Honeymoon In Leather
by Robert Yorkshire
(SNM-194)


CASE NUMBER ONE: Lillian D. 

"You probably what to know if what you read in the papers is true, if my 
mother came over one day and found me chained up in the cellar and if the 
marks on my body were for real ... and all the other gory details. Well, 
it's true alright, only there's a hell of a lot more, Doctor, that I didn't 
tell anybody. Like the night he took a whip to my legs, and the time he used 
a cigarette on my ankle, and, oh, yeah, what about how he attached a ... 
well, I better start from the beginning, way back from our honeymoon, cause, 
I even then Jim was a little odd, only I didn't notice it, at least not 
right away ... 

"We were married in the Church St. Mary, and a black limousine was waiting 
for us as we came running through that shower of rice, down the church 
steps. All of my girl friends from high school told me that I looked so 
pretty that they wanted to cry. Anyhow, we dashed into the car and climbed 
into the back seat. Jim had arranged for everything, even the chauffeur. I 
had no idea where I was going. Through the side window of the car I could 
see my friends waving goodbye from the church steps, all of them smiling and 
crying with joy for me. That was probably the last happy thing that ever 
happened to me. 

"Right from the beginning, even in that car on the way to the airport, Jim 
took to working his hands on my body in some crazed manner. It was nice at 
first, but it wasn't the way a normal man does such things. He rubbed 
between my legs with one hand, worked up under my wedding gown and got his 
fingers going against my bridal panties. He stroked up and down on what he 
knew was my cunt. I asked him if we shouldn't wait until we were alone, on 
account of the driver and all, and he said in my ear in a whisper that I 
shouldn't worry about anything. He worked his fingers close to my lips, even 
through the silk panties, and I began to worry that my new husband was crazy 
or something. After all, we had only just left the church, and we weren't 
even alone, but his hand was sliding up and down and making my loins hot and 
sweaty under my bridal gown. I knew that I must have looked like a barber 
shop pole in that white dress with my bright red blush, but there wasn't 
much of anything I could do about it. Jim just kept rubbing and fondling me 
in every way you can think of in order to keep me getting hot and 
stimulated. 

"Some of the time he rubbed on my thighs and some of the time he used his 
other hand to make me hot around the chest. He knew just about every way 
imaginable to get my titties up and hot, and the way he squeezed my 
mammaries, well, it was very, very exciting, even in that backseat. Before 
we arrived at the airport I was as hot and flushed as I could possibly be. 
When the chauffeur came around and opened up my side of the car, I was so 
disheveled and embarrassed that I didn't even want to get out of the car. My 
bridal gown was nearly shredded and my lips were smudged with my own makeup. 
I was blushing all over. Jim kept pushing me and making me get out and all. 
I didn't know what to do. I suddenly thought, just for an instant, that I 
had married a madman. I let this sexual psychopath lead me to the waiting 
Lear jet airplane. 

"Inside the plane, for just a moment or two, I thought things were going to 
be considerably nicer. After all, I was surrounded by plush carpeting and 
nice overstuffed airplane chairs. And for one thing, Jim and I were alone 
there. This time the 'chauffeur', the pilot, was up front in his own little 
room and couldn't see anything at all. 

"The plane took off with a big noise, but once we were up in the air the 
noise died down and I was alone, flying with my new husband to I did not 
know where. I asked him as the plane banked into what seemed some new 
direction where we were going. He just shook his head, undid his seat belt, 
and came over in front of me. He reached down to where my seat belt buckled 
and undid the latch. Then he slid his fingers down between my legs again, 
this time not hesitating to rip my wedding dress completely off my body. He 
took it away from my hips in one pull. I screamed, but there was no one 
there to answer my chilled and frightened screeches. After all, we must have 
been easily ten thousand feet up in the air and moving at about five hundred 
miles an hour. And my husband was attacking me, working his fingers up and 
down on my thighs and around my hips. 

"Well, he pulled me up out of the seat and tossed me like a sack of potatoes 
down on the aisle. I was all akimbo and off balance. I looked right and left 
and there was just nowhere to go, nothing to do. I looked up at Jim. He was 
pulling off his belt, undoing the buckle and getting his bridal suit off. I 
asked him if he didn't want to wait until we got to the hotel and he threw 
his head back and laughed. I'll never forget that laugh, Doctor, and the 
spooky way that I knew right then that I was in for some very strange sex. I 
understood then that my new husband had never intended really to do anything 
else except sexually assault me. I wondered if I was going to even live 
through that plane flight. 

"When Jim finished undressing he got down on his hands and knees. His joint 
was bobbing up and down and flopping left and right between his thighs, 
rubbing along his loins. He came crawling toward me, and I tried to get up 
and get my balance, but I couldn't. I think the jet was going through some 
sort of tumultuous weather. Anyhow, what I next felt might have been a metal 
claw, but I knew it was Jim's hand clasping hold of my ankle. I turned 
around and he flipped me onto my back. He said that he was going to fuck me 
on the floor of the airplane, that it was going to hurt a bit, but not 
nearly so much as the screw-job I would get when we landed on the ground. 
Then he started pulling off my bridal gown. He just tore it away from my 
body. I screamed and complained and all, but there wasn't anything I could 
do to make him stop attacking me that way. I wanted to get up and run, but I 
couldn't. There was no place to go. I wanted to hurt him, but I couldn't do 
that because I knew it meant he would hurt me back fivefolds over. I wanted 
to disappear and ... 

"He took to stroking my chest first. As soon as he had my clothes off that's 
what he went for. My titties were so vulnerable. I couldn't believe what he 
did to me. He left hickies everywhere because of his sucking and licking. I 
wouldn't have minded it if he hadn't marked me, but both of my breasts, all 
of that soft creamy flesh, was marked with red welts. He had sucked it all 
into hickies and black-and-blue bruises. My nipples, by the time he finished 
rubbing his lips and his tongue up and down on them, well, they were all 
sore and tired. They'd never been like that before, Doctor. Never. They were 
always little cherry buds that stuck right up like proud little soldiers. He 
licked them so much that they wilted. 

"He rubbed his face down along my tanned belly. I had gone out and spent 
hours on the beach just so that my honeymoon with Jim would be especially 
nice. Think of all the boys I had turned down just for him, just by saying, 
'No, I'm sorry, I'm getting married next week,' and I mean there were a lot 
of them who saw me in my two piece bathing suit, saw my nice long legs and 
big full chest and they came up to me and wanted to know about talking or a 
date and stuff, and I had just told them outright, 'No, I'm getting 
married.' Boy, did I ever feel dumb as I watched Jim licking and kissing my 
stomach and assaulting me in that airplane. 

"He got down between my legs and he did something nice for me. He started 
gnawing on my clitoris, licking it with his tongue and sucking it with his 
lips. He really knew how to do that, too. He got his tongue going fast, 
jetting up and down along my two open twat lips. (He was holding my legs 
spread with his two big hands.) He got that mouth muscle rubbing pretty hard 
in there, so much so that I couldn't help but get turned on, even though I 
didn't particularly like the way Jim was going about doing it to me. My clit 
ooze began to flowing, and my legs were all chilled and the inside of my 
twat was boiling. I wondered how I could possibly get hot for this man. He 
had just attacked me and he was treating me brutally, even though he was 
supposed to be my nice kind husband, and now I was getting hot because he 
was eating me out so nicely. Maybe, I figured just then, he had decided to 
be nice after all. Maybe, I hoped, I had been wrong about him, and now he 
was going to be nice to me always, and he had just been pre- tending to be 
nasty before. I was wondering if the way he was licking me out meant that he 
really did like me and that he felt bad about the way he had treated me 
earlier. I gave way to the liquid passion I was feeling between my labia and 
began to rock my crater back and forth in his face. 

"Jim smiled when I did that. He looked up at me and smiled. He saw the look 
of heated and feverish passion on my lips, I guess, and for some reason he 
thought it was worth a smile. Then he went back to digging inside my cunt 
tube with that long slippery tongue of his. He rubbed the wet mouth muscle 
sideways inside my hole. Jesus, I was getting so hot, despite myself, and 
wanting it more and more. I was beginning to crank my legs and my hips up 
and down against his face. I wanted to feel that long luscious dong-like 
tongue of his clanking inside my body. 'More,' I hollered at him. 'Give me 
more of that mouth organ.' 

"He licked and sucked as if he was interested in seeing that his new wife 
got some pleasure. I was beginning to trust him again, even though my 
titties were still black-and-blue, even though my tattered wedding dress, if 
I cared to look in that direction, was piled in a heap only inches from my 
head. Even though Jim had assaulted me and ravished my body, and even though 
he hadn't done anything kind for me since the minute I said those two little 
words, 'I do', now that he was eating out my pussy, rubbing his tongue up 
and down inside my wet slippery twat lips, now I was willing to forgive him. 
I couldn't believe myself. 

"There I was on the floor of that airplane, getting carried off to God only 
knows where, and my new husband was rubbing his nose in my hole and I was 
yelling at him, 'Oh, God, Jim, more! Please, I love it, more!" And yet 
somehow I knew that we were headed for disaster, that I was not going to be 
getting a great deal more pleasure from Jim, that this oral fuck in my cunt 
was some kind of preparation, some kind of warm up for a slightly more 
devilish kind of pleasure. I wondered as he continued to lick at my clitoris 
what he had in mind for me. 

"Soon I found out. But first Jim had me roll over. He did something to my 
butt that no man has ever done before, Doctor. I'm even a little afraid to 
tell you what it was, it's so nasty and all. But I want you to know 
everything so that you can make an evaluation. He turned me over on my belly 
and pushed his tongue down between my two creamy buttocks. He filled my 
asshole with his mouth muscle. Do you believe it? Yes, he went sliding it 
right on inside my anus. I couldn't understand how he could treat me so 
nasty and then turn me over and do something to my bunghole that felt so God 
damn good! It was amazing to feel that long slippery worm muscle of his 
going sliding down inside my ass. It was like a big long snake had attacked 
my insides, only instead of killing me with his fangs and his poison, he was 
making me hotter and lustier than ever. I loved it, loved the feel of that 
reaming mouth organ of his rubbing inside my bunghole. "But then I found out 
what it was in preparation for. Before I could even ask Jim why he was going 
up and down like that with his tongue, the next thing I felt was his cock. I 
didn't know at first what he had in his demented mind, but I should have 
been able to predict it easily enough. He took that big hearty cock muscle 
of his and placed it like sandwich meat between my slippery buttocks. He 
just laid it right down in there, and I could hear him chortling in a 
whisper in my ear, and he said: 'It's better than being whipped, isn't it, 
Lilly? Or would you rather I got out the leather?' 

"I didn't know what he meant, Doctor. I was so scared. I have met a lot if 
boys in my time, and none of them ever treated me that way, with their cock 
rubbing at my buns. I was frightened and didn't know what to do. I asked Jim 
what he meant by that comment about the leather, but he said that I was 
acting like a fool, that I really did know for real, what he meant, and that 
he was surprised that I hadn't brought it up instead of him. I tried to 
wiggle away from the pressure of his hog which was getting stiffer and 
harder between my two cheeks. It was impossible. He had me pretty tight. His 
cock laid like a wiener in my crotch there, and his hand was around my 
waist. His other hand was up around my titties where he was feeling me up. I 
didn't know that my new husband knew so much about sex and about that kind 
of sex in particular. 

"Pretty soon he was getting the head of that big meat of his into place in 
my asshole. I screamed at him that he was going to kill me that way, and he 
said softly back to me that he didn't give a damn if I lived through it or 
not. I was pretty damn scared then, Doctor. There I was on a jet going I 
didn't know where and this man, who was supposed to be my nice young 
husband, was attacking my asshole. I couldn't believe it. 

"But it was happening alright. My anus is the best witness of that. He took 
his mushroom head and speared me with it. My sphincter and my anus were just 
about bust open. He didn't stop when he hit my bowels, either. He just kept 
going. He held me by the nape of the neck when I screamed. His cock was 
tacking me down so hard that I thought I would start hemorrhaging. It was 
God-awful, Doctor. I had never been stroked that way, and I couldn't stand 
the pressure of it. 

"After that, when he had had his fill of my back cave, he yanked his rod out 
of there. I thought for sure that I was in luck. I should have known better. 
I thought everything was over. I thought that there wasn't going to be 
anymore of that torture and all. But little did I know. He rolled me over 
and told me that he wanted his cock cleaned. I did that. I licked it off 
because I thought that it was all over now, all done. He took to rubbing his 
penis up and down, back and forth on my face. I didn't know whether to lick 
or what. He was treating me like a dog. But when I stopped rubbing his 
muscle with my tongue he told me that I had better shape up or he would hit 
me. I didn't want to be hit, but I knew, even then, that I was going to 
suffer some more, because he wasn't done treating me badly. I knew that 
nothing I did for him would satisfy him completely. He was bound to mistreat 
me, just like some men are bound to be good lovers ... 

"He made me lick off that big mushroom cock head. 

He made me swallow down as much of it as possible. I licked off the head and 
rolled my mouth muscle up and down on the shaft. There were tears in my eyes 
as I blew my new demon husband, but he didn't care. He just wanted to get 
that hog of his as far down my throat as possible. And he did, too. He 
rubbed it all the way into my tonsils, against my uvula, and he wouldn't let 
me come up for air except when he wanted me to. I was becoming some sort of 
sexual slave and I had only been married for about two hours. 

"Jesus, Doctor, I thought that suck off would never end. I thought he would 
suffocate me that way. It was such a big red hot hog, and it was jamming off 
my wind-pipe. Some of the time I wasn't really licking. I was just trying to 
catch my breath. I held onto the shaft of that thing and kept rubbing the 
head in and out of my mouth. I figured that I could give him pleasure and 
keep him from giving me pain. That way I wouldn't be tortured quite so much 
as he had planned. If I could keep him satisfied with a blow-job until we 
landed, then maybe I could avoid whatever it was he had in his crazed mind 
to do with the leather ... 

"But it was no good. Before I had even finished getting his hog completely 
cleansed he whispered down to me that he was going to have to get the 
leather out. He told me to cooperate and everything would be alright. I said 
that I didn't want to be tied up and that I didn't want to be hurt. Before I 
could say anything else he slapped me across the face. He hauled back with 
his hand and smacked me so hard that I thought my jaw was broken. I went 
sliding across the cabin floor looking for my balance and something to hold 
onto. But there wasn't anything. Before I could even think again, about 
where I was and about what was happening to me, I felt something getting 
tight around my wrists. It was a leather throng, and it was cutting into my 
flesh above my hands. I felt my circulation buzzing, like needles, but I 
couldn't seem to get my bearings. I looked up for a moment and it was Jim, 
squatting behind me, tying my wrists behind my back, and I moaned at him, 
'Jim, Jim, please darling, won't you please ... ' He wouldn't listen to me. 
I felt something smash down on my face and when I came to again I was being 
walked across a private runway. 

"He had draped some sort of black cape over my shoulders, but underneath 
that I was nude. My wrists were tied behind my back and my ankles, which had 
also been tied behind my back-like a cow for branding-were feeling the 
relief of having been released. But I was being led, one arm in the hand of 
the pilot, one arm in Jim's hand, from the plane to I did not know where. I 
couldn't understand it. One minute I was getting married in my hometown to a 
young wealthy man I had known for almost a year, and the next, that same 
fellow was taking me on a devil's tour of some formerly unknown sexual 
world. It was the most frightening thing that ever happened to me, and I 
would have given just about anything to have avoided it. 

"Jim and I climbed into a jeep at the end of the runway. I had no clothes of 
my own, no personal belongings. A single handcuff was attached to my ankle 
and the other side of that pair of bracelets was clipped to the floor of the 
backseat of the jeep. Jim drove. 

"We went through some sort of strange jungle type country, a winding road 
and circuitous pathway, and finally, we arrived in front of what looked like 
a deserted mansion. A single black servant greeted us at the front door and 
took Jim's bag. He took me by the leather throng attached around my wrists 
and pushed and pulled me up and down stairs and a corridor which led to an 
empty room. He shoved me down inside onto my knees, on a hardwood floor, and 
there I stayed for I don't know how long. 

"Perhaps it was an hour, or maybe it was two days, but I lost track of 
myself and my hurt. I was numbed and unable to tell anything of where I was 
or how it had come to pass that I was getting such a terrible treatment from 
my new husband. I don't know when exactly, but I was half-asleep as the door 
to that cell opened. Someone, perhaps it was Jim, came into the room and 
took the black cape off my body. That left me nude and cold, tied at the 
wrists behind my back. A moment later that same person crouched in the dark, 
at my feet, and put a pair of handcuffs on my ankles. I started to scream 
but it was like a nightmare when one attempts to yell and you even think 
that you are screaming aloud but you are not. It was terribly frightening. 

"I felt my titties getting hot and stimulated. That was the second time 
when, in that little room, I woke up. Jim was bent over my body and he had 
his tongue sliding around on my breasts. I was getting hot from that. That's 
what woke me up. I started to ask something, to demand to know, most likely, 
what I was doing there, why I was getting such brutal treatment from him, my 
husband, of all people. But before I could even say two words, he smacked me 
across the face. The next thing I knew I was laced into some sort of wood 
device. 

"Doctor, I don't know how to describe it. It was some kind of wrack. It 
pulled my legs open and it spread my arms above my head. My chest was 
stretched by this thing, just as much as was my pussy. I couldn't figure out 
where I was. I was just coming to on this wooden device. I tried to lift my 
neck, to look around, but I couldn't. I was tied down, clasped and clamped 
down at my neck, as well as at my feet and my ankles. I wondered if I was in 
the same place as before, the deserted mansion, or if I had been transported 
in an unconscious state to some other place. In either case, I was sure I 
was going to die. I was sure a dozen or more men were going to come into 
that room, stuff my captured beaver, and then slit my throat. 

"In one sense, Doctor, I was right. A single man,, behaving as though he 
were like a dozen, came into that room and he attacked me. It was Jim. I 
could see him when he stood close to my face with his naked boner laying 
along his leg. He looked down at me and asked if I enjoyed being framed on 
my honeymoon. He called that wood stretcher device a frame. I told him I 
didn't like it at all. He just laughed and came around the front where he 
mounted me. 

"I could feel his boner sliding in and out of my cunt. I was made to be hot 
by that thing even though I had no choice in it. I was tied down, you see, 
to the stretching device and made so captive that I couldn't possibly move 
to respond to any of the sex being given me. My husband's thick mushroom hog 
was the only part of his body which touched me. I don't know how he did it, 
but that was the only place where contact was made. I could neither see his 
body nor feel it, as I said, except where his prick slid in and out of my 
twat. 

"The first time was a turn on, I have to admit. Isn't it every girl's 
fantasy to be tied down, roped in place with leather and stretched and then 
attacked until she's made to have an orgasm? Well, that's what it was for me 
the first time that Jim did that to me. He stuffed me long and hard, that 
thick meat going into me like a spear. He branded the inside of my wet pussy 
hole, and there's no way in the world that I would deny that I was having a 
good time-the first round, that is. 

"But he didn't stop there. He flicked some switch and over I went, like a 
big stiff butterfly, and now, instead of my twat being vulnerable, it was my 
asshole. The wood pieces holding my legs, they spread a bit more. A 
mechanical clasp came down from either side and spread around each of my two 
buttocks. Then it pulled my feathery cheeks back and open, kept my ass hole 
crotch open while Jim managed to get yet another boner with which to 
penetrate my back tube. He stepped forward and jabbed me with it, stuffed me 
harder than ever. I could feel that big mushroom tip pioneering out all 
sorts of new anal territory. It was really shitty of him to do that without 
letting me be at all free to enjoy it in any way. And when he was done, when 
he had screwed up the inside of my asshole and filled it full of his hot 
jism, then he stroked out and laughed a bit more. Finally, the machine let 
my ass cheeks go flopping, released its hold on my buns, and I was twisted 
over again, turned upright. 

"This time Jim waited a while, but not so long that I was feeling good 
again. He came into my pie with another big hard-on. I could feel that 
rubbery pipe getting hotter faster than ever. He was going to shoot off, I 
knew, even without stroking for more than a minute. He was so hot, probably 
just from seeing me tied up that way, that he was getting erections without 
even trying. I could feel his huge ridged boner rubbing inside my hole, 
rubbing and jabbing and getting ready to shoot off. I screamed at him but 
all I got back was a chortle and a laugh. Then, of course, he popped off, 
like a bicentennial fire cracker, and flooded my insides with hot jism. I 
wondered when it would all stop. 

"A moment later I heard some electric buzzing. It was a steady whirring 
sound and I didn't know what could possibly make such a noise. As you must 
know just from looking at me, Doctor, I'm only eighteen years old, and I 
haven't had much experience in the sexual world. Except of course for what 
Jim was so happy to demonstrate on my body in those few days during which I 
was married to him. Anyhow, I didn't know what the thing was called that he 
was stuffing into my twat. It was electric, I knew, and it was vibrating in 
a way that a real cock could not. Since then I have been told that I was 
fucked with an electric or battery-operated dildo. 

"I don't have to tell you how good it felt. It was terrific. Even though I 
was tied to that device I couldn't help but enjoy that steady rubbing 
between my twat's labia. But soon it became too much. I yelled at Jim to 
stop, that he was killing me with that clit rubber of his. But he wouldn't 
stop. He just kept working that thing up and down next to my inside rudder. 
It was going to destroy me or something. I knew it was going to wipe me out. 
I started-yelling at the top of my lungs. I tried to lift my head to look 
down there, but I couldn't. I was strapped in just as tight as at the 
beginning. I was about to pass out, when as suddenly as it had begun, the 
twirling in my cunt stopped. I thanked the Lord for the relief I had in that 
moment. My clit, I was sure, was bleeding. 

"Then, all of a sudden, as the wrack began to twist me over so that my fanny 
was up, I knew why Jim had stopped using the dildo in my twat. He was going 
to use it in my asshole. Sure enough, once the machine had turned me over, 
the clasps came down again and separated my buns. They held my two cheeks 
wide open and Jim attacked my bunghole with that rubber-tipped artificial 
joint. He jammed it into my anus and didn't take it out until I passed out. 
I don't even know if he took it out after that. I just fainted and when I 
came to I was on my back again, juice flowing and oozing from my two holes. 
I was still attached to the wrack. 

"I took a deep breath and wondered if I was really still alive. Then the 
door to that room opened-I could hear it-and I heard footsteps, one set 
only. I had a hunch it was Jim but whoever it was didn't show his or her 
face. I felt something cold and wet at my thigh, like cotton and water, and 
it was rubbing on my skin. Then I felt a mild pinch, and a needle prick. 
Someone, I figured, even though I couldn't see them, was giving me an 
injection. The next thing I knew, Doctor, I was drifting off into some other 
land. It was the best I had felt since the day I got married. 

"Well, when I came to the next time I was in the house in the suburbs. It 
was the house in - City Jim had bought for me, the same one that we had 
looked at before the wedding. I wondered how and why he had brought me back 
to this place instead of killing me. I could see out the bedroom window the 
house next door, that's how I knew it was the same one, and I was able to 
tell by the bedroom wallpaper that it was the same interior. But I still 
didn't understand why he had been so foolish as to bring me back to that 
place when he must have known that I was going to use my every effort to 
escape him. Then, as I started to get up from the bed I was in, I realized 
why it didn't matter where I was. My feet were stretched and handcuffed to 
the foot of the bed and my wrists were similarly attached to the head 
bedboard. Jim was taking no chances at all-you see I was still a prisoner, a 
slave, a captive in my own home! 

"It must have been the blood-curdling scream which I let out that brought 
Jim running. He burst open the door and on his face was that lecherous 
expression and hateful look which I shall never forget. He came over to the 
bed and pulled back the sheets. He let his hand go sliding up and down on my 
body. Softly, he fondled my breast, but then he twisted the nipple and 
nearly caused it to bleed. He rubbed a finger down between my twat lips and 
poked at my clitoris. Again, his move was calculated to excite me, but at 
the end he gave way to his sickly impulse to maim. He crammed more than 
three fingers into my twat and pressed my clitoris like it was a piece of 
dead fish. Oh, God, Doctor, I have never known such pain! Finally, he 
undressed and climbed onto my sweating body. He pushed his massive poker 
into my vulnerable twat hole. He slid his hands under my butt at the same 
time and jabbed a long middle digit up into my arse. I couldn't stand it... 
but of course I had no choice ... 

"A few days later, after several attacks on my flesh of the sort I've 
already described, he decided to move me. He took me downstairs into the 
cellar and chained me to a set of pipes, one for hot water, one for cold. 
When someone used the hot water upstairs I had to pull away from the hot 
pipe as much as possible in order to prevent my back from being scalded. 
Whenever the door to the cellar opened, I shuddered with fear. It was always 
Jim with some new sexual extravaganza to try out on my body, on my poor 
disheveled flesh. 

"He brought whips, chains, dildos, leather strings; billy clubs were not 
beyond him; one time he brought a high-heeled shoe and put it on his hand 
and walked with it up and down my thigh. Nothing was for Jim too tacky. 

"Finally, one afternoon when I was on the brink of dying, the cellar door 
opened and it was my mother. I screamed at her to run away, to go hide and 
to save herself, but she came down the stairs telling me to be quiet, that 
she had an idea that something like this had been going on, and she set me 
free from those chains. I grabbed a robe upstairs and went with my mother to 
the police station. That was yesterday afternoon. They still haven't caught 
Jim. I certainly hope they do. I think he might hurt someone someday. Maybe 
he can be helped. I don't know, Doctor. I just don't know. 

CASE NUMBER TWO: Cindy S. 

"Doctor, I have such a nice body. I really do. I looked in the mirror before 
I came here today. I looked because I wanted to be sure that I wasn't 
fooling myself. You know what I saw? I saw these twq big tits of mine, and I 
caw how nice and smooth and browned my legs are. I saw that my waist is as 
trim as last year when I got married, and I even looked at my fanny. I took 
a little hand mirror and held it back there so I could see myself, and it 
was something. My little hole was all nice and brown, and just as tight as 
ever. And then I put down that mirror and cried. I cried my eyes out very 
nearly, Doctor... 

"Do you know why I looked in that mirror? Because I wanted to see if there 
was something about me, about my body, my breasts, my nipples, my legs or my 
cunt or my ass, something about me, that warranted the awful treatment my 
husband has been giving me. That's why I looked. I wanted to know if there 
was something about me that I hadn't been paying attention to. And just to 
be sure, you know what I did? I fingered my little clit just to make sure 
that the oily ooze still came out just as fast as ever and that it smelled 
just as good, too. And it did. So I don't know why my husband treats me so 
rotten the way he does. I just don't know. 

"The other night he took me out of bed-you hear me? We had got into bed to 
sleep already-he took me out of bed and said that I should be ashamed of 
myself for leaving the kitchen a mess. He took me into the kitchen, and he 
was holding me really tight around the wrist and he turned on all the 
fucking lights in the house, and there we was, going naked all the way to 
the kitchen and he flicked on the light in there and pointed at one dish, 
that was not clean, and it was sitting there in the sink. He says, 'See 
that, Cindy?' and I said, 'Yes, I see that, and started to go back to bed. 
But he wouldn't let me go, and he squeezed my wrist really hard. I don't 
know why, but I looked down between his legs and I saw that his meat was 
getting stiff. I was wondering what he was thinking about while he was 
squeezing my wrist, but I didn't have a chance to think much more about that 
because he said, 'Now, you wash that dish and then I'll take care of you the 
other way,' and he had a look in his eye like he really meant it. I didn't 
know what to do, so I washed that one dish in the sink. He watched me do it. 

"Then he took me by the wrist again and turned off the lights on our way 
back to the bedroom. When I started to climb into the bed he said, 'Oh, no, 
little Cindy, not without your punishment. You left a dish undone, you have 
to get punished.' I told him that I thought he was taking himself a little 
too seriously, and he said 'We'll see who takes what seriously after you 
have been punished.' And he took a good grab of both of my wrists and pulled 
me up off the bed, which I had climbed into, and out of there and onto the 
floor. And then he sat on the side of the bed and pulled me up over his 
knees. He had me stretched out like that, over his thighs, and he was 
yelling at me that I should never leave a dish undone. He started spanking 
my buttocks whith his open hand. I couldn't believe it. I hadn't been 
spanked since I was about five years old. It stung, too, and I was starting 
to get tears in my eyes, and not from laughing, either. I yelled at him to 
stop but he just kept smacking my buns. I felt my ass cheeks getting so 
fucking hot. It was killing me, and I knew if he kept it up he would leave a 
bad bruise there. I bit him in the chin and he screamed out. I got up and 
was about to start laughing at him, but before I could he smacked me in the 
jaw with a closed fist. He beat me pretty fucking hard, Doctor. I was out 
cold on the floor. 

"When I came to, he told me that since I had gone and acted like an asshole, 
he was going to fuck me up the asshole, and that it would teach me a lesson. 
I told him that if he could get it up there, he was welcome to it. I didn't 
think he was serious. But he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me up on the 
bed. He stretched me out and slid a handful of grease along my cheeks. 
Before I knew it he had made the whole back canal as slippery and as greasy 
as could be. He rubbed that juice, wherever he got it from, up and down 
between my buns. I yelled at him, tried to scold him back, but it was not 
doing any good at all. He seemed very determined to get .his meat up inside 
my ass flesh. I didn't give way, but there wasn't much I could do. 

"Next thing I knew he had his cock sliding into the hole in my buns. He was 
pushing that big spongy head of meat into my sphincter tube. He rode it all 
the way down inside and stuffed me full of that bony flesh. I wanted to cry 
out, to scream and to tell him that I thought he was some sort of spider, 
some terrible scorpion the way he was stinging me right then, but I didn't 
dare because I thought for sure that he would get angrier than he already 
was. He started pounding that muscle of his into me so hard-even without me 
complaining-that I thought for sure he was trying to murder me, not just my 
asshole. The entire wedge of flesh stick was up inside my anus. I couldn't 
believe he was able to fit that thing in there like that. 

"And as for his hands, he had one on my clit and the other on my nipples. He 
was squeezing both of those tender spots about as quick as he could, making 
me hotter and juicier than I wanted to be at all. I didn't believe he was 
fucking me that way after spanking me the way he did. He didn't give a damn 
about me being his wife just then. All he was interested in was in getting 
his cock satisfied. And about a minute later that was happening. His joint 
was throbbing off inside my bowels, making a well of jism out of my 
bunghole. It hurt a great deal, too. 

"When he was done yanking that joint out of my rear end, he told me that if 
I ever didn't do my job right again, he would give me the same kind of 
spanking. He said that if I ever left a dish undone or some of his underwear 
unfolded, that then he would consider that cause enough to give me a beating 
that I would never forget. I didn't want that to happen, and I was very 
frightened of him. He told me that if I ever told anyone that I had been 
mistreated, he would make sure that I lived to regret my words. With that he 
rolled over and went to sleep. I couldn't believe what was happening to me, 
how severe he was being. 

"There were other times before that one when my husband had beat me. One 
time I had called the market for a delivery boy to bring over some things 
that I needed for cooking that night's dinner. Well, it was about five 
o'clock when the delivery boy arrived. He couldn't have been more than about 
sixteen, and with his freckles and his nice young biceps and all, well, I 
just couldn't seem to keep my hands off that lad. I went sliding my fingers 
up and down his arms and pressing my body against his, and before we knew 
it, me and this boy, Johnny, we ended up in bed. He was flinging his meat in 
and out of my hole, sending the springs to bouncing and squeaking like they 
never did before, and I was getting one wail of a good fucking, the kind of 
a nice punch that I knew I would be able to remember. His hog was going in 
and out of my juicing hole like there was no tomorrow. Maybe he was a 
virgin, but I doubt it. He might have been young, but he knew how to fuck a 
housewife's brains out. And that's what he did. 

"Or that's what he would have done if my husband hadn't come home and caught 
us going at it like that. He nearly socked the kid, but I told him that it 
was all my doing, that I had brought the kid on, rubbed his joint and all, 
seduced him and everything, and while I was saying that, and while my 
husband was getting worked up over it, Johnny high-tailed it out of there. 
By the time ol' hubby realized what was happening, well, there was only one 
person left to smack around, I guess. 

"He slipped his belt off and came at me with it. I told him that there 
surely just must be some other way of satisfying his being angry at me. I 
told him I would suck him off and eat his balls and give him an asshole 
reaming. I told him that I would be happy to stuff him -with my tongue and 
suck on his toes. Anything, Doctor-I was willing to do anything at all to 
avoid being hit by that belt of his. 

"But I think he wanted to beat me more than he wanted to love me. Or maybe 
that was his way of getting to show that he didn't like me anymore, or that 
he was worried about work and all. But whatever it is, he kept coming at me. 
I tripped over a chair and landed on the floor, in a corner of the room. It 
was very, humiliating. I didn't know what he was going to do. He was 
standing up there towering over me, waving that belt back and forth. Then he 
kicked me with his foot. He kicked me in the thigh. He really did it hard, 
too, so that the next day there was a purple mark there on my leg. 

"Then he pulled me up while I was moaning and all, and he tossed me down on 
the bed. I ended up spread-eagle with my hands spread out and my legs wide, 
and then I felt it. At first I wasn't sure what it was. It was like 
something had snapped inside my spine, like something had gone wild in my 
nervous system, but then, as the sting spread out across my cheeks, I knew 
that it was that whip-action of his leather belt as he crossed my ass with 
it. He'd hit me so severely hard with that brown leather belt of his that I 
hadn't, for just one moment, known exactly what it was. I was crazy to have 
stuck around after that. But before I could even think again that belt came 
down smacking me across the backs of the legs. He was treating me like a 
dog, like a mutt that had pissed or shit in the wrong place. He was beating 
me with his leather belt as if I was some sort of mongrel. 

"The next thing I knew was that he had that belt tied up around my ankles. I 
told him that he had gone far enough, that if he really hated me that much 
for fucking with one delivery boy that I would leave the house and he'd 
never have to look at me again. But he didn't listen to me. He just kept 
wrapping and tying my ankles with that strap of leather. He paid no mind at 
all to my beating on his head with my fists as I tried to get away from him. 

"Pretty soon he had me laced at the ankles. I stopped pounding on his head 
and his chest and started crying. That belt around my feet was killing me. I 
asked him to please let me go, and I sobbed at him. He didn't listen at all. 
He just chucked me over onto my belly. I looked over my shoulder, though, 
and he was getting undressed. He was looking at me from time to time and he 
was saying, 'So you want to make it with a delivery boy, every now and then, 
eh? So you like to get a nice young meat up your twat, is that it? You like 
to fuck with just about anyone, eh? Well, we'll see about that. We'll just 
see about that. ...' 

"I told him that I didn't know why I liked doing it with the delivery boy, 
but that surely I liked him better. After all, he was my husband. I tried to 
convince him that I wouldn't ever again fool around on him, but he didn't 
believe me. I heard a drawer open and then next thing I knew he was rubbing 
that juice up and down between my buns. He was getting me ready for a 
cornhole. Jesus, Doctor, I didn't want to have to suffer that. He took that 
grease and spread it around on my cheeks, worked it into my asshole and 
spread it along the sides of my buns, too. He got it going everywhere. Then 
he took to rubbing it on his hog. He greased up his meaty prong and his 
balls and his legs. 

"I didn't want to look any more. I was going to have to endure that big 
hairy wanger of his. I didn't want it. I wanted not to be married just then. 
I wanted to be out flying a kite with my father or something, to be a little 
girl again. 

"Then, all of a sudden, I felt that huge sword go plunging into my butt. Oh, 
God, Doctor, it was like getting knifed in the ass. It went in so stiff and 
didn't let me rest at all. I couldn't move. I tried to but I couldn't. I 
held onto the mattress while that monster phallus went pouncing into my 
little rubbery hole, filling me up in some way that I knew wasn't right. He 
jammed me so hard that tears came to my eyes. I couldn't believe the way he 
was fucking my bunghole with that big fuck rod. He wouldn't let me up, 
either, until he had shot off his jism load. 

"When he had yanked that spike out of my rear tube and when he had caught 
his breath, he turned to me and started yelling and calling me all sorts of 
names. He said I was probably the worst little whore he had ever seen, that 
no matter who I thought I was I was really just a little bitch trying and 
pretending to be something I wasn't, and that no matter how much I thought I 
was going to be getting away with, I would always be a cunt, and no matter 
what I did to make up for the foul way I treated myself and him, abusing our 
marriage that way, that there was nothing I could do to put things right 
again. Then, when I told him that in that case I would be leaving him, he 
slapped me across the face so hard that I can still feel the sting. It was 
not a light tap on the face. It sent me reeling backwards onto the bed where 
I cried my heart out. 

"You'd think that I'd have got the message, that I'd have left and called 
that marriage over. But you know what I did? No sooner did he come putting 
his hand on my shoulder and pulling me around and looking at him, then I 
apologized and kissed him. I don't know what got into me, but he'd beaten me 
so bad that I couldn't resist him anymore. He pressed his lips against my 
mouth and I went floating in his arms. 

"I don't know why I did it. A minute later I was sucking him off, licking 
that long wet flesh rod. I didn't just give him a little taste of my mouth 
either. I gave him a good scrubbing, one that he'd remember. Maybe he'd even 
think that beating me went with a good blow-job. And I don't even know if 
maybe that wasn't what I wanted him to think. You know what I mean? I think 
maybe in some ways I wanted him to beat me again, only different. I don't 
know, Doctor. Maybe I'm sick, too.. . 

"But one thing I'll never forget is the time he beat me and my girlfriend. 
It was Jane's day off and she came over to visit me. She was just hanging 
around and we got to talking about sex. It was only natural. You know how it 
is when two women get together. 

"Well, Jane's not built like me. Where I'm big and chesty she's slender and 
slight. And where I have ample thighs and smooth skin on my loins, she's got 
skin and bones. She's just a skinny broad, and there are no two ways about 
it. That doesn't mean she's not pretty-not by a long shot. In fact, to tell 
you the truth, there's a lot of times I wish I were Jane and she were me. 

"But that's not how it was that day. On that day she was telling me how bad 
she felt that she didn't have big titties like -me. And I was telling her 
how wrong she was to feel that way. It just wasn't right. She shouldn't have 
been putting herself down that way. 

"Well, one thing led to another, and I ended up giving her a little pat on 
the back, a little rub on the shoulder. Maybe she was crying or something-I 
don't know-but she felt pretty bad. I didn't want her getting all depressed 
and everything, crying like that, so I didn't think anything of touching her 
that way. Well, the next thing I knew-I don't know how it happened- we were 
kissing each other: not just on the cheek, either. This was heavy, 
passionate kissing. On the mouth, in the mouth, I should say, and it was the 
kind of kissing that was getting me really turned on. 

"I could feel Jane's tongue going in and out of my face. It tasted just 
delicious. I didn't know what to do, to stop, to go on, to keep feeling her 
up, what... I just did what seemed to be almost natural and rubbed her 
chest, like she was doing to me, until we were both so damn hot that the 
only thing left to do was undress. I got my pants off and Jane got her skirt 
off. I don't-know how we managed with the rest of our clothes, but we left a 
trail going across the livingroom and down the hallway and into the bedroom. 
And that's where I did it with her, up on top of my marriage bed, with my 
legs spread out and my pussy drooling clit juice and that skinny baby girl 
sucking me so hard that I thought I was going to go up inside her mouth and 
down into her belly and never come out again. It was super! I loved the feel 
of her tongue on my clit-that was especially nice! 

"Pretty soon she got my legs to shivering and my butt feeling like it was 
hot as burning coals. I just needed something more from her. So I reached up 
on my chest where her hand was and I put it back behind me, between my 
cheeks. I could feel her finger. It was looking for the right angle. I 
showed her to the hole. In it went, all the way up inside and gouging out my 
bowels until it started feeling like an electric cattle prodder, shoving me 
around in every direction at once. I couldn't help but spread my legs out 
and get back on my spine so that Jane could get her tongue and her finger 
further into my two pelvis orifices. It was delicious. 

"I was huffing and puffing, gasping and sighing, and telling her that I 
needed her just as much as I needed my husband. I told her that I loved her 
more than I could love anyone, that the feel of her tongue slopping around 
between my lips was heaven itself. 

"Jane pulled her finger out of my anus, She turned around and spread her 
legs over my face. She had one loin on either side of my face. She gave me 
her twat. I could get my tongue in there if I lifted my head, so I gathered 
a pillow up under the nape of my neck and in luxurious comfort went to work 
at eating out her pussy. She was doing the same for me between my excited 
legs. We were doing the feminine 69, and it was perfect! 

"Well, you just know what had to happen. My husband came home early from 
work and caught us going at it like that. No matter how much I begged him to 
let Jane go home, to let her get out of the house and all, he wouldn't let 
her loose. He insisted that she was as much a part of the sinning as I was, 
that he had to whip her just as much as he had to whip me. Jane even tried 
telling him that she was the one responsible entirely, that she was worried 
about her titties being to small and that that was what had caused the whole 
thing and that for her it would be better if my husband only beat Jane. But 
he didn't buy that. He wouldn't let her get past him at the door when she 
tried. 

"First he tied up Jane. I tried to keep him from doing it, but he's so much 
stronger than I am that I couldn't do a thing about it. He got her into a 
pretty good hold with his tie. He wrapped that around her ankles. Then he 
used his belt to get her hands. He tied her hands behind her back. That left 
her completely vulnerable to whatever he wanted to do to her. Every now and 
then, between straping me up, he slapped Jane, just as if it were an extra 
little bit of fun or something. He tied me with two belts which he got from 
the closet. He tied my hands behind my back, and then he tied my ankles up. 
Finally, he attached my hands and my ankles together. He really had me like 
a cow ready for branding. It was too much to believe. 

"He rolled us both down on the bed, and then he got naked himself. There we 
were, the two of us women and that one man, my husband, all nude, him the 
only one free to move as he pleased. Well, the first thing he did was come 
over to Jane and lean down real close to her face and smile at her and say: 
'You like to give me a little suck Jane? Just a little? Just to show your 
friend's hubby how much you like her? Eh?' She spit in his face. She spit in 
his face. But Jane, she didn't know how bad a mistake that was. The next 
instant, my hubby slapped her so hard that the bed shook. I could hear her 
wince and the tears started to flowing. Oh, God, it was awful. 

"Next minute, though, he's got his rod up against her face and she's getting 
it into place with her lips. He helped her by stuffing himself forward, 
leaning into her and giving her all of that flesh rod at once. He got that 
whole thing into her mouth and she sucked it like a good girl, as he would 
have said. He reached down to her cheeks and held her face by the side. He 
rubbed her mouth up and down on his boner, working it like she had a twat in 
her mouth. He gave himself all the pleasure he could get out of Jane's face. 
Then he pulled her face away from his boner and pushed her down on her back. 

"He laughed to himself when he saw her trying to lick up some of her own 
saliva, and he climbed down between her legs with his mouth. Tm going to 
give you a little sucking that you like so much, Jane. Eh?' And he went to 
laughing like a hyena in her twat with his tongue slopping and rubbing up 
and down against her clitoris. He worked really hard to make that little 
pink flesh knob of Jane's get stiff again. He ate her out for about five 
minutes. Then he worked a finger around behind her butt and stuffed it up. 
She didn't have any place she could go. He had a good tight hold on her hips 
so that when he jammed that finger in she could only scream. She'd have bit 
him if she could, but he didn't give her enough room to move in. 

"Finally, he yanked his finger out of her asshole and he came over to me. 
'My wife needs special attention,' he said, and he shoved that same finger 
into my mouth. I couldn't move at all. I didn't know what to do. He shoved 
that finger down between my mouth lips and made me suck on it. He forced me 
to eat off that digit. Then he stuck it down between my twat lips, shoved it 
into my pie and worked it up and down. He got my clit going that way. Even 
though I was tied up, I had to admit that his cunt working make me feel 
good. I wanted to get free though, and he wouldn't let me. 

"I asked him, finally, if he would let us loose, if he didn't think that 
maybe he had caused us enough pain. He said no, that he would tell us when 
he thought it was time for him to let us go, and that until then I should 
lay there and be quiet. He slapped me to make me believe he meant business. 

"I saw that his joint was awfully fat and round. It was bigger than most of 
the times when we went fucking in bed. I figured that my marriage had been a 
failure because I now knew that the real thing that turned on my husband was 
fucking and beating at the same time. He liked to beat women and then fuck 
them, or vice versa, and that meant that we wouldn't be able to live 
together anymore, that we would have to get a divorce. 

'Then, all of a sudden, he surprised me. He brought out this whip. I had 
never seen it before. He showed it to us as though it were a flower. He drew 
it across our faces, making us smell it and rubbed it down between our legs. 
He took the thick rubber handle and used that black-jack thing like a dildo 
between our legs. He went rubbing and sliding up and down on my pussy with 
that thing, making me get hotter and lustier than a hoot owl in springtime. 
He jacked me off pretty good with the handle of that thing, and then he slid 
it down deep inside, pushing it all the way back to the inside back wall of 
my canal. Jesus, I nearly jumped off the bed with the ecstasy he was giving 
me with that thing, only my hands were tied and my legs were strapped and 
there wasn't any way for me to move. He kept stroking with that thing, 
working it in and out of my hole. 

"He did the same thing with Jane after he finished fingering me with it. He 
pushed and pulled the handle up and down inside my hole. I couldn't resist 
whispering to Jane and asking her 'How's it feel?' She nodded her head 
between screams at my husband, telling him to get his grubbing whip away 
from her body, telling me that she secretly enjoyed it. 

"When he had finished stroking that thing in and out of her body, he told 
Jane to get ready for a little fuck action. He put the whip aside and looked 
at me: 'You, fucking harlot, watch me and see how it feels!' That's all he 
said, and he pushed Jane down flat on her back and slammed his meat into her 
tight twat. He filled her up with that stick of flesh, jammed it all the way 
into her tunnel and bored her through. She wailed in ecstasy and pain, 
because it no doubt felt good, better even than the whip handle, but it also 
hurt because her feet were still tied together and he had to pull her twat 
lips open to get in there. He ignored her wailing, however, and filled her 
up as much as possible. 

"Pretty soon I could see the bulging muscle sliding up and down like a flesh 
piston. There was lubricating clit juice just about everywhere. It made my 
husband's meaty rod shine and shimmer as he went sailing up and down, in and 
out, of Jane's healthy hole. It was really something, Doctor, to see that 
massive weapon stinging her like that, drilling her and filling her up. I 
supposed that when he fucked me it was much the same way. 

"Just before he was about to squirt in Jane's twat, he pulled out and undid 
her bonds. He told her to go home. She said that she wanted to stay and make 
sure that I didn't get hurt. But my husband smashed her across the face for 
saying that and she went careening backwards into the hallway. He closed the 
bedroom door and propped a chair against the handle so that Jane couldn't 
get back in if she tried. 

"He came at me with that big wet hard-on of his dripping and drooling Jane's 
fresh clit juice. 'So you like to fuck around, eh?' he asked me, waving his 
wand like a steel spike. 'So you want to have more fucking than I give you, 
eh?' he said with a sadistic smile. He climbed up on the bed and released my 
feet. He spread them out, though, so that he could refasten them to the foot 
of the bed. He tied me outwards, my feet spread, by the ankles. I was 
spread-eagle on the bed, my cunt open, my titties wobbling, my heart beating 
a mile a minute. 

"I begged him not to be vicious, not to be mean to me. But he wouldn't 
listen. He picked up the whip that he had previously shown me for the first 
time, and he drew the snake-like weapon portion of the thing across my 
belly. He made it move like a slender cobra and when he had all of that 
thing gathered up in his hand he carried it over to one side of the bedroom 
and lifted it like a cowboy's lasso. He let it fly through the air and crack 
over my right breast. I could feel the tailwind as the deadly tip snapped 
back and away from my body. If he touched me with that thing it would sear 
my flesh in a burn. I begged him not to do it again. 

"But he didn't listen to me. He picked up the whip and I heard the sharp 
crack, this time above my left thigh. I was so frightened that I didn't want 
to have my eyes open. I didn't want to see that terrifying thing coming at 
me. Suddenly, I was almost sure of it, I was in for a moment of relief. I 
heard the whip clunk to the floor alongside the bed. 

"But I also felt the bed rocking. I opened my eyes and saw my husband 
climbing up between my legs. 'Oh, God, no,' I said, for it was then that I 
saw he was going to fuck me, which wouldn't have been so bad, but he had 
attached to his prong a propeller like thing, a gnarled piece of plastic 
which I was sure would chew up my insides. I don't remember what happened. I 
was in the hospital and they brought me here to see you, Doctor. Of course, 
that time I refused. Everything was o.k. a few days later and I saw no need 
to complicate my life with a psychiatrist. 

"You're wondering then why I'm here today? Well, last night..." 

CASE NUMBER THREE: Ellen F. 

"Thank God, Doctor, that my little boy and I got out alive. It was that 
close. 

"Don't get me wrong. There were plenty of times that I spent with Ed when it 
couldn't have been nicer. To feel his meat rubbing between my nice young 
twat lips, the way he did it when we first met and married and all, well, 
there just wasn't a nicer feel in the world. I used to look down between our 
two bodies and I could see his joint. It would be rubbing there, rubbing and 
sliding and pushing against my clitoris. That's what I liked! It was super 
that way! That beating stuff, that stuff with the whips and the chains and 
the tying me up, well, that came later and I didn't like it. No sir. Not a 
whole lot, anyhow. 

"But I'll never forget the first time he crammed that pillar of flesh of his 
all the way up my bunghole. Talk about pain? And ache? My God! What a thing 
that was! And I could feel it jerking in there, too. It wasn't like he just 
stabbed you one time and that was it. No sir. He had to not only get it in 
there, but then he had to get it in there deep, all the way down inside my 
bowels. I'll never forget the feel of that mushroom head, the way it touched 
down the first time. How do you do, it said to the inside of my body! Wow! 

"You know, though, that once it was in there it wasn't so bad. I did a 
little rocking and a little rolling, and, well, it wasn't so bad. Once I got 
to jerking around a bit it wasn't so bad at all. I kind of liked it. Ed, he 
used to take me round the waist. He'd put one hand there, stuff a finger or 
two into my hole, and then he'd go to work on my titties with the other 
hand. He had good timing, too. Knew just when to rock me, just when to roll 
it. It was really quite something, and when he came!?! Well, yes mam, it was 
a blast from the up-above, the kind of a shoot-out that they must have had 
down there at the o.k. corral. I mean my insides were so shot up with juices 
and jisms that I'm glad I lived to tell about it. He really knew how to 
flood it. 

"One time I gave him that kind of header, too. I know . it was good. I could 
feel him throbbing even before he went and came. I licked that rod of his, 
rubbed that spongy tip, used my tongue for everything. Even went sliding up 
and down the tube. Kissed his balls some, just to be sure, and then, like 
magi-cubes, boom, he exploded all over my mouth and my face, and he even got 
me with one shot of that squirting thing in the eyeball. It was too fucking 
much to believe. I loved it. Loved every squirt of that stuff. Especially 
when it went dripping down my cheeks and all. Mmmmm, good! 

"But what I didn't like was the pain shit. He got into that later on. He 
started doing stuff like getting my hands spread out above my head. He'd 
hold my wrists out above my head. He'd push really hard and expect me to 
just lay there. Of course, he had his cock in my cunt so that made for a 
kind of a contrast. My pussy was burning with joy, but my wrists were just 
plain burning up. He was twisting them so hard that even after that first 
time there was a mark from the way it burned. 

"He fucked me good that day, though, and filled me up with enough cum to 
make ten babies, let alone the one he did. All the time I was pregnant you'd 
think that he'd be sure to take care of me, sure to make me feel nice and 
comfortable and all sorts of easy-going and all, but no, all he did was make 
me feel like a special sort of wife-slave. He said it was my own stupid 
fault for getting pregnant in the first place, and that it was my own stupid 
fault for going ahead and having the baby. I told him that he was the dumb 
one for sticking it in my hole when he didn't have any idea what he was 
doing. He just laughed at that. I wasn't that day so pregnant that you could 
tell and he went and shoved me down on the bed and jabbed that meat of his 
down inside my pussy. He rocked and rolled me up and down on that bed, but 
he was also pinching my ass cheeks and making me blush with ache down there 
while he was making me blush with pleasure up above. I thought for sure that 
the confusion was going to give me heart-failure. It was a rather miserable 
fucking. 

"Another time, after the boy had been born, Ed took to walloping on me. He 
said that I had let my body go- which was not true-I was in even better 
shape than before I bore that kid, and he was telling me all sorts of snotty 
things. I finally slapped him across the face. You should have had a camera, 
Doctor, to see the look of rage and horror and hurt on that man's face. For 
one instant there I even thought he might be human. But then he got so 
painfully angry that he couldn't control himself. He pulled my clothes right 
off my body. 

"He took me by the wrist and dragged me like a stubborn mule into the 
bathroom. He laid me out over his knees and stuffed the end of a nozzle from 
a douche-bag, jammed it up my sphincter. That hurt so much I thought for 
sure I was going to explode with that juice in my belly. Jesus, that was 
just too much. Of course, it made my little hole start getting a little bit 
turned on and I was quite ashamed to admit that, but then, once I got that 
thing out of me and got myself a seat on the toilet, then I was pretty well 
satisfied all around. It didn't take long for me to get drained. 

"But no sooner did I get that stuff out of me, and get a quick showering, 
when Ed was grabbing me by the arm and pulling me back into the bedroom. I 
think he'd even forgotten what he was punishing me for, but he said it 
needed to be done to make sure that I understood who I was and who he was. 
He flung me down on his knees and started spanking me. These weren't easy 
and soft slaps, either. These were ear-cracking smacks on my tender behind 
by his open hand. I tried to get free because I knew he was going to give me 
some sort of a purple fanny if I weren't careful, but even when I finally 
got free of him, he wasn't done with me. 

"He shoved me down on the bed and pulled my twat lips open. He used a tube 
of some sort of lubricant that we keep on hand and he shoved his joint down 
inside my hole until there wasn't any room for any more. And he kept coming 
in like that, even though I was all full up of his cock meat. I should have 
told him that he was an asshole for doing that, but I thought for sure he 
would kill me right then if I said so much as how-do-you-do! He was wailing 
up and down like a jackhammer. I loved the feel of it on the out-strokes but 
I dreaded it when he was coming in. It hurt so bad. 

"Finally, I just gave into that powerful sword and to my husband's will. It 
was like giving way to a cyclone. I really didn't have all that much choice. 

"I wrapped my arms around his back and held on for dear life. I felt the 
muscles in his back rippling in my, fingers. I reached down between his buns 
where I-found his crack. There I jabbed a good hard finger into his anus, 
but not so deep that it would hurt him too bad. I gave him a good little 
rubbing with that finger while he was punishing me with his huge fuck 
muscle. 

Jesus, it felt like the roto-rutor man was coming to take my insides away. 

"He put his hands up and under my globes. He worked a finger into my asshole 
while his cock kept drilling my front hole. He knew his fuck method, that's 
for sure! 

"After a little while I told him I loved him. He looked at me, he laughed, 
and then he slapped me across the face. He said, 'Bitch, you don't know the 
meaning of the word!' And he kept rocking up and down inside my twat. I 
didn't know what to say. He had me around the wrists and he was pressing my 
arms back behind my head. I must have had some terrified look on my face 
even though Ed didn't see it. My eyes, I think they were staring at him like 
fractured windows, and my body was sweating. No man ever hit me before, let 
alone when he had his cock rammed up my twat. I looked down between our two 
bodies and there it was, that huge muscle of his shining blue and glistening 
with fresh ooze, like dew. I wondered how he could possibly be enjoying his 
penis in my hole and hitting me at the same time. I tried to get up and get 
free, but that was about as useless a thing to be thinking about doing as 
going to the moon. It was just ridiculous. 

"Next thing I knew he smacked me again. He said, 'Listen you lousy little 
bitch. You try and get up again like that and I'll fucking ram a dildo down 
your throat. You hear me?' And he fucked me that way, with my arms pinned 
down, with my legs spread out, for about a half hour. I didn't have hardly 
any chance at all of getting away from him and by the time he finished using 
me-and that's what it was, Doctor, using me-I was sore all over. My insides 
were ready to bleed, but they didn't, and my chest was all sweaty and my 
titties were just about as blushing and flushed as they could be. I thought 
I would never recover. That's how abused and spent my body felt from that 
punishing fucking he did with my body that day. 

"Another time he found me jacking myself off, I don't know how he discovered 
me exactly. I was kind of laying in bed in the afternoon. You know how that 
can be, Doctor? You're laying around and you get to feeling like you might 
just like to feel your clit get hot or something. I was laying there feeling 
myself up and wondering if maybe I couldn't get a nice orgasm out of it. So 
I got up and I took off my cotton white shorts and I took off my blouse and 
my bra, and I took to stroking my loins, just testing myself to see if maybe 
I wouldn't get hot enough to cum or something. You know? So I went to 
rubbing that way and feeling myself and I got my clit to come to a full 
erection. It was up and straight and stiff like a Marine Sergeant. 

"My insides were fluttering like butterflies, too. They were all hot and 
sweaty and juice was oozing down from my hole. I felt for sure that I would 
get so fucking hot that I would be able to cum. i rubbed my titties with one 
hand, stroking my nipples, squeezing the soft creamy flesh. I kneaded the 
flesh of my chest until it was hot and as ready as any other part of my body 
for a fabulous fucking. I reached under my asshole and jabbed a finger up 
inside me to be sure that that side of me was equally sexually stimulated. 
It was important that I be as hot as I could. It was like magic. Having a 
finger in either hole gave me a lot of sexy feelings. I wanted to explode 
with all the sex I was feeling. It was getting so that I thought maybe my 
orgasm was on the way. I think it was just then that I opened my eyes. 

"I don't know why I looked up, but there was no doubt about what I saw. It 
was Ed. He was standing there looking down at me. He wasn't really looking 
at me, but at my cunt where my fingers had been. He was looking at me like I 
was some sort of a piece of shit. He had this glazed look in his eyes, like 
he couldn't understand what I was doing with my hand and like he didn't 
care-he was going to beat the shit out of me. 

" 'Ed, honey,' I said. 'Oh, boy, am I glad to see you. This means I don't 
have to rub myself anymore, right?' I reached out to take a little feel of 
his crotch, with the same hand that I'd been jacking my clit with, and he 
slapped my fingers. He said that I was a nasty little whore, a bitch and a 
tramp and that now I was going to see what it was like to get a good 
beating. I begged him not to do it, not to hit me. I knew that it wouldn't 
help either one of us. He was undressing though, and he had that glazed look 
in his face, and I didn't think there was anyway of stopping him. 

"I started up off the bed, as naked as the dawn, and he snatched me by the 
arm and flicked me, like I was a piece of stick or something, backwards 
across the room. He was strong enough that he could do something like that 
without even thinking. I landed on my back and my titties were wobbling. I 
was pretty shook up because I had a gander at how big that muscle was 
hanging there between Ed's legs. It was like it was larger than ever, thanks 
for his having the opportunity to throw me around a bit. He was coming at me 
before I knew it, and I understood that he wasn't going to be exactly 
friendly about the way he treated me. 

"The head of that big muscle of his was about as hot looking at a fired up 
piece of steel. He was going to be sticking that thing inside my cunt, and I 
thought for sure that I would be going crazy if I had such a large muscle as 
that thrusted into my body. You might ask, Doctor, how it was I had fucked 
him on so many other occasions and had no worry whatsoever about the size of 
his organ, and you would be right to ask that question. But the fact is 
simple: Ed's meat was larger than ever before on this occasion. I am not 
exaggerating. It was thicker, tougher looking, wider at the base. That shank 
of meat was so large and so long that I thought for sure I would die to have 
it plunged down inside my hole. Jesus, I'll never forget the looks of that 
big snake-head as he brought it toward me. 

"I begged him not to do it. But he didn't listen to me-not one bit. He 
pushed me down on my back and shoved his naked cock up against my hole. He 
rubbed the head of that meat into my pussy before I could say lickety-split. 
Then he pulled it out and told me to suck him off. I asked him why, but he 
smacked me on the face before I had even formed the word. I went dutifully 
to work on his prick. 

"I licked that thing from root to tip. I worked out on it as though the 
entire meat were just one big piece of hot dog and I were the buns. I rubbed 
it between my lips, sucked it with my tongue and my mouth at once. I used it 
like a toothbrush and held it with both hands. Then I laid down and pulled 
Ed close between my titties. I knew he would like that. I took his joint and 
pressed it first against my left cherry nipple and then at the creamy breast 
below. Then I did the same thing with the right. Finally, I used both 
titties at once. I squashed my two breasts at once around that thick pole of 
hot penis muscle. Mmmmmmmm . .. even though he was trying to hurt me I was 
enjoying myself a little bit. 

"Then, all of a sudden, he reached down under my buns and applied a finger 
to my sassy little asshole. I knew I was in for trouble now. He crammed that 
finger into my bunghole. I had to roll over in order to relieve the 
pressure. But the next thing I knew that finger of his was sliding up and 
down in my bunghole, rubbing around in my sphincter and giving me the 
hardest time I could possibly have in there. I didn't believe he was doing 
that. There wasn't any reason. His finger couldn't have been feeling that 
good from it. His mind must have been getting some incredible sensation from 
thinking about stuffing me with his digit. I don't know why he felt good 
from sticking his finger up my asshole, but just from the look on his face, 
which I could see in the mirror opposite the bed, I knew he was getting some 
pleasure out of hurting me that way. 

"It wasn't long after that I started screaming. I remember yelling like that 
one time when I was a very little girl. A boy who lived down the street had 
grabbed me by the hair. He pulled and yanked on my hair so hard that I 
thought I was going to be bald for the rest of my life. He just tore a big 
clump of my yellow blonde hair right out of my scalp. I went running home to 
my Daddy. 

"Well, that's how I felt when Ed was jabbing me with his finger. I wanted my 
father to come and beat him up the same way he had that day that little boy 
who pulled my hair. Only he didn't really beat up the little boy, he just 
spanked him. I wanted my Daddy to come and spank this man, my husband, for 
poking me in the asshole. 

"The next thing I knew Ed was spreading lubricant around between my buns. He 
was working the stuff up and down the walls of my crack. There was to be no 
stopping him. He was coating the walls with juice, making them as slippery 
and greasy as could be. I wanted him to keep doing that. It was a nice feel, 
but I knew that sooner or later it would turn into the same kind of 
punishment that he was doing before with his finger. 

" 'Please, Ed, darling,' I begged him, 'won't you let me give you some suck 
or something like that? Please, darling, let me give that meaty prick of 
yours a nice rubbing?' 

"He didn't say anything. He just kept sliding the side of his palm up and 
down between my cheeks. Pretty soon I couldn't help myself. I started 
wobbling up and down, working my ass in a little circle, getting all carried 
away and everything. I was so hot with the feel of that grease and his hand 
that I didn't care any more about what would come afterwards. I started 
saying, 'Oh, Ed, darling, please, oh, Ed, oh, fuck, shit, oh, slippery, oh, 
Ed, please, oh, God, darling...' 

"He just kept greasing me, me and his rod, and pretty soon I felt something 
pressing there between my two cheeks, something pressing in there and I knew 
it wasn't his hand any more. I could just tell that it wasn't the side of 
his hand, but I did know that something was pressing in my rear fold. It was 
when he leaned down close and whispered in my ear that he liked playing with 
my sphincter with his cock head that I knew I was going to be in for a lot 
of trouble, now, and all of a sudden he shoved forward and that meaty spongy 
head of his ripped at my bunghole and filled up my back alley. 

"Oh, Jesus, it was really something. I started swearing a blue streak. I 
yelled at him: 'You fuck head, you asshole, you ass wipe, you mother fucking 
pigshit arse in the wall, you piece of wasted urine-turd, you fucking 
copper, you mother fucking pig sty ...' and so forth. He hated to be called 
a pig or a copper because he was a policeman once, and when ever I called 
him a pig he felt terrible because he knew what turds they really were. But 
that didn't stop him for fucking me up the asshole, that way. No sir, he 
just went right ahead jamming and slamming. I could hear his pelvis slapping 
up against my asscheeks as I yelled as loud as my lungs would go. 

"Pretty soon, that pecker of his got to rolling all the way down my tube. It 
wasn't just stuffed up inside me; it was all the way down to my bowels; and, 
he had his fingers from one hand stuffing my cunt and his fingers from the 
other hand working out on my titties. I didn't know if I was going to be 
coming or going. My whole body was electric with the feel of that joint of 
his inside my anus. Even though it hurt me, it was also making me feel so 
fucking good that I couldn't believe it. I was just dying for it to be over, 
Doctor. That was very confusing. I was dying for that fuck to be over so 
that I could stop being punished. 

"Well, the next thing I knew he was pulling that pound-machine out of my 
anus and telling me to get down on the floor. I looked at him over my 
shoulder and he was getting some sort of harness device out of the drawer. I 
asked him what that was and he saw me looking. He told me to get down on my 
hands and knees on the other side of the bed or he would fucking rape me in 
the asshole again. I didn't know what to do. 

"I climbed off the side of the bed while he was busily clipping or 
unclipping something of his. I don't know what it was, but I was scared to 
death of what he was doing. Then he came climbing up over the bed and leaned 
down over me. 'Now this won't hurt,' he said. 'You just be good and it won't 
hurt a bit,' he said. He strapped this harness thing around me. It fitted 
over my chest and around my titties so that they were free to move any which 
way. Then another part of the thing went around my waist and attached around 
my hips. There was a part of it that went and looped around my twat and 
around my asshole. It had a metal clasp up on top and it was made of 
leather. It was some sort of a halter. The thing about it, though, was that 
there was a leash attached to the metal part up above. He could lead me 
around any way he wanted, like I was a monkey or something. 

"He started pulling on the cord and I had to follow him. It hurt in my cunt 
because of the cut of the leather if I didn't follow him. 'Come on, little 
monkey,' he said. 'You come with your hubby and there won't be any trouble 
at all.' He jerked me along like that, pulling me like a dog on a training 
leash. I didn't have any choice. Then, when he got me down the hallway on my 
hands and knees, and when we were on our way into the livingroom, he told me 
to wait there for him. He tied the leash up around the doorknob. I realized 
then that I could stand up. I did so and waited for him. I started to fiddle 
with the back of the gear, trying to get it loose. I did so after a little 
while, but it was too late. He was already back from locking up the front 
room and pulling the blinds. He refastened the leather halter in place where 
I had managed to loosen it. 

" Tou asshole,' he said, T was just getting to enjoy having you for a pet. 
And you go and ruin it.' He kicked me in the side and shoved me down on the 
ground. I didn't have much of a chance to get away. He forced me into a 
humiliating position in that harness. He could make me lay flat or force me 
to get up on my hands and knees, just by pulling that leash. 

"Pretty soon, after leading me around the livingroom, he told me to stay 
still. He got down with a boner hanging from between his legs and pushed it 
up against my creamy butt cheeks. He rubbed and slid and enjoyed the feel of 
my spread ass flesh. Then he released that part of the halter which guarded 
my butt hole and speared me with his knife-like flesh weapon. He shoved all 
of that massive joint into my orifice, down deep, all the way into my 
bowels. He shoved it all the way into me and there was no way to possibly 
get out of his vice-like grip. He had me with his hands around my shoulders, 
his cock impaling me through the bunghole. I felt like a lunch meat for a 
sex deviate. 

"Jesus Christ, Doctor, do I have to tell you more? After that, with the 
harness, you think there could be something more humiliating? You'd think 
not, eh? Well, there was. There was plenty of the same. 

"There was the night he came home and made me put the harness on myself. He 
would touch it, but when I told him I wouldn't dare do such a masochistic 
thing he slapped me across the face and sent me crashing into the bedroom 
closet. I fell down in a heap of old dresses and shoes. He picked me up and 
pulled me to my feet. 'Now,' he said, 'put on the harness.' I couldn't very 
well refuse. 

"I put the thing on and he made me suck him off. I had to get down on my 
hands and knees. He held the leash. He made me suck him hard. It was like 
being some sort of animal in heat. He was my master. He ruled me. By pulling 
on the choker device he could make my twat so sore that I would go crazy. So 
I licked and sucked his stiff meaty boner until he was ready to begin 
throbbing. If he told me to grab onto his rod, to hold it until hell freezed 
over, then I would do that. I grabbed onto that thick shaft and held it 
tight. I pulled on the lip of the crown with my tongue and my mouth lips. I 
rubbed and sucked and licked for as long as he wanted it. I could see the 
testes below getting hard, stiff, like rounded eggs, and goose bumps were 
spreading up and down his loins. 

"Then he pulled the leash, the choker, and I had to get up off of him. He 
turned over and showed him his asshole. 'Lick,' he commanded. 'Lick out my 
anus, bitch.' He pulled on the choker and my twat got another shock. I went 
into action, rubbing my mouth in and out of his asshole, Using my tongue to 
cleanse his filthy rear orifice. He let me, after that, go to the bathroom 
to wash out my mouth and brush my teeth. But he stood close at hand holding 
onto the leash so that he could continue to exert his devilish control on my 
body should he deem it necessary to do so at any time. 

"Finally, after I had washed, he reached out and played with one of my 
nipples. He stroked it up and down, rubbed it and worked it, and then he 
went with two hands, holding the choker in one, and squeezed one titty at a 
time. He sucked and licked at the nipple and then he backed off and told me 
in a gruff voice, like I were a poodle or a cocker-spaniel, 'Down, on your 
hands and knees. I'm going to fuck your buns.' 

"I got down because he pulled on that leather choker one more time. I spread 
my legs and he prepared my anus, and his cock with grease. He rubbed that 
slippery stuff all over my asshole across my buns, and all over his big 
tough meat. There was going to be no stopping him. It looked like whether I 
wanted it or not, that huge phallus of his would soon go winding up and down 
my anal alley. Jesus Christ, it was big though, and I could tell from 
looking at it that the up and coming ride was not going to be all peaches 
and cream. 

" 'O.k., wifey poo,' he said, 'now's the time to see how much you can take.' 

"'Please,' I begged him. 'Please, won't you let me do something else. Just 
let me-' 

"He yanked on the choker and I had to wince with pain. It was terrible to 
feel that leather strap grinding into my cunt that way. I would have rather 
he took a cigarette burning and smoldering and pushed that up against the 
sole of my foot than feel that strap on my twat that way. But he wouldn't 
listen to me, and he kept pulling that leather cord. Finally, I gave him all 
the vulnerable ass flesh he could possibly use and he shoved his cock meat 
down my anus. He pushed that sword of his into my holster and didn't stop 
pounding until he was all the way down the track. Even then he was still 
pushing and shoving hard, barely letting me get any relief at all. He wasn't 
going to stop until he go: all the way down in there and had tortured me to 
death...with his tool. It really hurt bad and I wanted to die because of 
that terrible pain he was causing me. It was wiping me out something fierce. 
I hated myself for letting him get to me that way and there wasn't anything 
I could do to stop him. 

"Pretty soon he reached around and released the part of the halter which 
guarded my cunt hole. He stuck his finger inside my pussy and pressed 
against my clitoris. He flicked my little clit up and down until it was hard 
as a pebble of gold. He rubbed it around and around like a miniature 
gear-shift. When I was leaking profusely and my legs were quivering with 
delight and juice, then he took my titties in one hand (my clit still in the 
other) and he squeezed so hard that I thought I was going to die. He wasn't 
trying to create pleasure in my body. He was trying to wipe me away with 
pain. I wanted to fall down and never think again. I cursed the day I 
married him, but at the same time I was loving the role of subservience that 
he was making me play. He was making me passive, docile, and I was being 
made to live out the role my mother said I should play. Pretty soon he shot 
off in my anus and he quickly strapped me up again. He clipped the piece of 
leather shut that went around my twat. He tied off the one which protected 
my asshole. Then he pulled on the choker and stood up. He made me go around 
the room on my hands and knees. 

"Then he made me stand. He made me walk around at arms distance so that he 
could inspect me. He made me prance like some sort of gelding and pretended, 
I'm sure, that he was a circus trainer. He prepared me for all sorts of 
special events, this was one of them, this prance around the livingroom, 
this little walk at the end of his leash. I wanted to break out and attack 
him, to dive for his nuts and chew them off, to cut off his ass cheeks with 
sharp razor blades, to make his nose bleed by sticking bamboo shoots up it, 
and to carve my initials in his forehead with sulfuric acid. I would do 
anything and everything to get back at him for the terrible way he had 
humiliated me. It was God-awful and I wanted revenge. I steamed under that 
devilish passive smile I was giving him, and I longed for the day when I 
would leap at his throat, like some sort of Doberman Pinscher suddenly gone 
awry. 

"But the timing, Doctor, the timing was to be everything. I had to plan my 
revenge so that it was both vengeful and sexual. It wouldn't do, for 
example, to merely shoot him in the head. It wouldn't do because he wouldn't 
know for a long enough period of time that he was going to die. I wanted a 
revenge that would debilitate him gradually, and by the time he would 
realize it, then it would be too late, and yet, he would suffer on for some 
time. I had to choose my methods carefully, and as he walked me around and 
around the livingroom, pulling on the choker from time to time just to let 
me know that the threat of pain was still real, I thought harder and gave 
more and more attention to this idea of revenge. Finally, the most wonderful 
solution of all dawned upon me. 

"I gave him no cause to suspect me of wanting revenge. I pretended that all 
of the brutalizing and agonizing methods he'd discovered for assaulting my 
flesh were enjoyable to me. I pretended that his rape up my asshole was a 
delight, that his clothespin technique on my clitoris was nothing but pure 
joy; that the way he pulled my titties as if they were weeds instead of 
stroking them as if they were rose petals-I even pretended that it made me 
hot and lusty to feel that. When he grabbed my nipples and made them hurt I 
told him it was ecstasy. When he yanked his cock out of his pants and 
crammed it up my anus so that it burned inside my bowels, I gave way 
willingly and didn't scream a bit. I told him that he could have me like 
that as much as he wanted. 

"One day he wanted to kick me. I invited him to break my ribs, to use his 
shoes and make me black and blue. I gave him plenty of opportunity to use 
that halter on me, too, and then, when the time was right, when I judged the 
moment to be appropriate, I sprinkled just the slightest bit of ground glass 
into his salad-a glass ground finer than any sand you could possibly see. 

"I would go and ask him to fuck me in the mouth, to make me sweat with 
desire and to punch me with his fist, even, in the titty. I would give him a 
good little sucking on the shaft of his meat while he cursed and whipped me. 
During dinner, when he wasn't looking, I would add a dash of the invisible 
ground glass to his coffee or his juice-just enough that he wouldn't taste 
it, just enough to begin grinding in his belly. 

"I would come home from work and fall down on my knees and beg him to kick 
and whip me some more. He would do so, and then, relieved that I was still 
right to do it. I prepared his dinner with just a bit more of the pulverized 
glass, the very same stuff which was weakening his body and making his 
sexual torture of my body less poignant, weaker, and less vicious. He was, 
daily, growing sicker, less strong, and slowly but surely, I now know, he 
will be giving up the use of the harness on my body. I don't regret 
anything, Doctor, but I wonder sometimes if I wouldn't have been better off 
if I had come to you first, before destroying him... I think it was too late 
though ... too late." 

CASE NUMBER FOUR: Janet R. 

"My husband's father, my father-in law, Doctor, he treated me no good. Ever 
since the beginning, even right after we got back from our honeymoon, he had 
it out for me. That was the first time, after the honeymoon, and I don't 
imagine I'll ever be able to forget it. 

"Jack-Jack's my husband-he was running track with a friend of his when his 
father came by. Mr. Rottle looked funny, even when I first opened the door 
for him, and it was morning so I didn't think he could be drunk already. But 
he was. I could smell it on his breath when he stumbled passed me. He didn't 
wait for me to invite him in or anything. He just shoved me sideways and 
nearly pushed me over. I got my balance by holding onto the door which I 
then closed behind him. 

"He wanted to know where his son was. I told him Jack was out running track 
and wouldn't be back for an hour. Mr. Rottle, he said that was good and 
started rubbing his hands together like he was washing them or something. He 
said it was good that his boy was gone away for an hour. Because he didn't 
want his son to see what was going to happen. I suspected something, but I 
still didn't know what he had in mind. I backed off some, to the kitchen, 
but it was too late. 

"He got his hands on my chest and I just stood there. I said all the usual 
stuff while he was rubbing up and down my titties. I told him I was his 
daughter-in-law, and how I didn't know what to say, about how I didn't think 
it was a good idea and all. But I felt sorry for him, sort of, and I was 
kind of thinking how it would be nice if he just got himself a feel of my 
chest and then passed out. In fact, I kind of thought at first that he was 
so drunk that he would do just that, that he would grab my titties and fall 
down and that would be that. I could smell that sweet stuff on his breath, 
and I knew he had had quite a lot to drink. I just watched his hands 
fondling my breasts and I hoped he would get his fill and get away from me. 
I was lucky, at first, because it was one of the few days I'd been wearing a 
bra. 

"After a minute or so of his rubbing on my chest that way he took to 
stroking on my belly. He went rubbing down along the side of my body and 
felt up my hips. I took my hands and put them on the backs of his hands. I 
was kind of trying to lead him away from me, so that he wouldn't get carried 
away. That's when I saw that he had a boner. I couldn't see the meat, 
naturally, but I could see that big bulge in his pants and there was no 
mistaking that cloth protrusion for anything but a mighty hefty hard one. I 
had my hands on the old man's and didn't know quite what to do. To tell you 
the truth, Doctor, the thought of that old man with an erection had sort of 
taken my breath away. 

"Well, before I could think up what next to do, he had a hand down between 
my legs. I was wearing levies and he went rubbing up and down in there, 
between my loins, as though he were a young lover with all the technique in 
the world. He just seemed to know exactly where to go and what to do when he 
got there. For one thing he found his way to the outside of my pussy lips 
and his fingers took to rubbing them back and forth. And for another, he 
made a little pie out of my two lips. He was able to get me juicing, that's 
what I mean to say. 

"After a minute or two he wasn't satisfied with working on the outside of my 
mound. I tried to push him away when he went for my belt buckle. It was one 
thing to have him working out on my cunt and all while I was wearing levies, 
but it was quite another for my own father-in-law to start thinking about 
putting his fingers inside the hole itself. So I tried to sidestep that old 
drunk man, but he grabbed me, tackled me around the waist, and we both 
tumbled down on the linoleum. 

I didn't know whether to start laughing or crying, but the old man was 
pawing away at my body as if we were still standing up. He had one of his 
gnarled hands up at my titty, and the other was still scrubbing and 
scratching at my mound and up and down my loins. He was reaching through, 
even, and trying to grab off some of my tight ass flesh. 

" 'Alright,' I said, 'this has gone far enough. You touch me anymore, grab 
anymore of what you have no right to be touching in the first place, and I'm 
going to scream. You understand? I'll scream my lungs out and the cops will 
come, and you and your boy will have a great deal of explaining to one 
another and to the community to do. Do you understand, Mr. Rottle?' 

"Well, that old man just smiled those long yellow teeth of his, reached a 
finger up and back along the backside of his gums, like to replace his 
falsies or to pick something out of his molars, and then, like by surprise, 
he pounced on me all over again. I could hardly move from the way he had me 
pressed down flat on the floor. I was so shocked and taken aback by his 
continued advances that I forgot to follow through with my threat to scream 
my head off. 

"Down below-talk about shock and surprise-I could feel that old man's boner. 
It was rubbing against my leg, and you know something, Doctor? It was stiff 
like a dildo is stiff, or like a young man's pecker is stiff., It wasn't 
soft and just a little hard the way you might expect from an old man. No 
sir. That thing of his was a good eight inches long and wobbling like a 
fence post what's almost pounded all the way in. I reached down there and 
started pulling on it. I just couldn't help myself. I had to get a hold of 
that thing, even if it meant doing something with my father-in-law that I 
wasn't supposed to be doing. I reached down and squeezed it.. 

"Oh, God, Doctor, let me just tell you that it doesn't matter one bit if a 
man is old or young. That's what I learned that day. Mr. Rottle's erection 
was just as stiff as any woman could crave. The thing was long and sturdy, 
sturdy like a whip handle, long like a cobra. I wanted to see it naked, and 
once the old man had had his fill of rubbing up and down on me, that's what 
we next went to. I got his belt open and pulled that big thing out of his 
pants. Wow, it wasn't just large and thick and hard-it was also a beautiful 
sight. The tip was spongy and pink, and the shaft was throbbing even before 
I got it completely clear of his underwear. 

"He leaned down on my naked chest-I don't know how he did it, but he got my 
chest naked-and he started rubbing his lips all over my big long titties. He 
took one of his hands and kneaded the flesh of my left boob. He rubbed it up 
and down and squeezed it until the nipple was about as red and about as ripe 
as a rose bud. I thought he was going to squeeze it so hard that milk would 
come out of it. 

'Then he pushed me down flat and he did something to me that my husband 
never did. He took his joint and went rubbing and sliding up and down 
between my two big titties, I guess Jack just hadn't got around to doing 
that kind of thing on my body, but his father was ready for that kind 
of-rubbing from the beginning. 

He took to pushing his meat up and down against my creamy slopes, and it 
seemed like that old man, as saggy and as rickety as everything else was 
about him, it seemed that he could keep a hard-on for just about forever. I 
took to pushing my breasts up and down along the sides of his penis. And I 
could see how much that mushroom head of his was enjoying that. It filled 
with fresh hot blood and blushed crimson, just like the old man's liquor 
filled snout. Jesus, we were both higher than a kite! 

"After that rub up between my titties, the old man went sliding down between 
my legs. He stuck his nose up there, right on in between my two twat lips, 
and he didn't think anything of getting his tongue working on the flesh of 
my vagina. He was just all out for it, that day, and he wasn't about to make 
any kind of compromise. He wanted to eat out my hole, and by God, that's 
what he did. He rubbed his nose and his chin and his lips in that sweet 
honey pot of mine, worked his face up and down against the lips and the 
flesh there, and then he concentrated on the clitoris. I don't know how he 
did it or why, but-he got his tongue flapping on my clit so hard that I 
thought he was using his fingers. Only I knew he wasn't using his fingers 
because all ten of them were up around my two titties, rubbing and squeezing 
my chest until it was about ready to explode with passion. He knew his way 
around a woman's body-that's for sure! He sure knew his way about mine, 
anyhow. 

"Well, my juices started to flowing and stinking up the kitchen. Don't 
forget, we were still groveling on the floor. The old man hadn't given me 
time to get undressed and all and go in the bedroom or something. We were 
still working it out on the kitchen floor. You know what I mean? I mean 
there I was naked, or half-naked, with my titties hanging out of my blouse 
and my pants pulled down around one leg, and that old man's face was 
dripping clit juice and all, and we were both about as hot as a couple of 
teenagers parking for the first time. I mean we were huffing and puffing and 
trying to catch our breath while we were laying there in the middle of the 
linoleum. 

"Well, finally we got up and went to the bedroom. On the way we undressed 
all together. I gave up fighting and decided I would just this once go along 
with whatever the old man wanted. It would be a one time thing. I wouldn't 
have to worry about it again. I would just fuck him this once and that would 
be it. I figured I could do that, and that I could forget about it. 

"I spread myself out on the bedroom floor. The old man, he wanted to do it 
in the bed. So I climbed up off the floor. I thought maybe we could do it on 
the floor and save me having to change the sheets before my husband got 
home. But I gave in to that too. I got up on the bed. 

"Well, Mr. Bottle, he knew what he wanted. First, he wanted to grease up my 
butt. I told him that I didn't think we had a lot of time for that. He said 
for me to forget about time and start getting my asshole juicy. I took the 
tube of oil from him and spread some of that stuff in my rear slot. I got 
some in there on the elastic band, my sphincter, and spread myself open a 
little bit. 

I didn't want that big meat of his going in there cold turkey. I wanted to 
make sure I was lubricated, and that he was lubricated too. To take care of 
that I went down on him. He enjoyed getting some header from me, maybe 
because I was young, maybe because I'm good. I took my time and used my 
tongue to give him a good rubbing. It was not long before that big boner of 
his was blistering hot and ready to go. I could just tell, just from 
looking. 

"He smiled at me when I looked up from his hog. I could see the old man's 
teeth wobbling loose. That's how excited he was. Those falsies of his were 
slipping because his gums were sweating. He was looking more and more like a 
big old horse. I wondered if he had any pizzazz left in him, or if maybe all 
the glue that was in his balls belonged in a bottle. He wasn't wondering 
about that, though. He was thinking about getting that big thick meat of his 
into my asshole. So I guessed that old stallion wasn't ready for retirement 
yet after all. A minute later he proved that for sure! 

"He pulled my buns open with two hands. Then he took my hands and put my 
fingers down on the edges of my anal crack. He worked my fingers and showed 
me how to keep my tube open for him. Then he took his big meat and stuffed 
the tip of that thing up to the entrance of the hole. He bore down pretty 
hard and stuffed that cylinder of mine with all of that powerful hog head. 
He worked it down inside my anus and didn't stop going into me until I was 
completely full of him. I couldn't believe how much meat he got in there 
before it started hurting. I was rather impressed with my own anal abilities 
as well as with my father-in-law's forwardness. He knew how to press his 
point home in my anus, and I knew how to make all of that possible. It was a 
nice meaty combination. 

"Pretty soon he shot off up there and that was that. I mean he just started 
throbbing like a stick of TNT exploding and he filled my pudding hole with 
jism juice. It was all over and he yanked that big long stick of his out of 
my ass flesh. I was a bit relieved to feel that thing clear away. It was 
beginning to feel more like a sword than a cock. 

"Mr. Rottle lay back on the bed. I could see he was panting a mile a minute. 
I didn't know what to do to comfort him. I was leaning next to his arm with 
my titties. He indicated that maybe I should get up and wipe him with my 
breasts. I leaned over his body and let my two big knockers hang down low on 
his body. I went rubbing from side to side, caressing him with my nipples. I 
stroked up and back on his body, making all that sweaty flesh of the old 
man's about as tingly as could be. He liked it. I could tell by the smile on 
his face that he was enjoying himself. I went stroking that way for about a 
half-hour, it seemed, up and down his old body until he was quieted down and 
breathing more naturally. 

"It was only natural, too, that I ended up next to his balls. I worked 
around them with my titties. Then, when the temptation got to be too much 
for me, I took to using my tongue on that thing. It was a big long flesh 
stick and I couldn't keep from going down on it. I rubbed my tongue up and 
down on that thing. I worked my mouth muscle around the rim of that organ, 
and then I took to rubbing it around the base of the shaft. I kissed the 
balls and I worked my face in and out of his crotch. It was a lot of fun 
getting going on the underside of the shaft, too. And I was sure to spread 
my tongue out across the top of his dick, also. I rubbed and gave him some 
of the nicest header he ever got. To finish things off I took the whole big 
cap inside my mouth and sucked really hard, rubbed and sucked. Pretty soon 
he was about as erect, his muscle was about as stiff, and there were about 
as many chills going up and down that old man's belly as could be. He was 
hot for it, Doctor, and I was ready to enjoy it, too. 

"It wasn't like when we first started, when I was afraid and worried about 
being raped and all. This was me, Janet Rottle, and I was doing as much as I 
could to enjoy myself as much as the old man. It was really something. 

"I started out by climbing up on that second boner. I got up there on top of 
the old man and leaned down close to him so that my titties were squashed 
flat on his chest. And I worked my rump up and down and he got a finger in 
there, just to make sure. And my twat was full of his cock meat, all up to 
the brim, chocked full. I rubbed and squeezed on that big hard-on muscle of 
his until there was no way that the old man could keep from shooting off 
like a Bicentennial Roman Candle Fuck Stick. Mmmmm, it was good, Doc. Super 
fucking terrific good! I loved every squirt. 

"But then came the sad part. After the old man shot off inside me, and after 
we changed the sheets and everything, and we were laughing about what a good 
time we were having and all that kind of thing, then, all of a sudden, we 
both looked up at the same time. We saw Jack, my husband Jack, and Mr. 
Rottle's son, he was standing there looking at the bedroom window and we 
didn't know how long he had been watching us. We were both dressed now, but 
that had only been for a minute or so. Jack came stomping into the house 
from the back door and Mr. Rottle went out to meet his son who was awfully 
angry and I stayed behind in the bedroom, hoping and praying that I wouldn't 
be beaten to death. 

"A minute later I heard the two of them yelling and carrying on. Now Mr. 
Rottle, he might have been a match for me in bed, but he certainly wasn't 
any kind of a match for his son in a fist-fight. I heard some lamp go 
crashing, and there was the shatter of glass on the kitchen floor, on that 
rubber linoleum, and I went running. What I saw was terrible and Godawful. 
Mr. Rottle was on the floor and his son was holding a lamp base up in the 
air and he was about to hammer his own father's head with it. Mr. Rottle was 
shouting at Jack: 'Go on, go on and do it you chicken-livered lilly-faced, 
snooty little wart nosed...' And he was taunting his son, telling, him that 
he could try and kill him if he wanted, if he dared, and I went dragging 
myself across that room as fast as I could and couldn't get that lamp out of 
Jack's hand, but I was able to stop him from clouting his Daddy. I told him 
that everything that happened between me and his father was entirely my 
fault, and that if he wanted to go beating on someone, it was me he could 
beat on. Because I was the sinner. 

"Jack, he climbed up off the old man and glared at me. I told him again that 
he could beat me up any way he saw fit. He pushed me backwards and then he 
pushed me again. He kept shoving me like that, using both of his hands and 
pushing me on the titties. He pushed me backwards down the hallway and 
shoved me onto the bed. He took his running shorts off and didn't say a 
word. I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn't listen now. He was going to 
punish me no matter what I said. So I just laid there and waited for 
whatever it was he was going to do to me to get even. 

"Pretty soon he was naked and that big muscle of his was hanging down limp 
like old spaghetti. He told me to get down on the floor and to suck him off 
until he was hard. I asked him if I couldn't tell him something so he looked 
at me and then smacked my face. I nearly started crying. When I started to 
yell at him he grabbed me around the neck and dragged me from the bed like a 
mutt. He shoved me down on the ground in front of him and made me take his 
penis in my face. I would have done it anyway, but he wanted to force me, to 
carry on and make it be something humiliating. I took his prick in my mouth 
and thought about how I could bite it off if I wanted to. I could just bite 
it off and end it all for both of us. 

"But I didn't. I just licked it. I pressed my titties up against his thighs 
and took hold of the base of the shaft with my two hands and I took the meat 
inside my mouth and rubbed with my lips and my tongue. He was holding my 
head by my hair, my long silky blonde hair, gathered up in his fist so he 
could make my face go in any direction at once on his hog boner. I didn't 
want to have to do it that way, but he was rather insistent about it. I just 
let him work my face up and down on the shaft of his meat as much as he 
liked. He made me work on his joint tip that way for about ten minutes. When 
he was finally hard he took me by my hair and pulled my face off of his 
tool. I wondered where my father-in-law was right then, if he was still 
decked out in the kitchen. 

"Jack wrapped his hands around my face and told me in a really soft sadistic 
whisper he was going to let me loose, but that if I didn't do as he said he 
would really hurt me bad. He let go of my face. He told me he wanted me to 
go licking in his asshole. I told him that I didn't want to do that. He 
grabbed me around the back of the neck and he squeezed me really hard. He 
told me that he would strangle me if I didn't eat out his anus. I said 
alright. 

"He got down on his hands and knees. He spread his buns and I looked at that 
brown anus. I didn't want to put my tongue in there. But he was making me do 
it. I didn't have any choice. I measured the distance from the bed to the 
door. I figured that if I moved at top-speed, as fast as I could go, I would 
be able to get to the end of the hallway before he would catch up with me. 
But then he would have me again. I would have to wait until I could reach 
the street, until I could run naked into the streets and scream out rape 
until the police came. I was frightened. I looked back between his buns. The 
hole was still there, and then, in a moment of terrible disgust, I leaned 
down and put my tongue to my husband's asshole. There was no taste at all, 
but there was the smell of his sweat from his track running earlier in the 
morning. I licked him for a while and then he turned around and grabbed me 
by the hair again. 

"He picked me up that way, nearly uprooting a lock the size of his fist. He 
dragged me into the bathroom and made me wash my mouth with soap and water. 
Then he thrust me down over his knees and fisted a nozzle from the douch bag 
into my anus. He filled the rubber sack with hot water and screwed it into 
the tube. Then he squeezed and filled me full of that liquid. Jesus, I 
thought my bowels were going to turn into the Hindenberg Blimp. I thought I 
was going to burst into flames. Just when I couldn't take any more he picked 
me up from his thighs and pushed me into the tub. The water was leaking out 
of my asshole when he put on the shower. At first it was entirely cold spray 
of water, and then it went hot and bubbly. I was momentarily relaxed to have 
that juice out of my bowels and a refreshing rain of clean water coming down 
on my skin. It was good. For an instant I was able actually to forget about 
what it was like to be punished for sleeping with my father-in-law. 

"But a moment later Jack's big hand reached into the shower and grabbed me 
by the hair: 'We're not done yet, bitch,' he said, and he literally yanked 
me right out of the tub. He thrust me down in the hallway and I was still 
dripping wet. I was getting a little turned on from the treatment, not 
because I liked be- ing thrown around, but because I liked the idea of not 
having any control over my body. Sometimes when I masturbate I think up 
things like that, about not having any control over what's happening to me. 
And this punishment from my husband for cheating with his father was just 
like that. I didn't have any say about what was going on. It was, in some 
ways, a lot like my fantasies. 

"Anyhow, he took me into the bedroom by pulling on my hand before I could 
get to my feet. He dragged me like that and pushed me down on the floor. 
There in the bedroom he told me to suck him off some more. I took his joint 
in my two hands and rubbed up and down on the tip with my tongue. I licked 
him and sucked on the mushroom crown until it was bursting with red heat. 
Then he took my face off his pecker and shoved me down on my belly. 

"He mounted my twat from the rear, between the backs of my legs. His long 
studly meat stuffed my hole very hard. That mushroom head went pounding up 
inside there where his father's pecker had been an hour before. Of course, 
although I didn't mention it before, I was careful to clean myself while I 
was showering, so there was no chance of there being anything but a fresh 
pie left for my husband. I didn't want him to blow-up and get mad at me all 
over again. 

"Once he got his meat inside my tube Jack couldn't help but calm down a 
little. He wasn't nearly so angry, and his mood was getting better and 
better all the time. I started rocking on that stick of his, rocking and 
rubbing on it. Gradually, that big long hard-on went all the way up inside 
my hole, so far inside me that I could feel it banging away at the back wall 
of my pussy. It was like some sort of pneumatic drill had been applied to 
the inside of my body, and it wasn't going to stop until it hit pay dirt. I 
loved the feel of that heady thing as it jacked me up into the land of 
ecstasy, even despite the feeling of anger which prompted its insertion. I 
didn't mind that so much, though, since my clitoris was getting damn hard 
and since the juices secreted by my interior flesh were getting awfully 
slick and were oozing plentifully, like a gushing, bubbling water fall. I 
was getting really hot, Doctor, and it was a good feel, even though Jack 
hadn't intended it that way. I know for sure that he had only wanted to 
punish me. 

"So I tried to keep from yelling out, tried to keep from letting my blush 
show because I knew that it would make him even more angry with me if he saw 
what a good time I was having, how hot he was making me with that stick of 
his. I thought for a minute there that I might even cum from the feel of 
that joint of his rubbing inside my twat hole. I wanted to cum because that 
would make everything just about perfect in some strange way. 

"But Jack, before I had a chance to climb the ecstasy ladder all the way to 
the top, he pulled his meat out and shoved it into my asshole. I was a 
little bit surprised and stupified by that, because I hadn't expected such a 
move at all from him, but there it was, that big hard joint of his all the 
way up inside my bowels and that mushroom head was tickling my insides. 
Jesus, he got it right in there as if he hadn't even had to think about it. 
He just shoved it right up inside and took it for granted. I wondered what 
he would think when he found out my asshole was stretching out wide and was 
going to get worn out... 

"About a minute later he was pumping cum into my body, in the back hole. He 
was throbbing and squirting off, and he wasn't even thinking about me at 
all. He was just pounding away, filling me up and flooding my hole with all 
of that hot cum juice of his. I loved it, loved the feel of that super dick 
spray and couldn't get over how hot I was getting even despite the fact that 
I wasn't supposed to be enjoying myself. 

"When it was all over we all three of us, my father-in-law and Jack and me 
had a little talk. We decided that it wasn't a good idea for us to go 
beating up on one another. I fixed my father-in-law's cut eyebrow while Jack 
lectured on the merits of peace. We all three decided that there was no 
reason for us to be jealous of each other, and that I could sleep with 
either my husband or the old man, whoever I wanted, just so long as it was 
all out in the open and all. I didn't like the idea all that much because I 
knew that Jack was just pretending to be ahppy about the way things were 
working out. Really he was still pissed off that I had fooled around at all, 
especially so soon after we were just married. 

"Well, it wasn't but about five days later when Mr. Rottle came around 
again. Only this time he came around when he Jack would be away for more 
than an hour and he wasn't drunk, either. He came in without knocking and he 
found me in a slightly compromising position. I was spread out on the 
livingroom sofa and I had one leg lifted up so that my loin was showing, and 
I had my other leg stretched out so that I could rub it nice with my left 
hand. I had my housecoat open around my titties and around my hips so I 
could get to my nipples and my cunt really easy. It, was obvious what I was 
doing as soon as Mr. Rottle stepped in the door. So I didn't make any effort 
to cover it up, neither. He smiled at me and I told him that I wished he 
would knock before he came barging into the house like that. And I pulled 
the coat closed around my boobies and my legs. 

"Mr. Rottle was wearing a baseball cap and he took it off of his head and 
slapped his knee with it and cackled: 'Looks like I'm just in the nick of 
time, don't it?!!' He pulled up a cushion right next to where I was spread 
out on that sofa and started feeling me up on my chest. 'Listen,' I said, 
'Just because you found me here and just because I happen to be a little bit 
vulnerable, as they say, that doesn't give you cause to go rubbing my body 
any which way you see fit, old man. Do you understand?' I reached up onto my 
chest and took his hand off my nipple. He was taking to rubbing my breast 
with his palm. Not that I minded it so much-it wasn't that at all. I just 
wanted to have some say in the matter. And anyhow, my nipples were just 
about as hard and cherry red as they were going to be and there wasn't any 
reason to overdo them. 

"Mr. Rottle wasn't terribly put off by my gesture. He took his other hand 
and reached down between my legs and said very sarcastically: 'May I?' He 
laughed a bit and I spread my legs with a chuckle. His finger went sliding 
down on my clitoris which I had just gotten a little bit hard before he came 
bursting into the livingroom. 'I see that you know where to pick up and get 
going,' I whispered in the old man's ear. 'I like that' 

" 'After all these years,' said Mr. Rottle, 'I guess I ought to know where a 
woman likes to be rubbed and how often, eh?' He smiled and kept flicking my 
clit up and down with his old yellowed finger. You could see his knuckles 
there, sticking out and all, the way they do on old people's fingers. He had 
spots, like big freckles, and large brown and yellow ones, too, on his 
hands, and I kind of liked to watch the tendons and the sinewy part of his 
wrist get to moving while his digits were fluttering and performing their 
magic on my little clit flesh knob. It was quite a nice little thrill, and 
he was very, very astute about having said he was right on time. It was 
absolutely the truth. 

"Now I wasn't the only one getting turned on right there on that sofa. Mr. 
Rottle's boner was sticking up in his pants and making a God-awful bulge in 
them. It looked like he had a little bird caged up in his trousers, some 
sort of a mouse hiding in there. I reached down and gave the 'creature' a 
kind of gentle pat on the head, just to let him know that we could be 
friends if he wanted to. I went sliding my palm up and down on my 
father-in-law's pants until that bulge turned into a balloon. Then I 
unsnapped the trousers altogether and pulled down the cotton drawers inside 
so that I could get to the heart of the matter, which wasn't heart at all. 
But it was one-hundred per cent, grade A, prime tenderloin, just like I 
remembered it from five days before. Mmmmmm, it was a sight for sore eyes! 

"I yanked that thing out of his pants and before my father-in-law could say 
lickety-split I had his banger device inside my mouth. My tongue was 
slurping it up, rubbing and rolling across the head of that meat, giving 
that flesh arrow-head all the sucking and sexual stimulation it could 
possibly use. Mr. Rottle started breathing awfully hard, too, and it wasn't 
long before I thought he was having a coronary or something. That was all I 
needed, for that old man to drop dead while I was sucking him off. No sir, I 
didn't want that so I slowed up and told him to catch his breath and take 
ita little easy, to take things just a little slow. He smiled at me, and 
winced abit, and I saw that I was right, that he did need a little break, 
but even after a couple of seconds of that he was ready to go back down to 
eating me out, ready for me to finish with my oral coitus on his boner. 

" 'Listen, old man,' I explained, 'I love to give you a good blow-job and 
all that kind of thing, but you have to take it easy. Look at you, you're 
sweating and perspiring all over. And you got a blush on you the envy of a 
rose petal. You're blood red and wet to-boot and still you want me to keep 
sucking on that spongy mushroom head?!? You'll drop dead before the second 
squirt pops out of there! You take it slow for a minute or two, and then I'l 
even give you some hum job. How's that sound?' 

"He nodded and caught his breath some. Maybe it was the promise of more 
exotic sex, but he was now willing to sit back and rest for a bit. I did him 
a favor, just to keep his meat upright while he was sitting there, and I 
locked the doors and put on some music. I started doing a little dance, 
waddling around in the livingroom and showing him my wares. Not that he 
didn't know me pretty well already-don't get me wrong. But I wanted to keep 
him hot and lusty, and I wanted to try out something new, that dancing bit. 
So I spread my legs to a bouncy little rhythm and waddled here and there up 
and down the livingroom. Pretty soon the old man was calmed down but he was 
bug-eyed at same time. He was still hot, but he wasn't panting like a 
marathon runner in the last quarter mile. He was getting ready for just a 
little more rubbing and sucking. Then I would give him the final hum-down to 
fuck-time! 

"So I danced my way over to where he was sitting, and I made my titties go 
swinging in little circles. He liked to watch the nipples bouncing around, 
and I kind of liked to see his big eyes popping out of his head that way. He 
watched me moving around like that, and then I landed my two legs around his 
thigh. I limbered up around that leg of his and rubbed my mound nearly into 
his face. Then I danced backwards off the old man's thigh and spread myself 
down onto his joint. I gave him the humming he deserved. Pretty soon his 
meat was ready for a dive in my pool. 

"I brought him down on the floor with me and had him poke that huge muscle 
in place inside my jam device. It didn't take much to cleave me wide open. I 
enjoyed that muscle of his the way a fresh piece of earth loves the scythe. 
It was a perfect combination, and it only took me about five minutes to get 
cuming in little spurts while the old man was waiting it out for the big 
orgasm action. He didn't have to wait but a minute longer because when I saw 
how hot and horny he was right then I took to squeezing with my interior 
fleshy muscles. And before long I had a good hold on the mushroom head of 
the old man's cock, and there wasn't anything he could do anymore to control 
the big surge of passion which was passing through his body like a wave of 
electric shock. He juiced off inside me, and he very nearly flooded the 
whole canal out. A minute later we were asleep in each other's arms. It was 
a very nice fuck indeed! 

"The next day, when Jack came home from work, he told me that he was 
surprised, the previous afternoon, to have seen his Daddy so happy. He 
didn't know what it was, Jack said, but there was some kind of cheerful look 
in his face. He wondered if maybe his old man had some sort of new girl 
friend that nobody knew anything about. Knowing that my husband was just 
hinting around for me to say something, I merely continued to wash the 
dishes as if everything was completely normal. After all, our deal was that 
if I fucked around I would tell him about it. And I hadn't, so I stood to be 
in a bit of trouble. 

"But that night in bed I found out that his worries had been put to rest. He 
told me so himself. I was happy that I could smile to myself in the dark and 
not be found out. It was kind of nice to know something that my husband 
didn't know. And it was very nice to be done with all the punishment action 
he'd been meteing out for me in the previous week. Now we were going to have 
some love-making, the kind of lusty action for which I married Jack in the 
first place. 

"He took me in his arms and pulled me close to him. He rubbed his big young 
member against the side of my leg. pushed his meat up tight against my 
crotch and went rubbing in my pubic forest. I liked the feel of that spongy 
head growing while it was grinding. It felt good to be useful for my hubby. 
Pretty soon my twat lips were leaking and drooling. There is no stopping me 
once that starts happening. Seeing that Jack's bone was about as erect and 
as stiff as it was going to be, I decided it was time to get up on it and 
give myself a stirring. 

"I pushed him onto his back and a minute later I had him throbbing off up 
inside my hole. It was a first class fucking. I rocked and rolled on that 
hammering phallus, rubbed myself and my clit especially into a lather of 
passion. A minute more and I was cuming and so was Jack. 

"Wasn't but a week after that when my father-in-law and I had made up a 
regular appointment time. Nowadays I fuck Jack on the even days and Mr. 
Rottle on the odd ones. Sometimes I get caught, but I still don't tell Jack 
about my fooling around. I always promise to love just his hog, just his 
balls and his asshole, but that isn't really possible. I also promise I will 
tell him if I'm going to cheat and fuck with some other man's rod. I don't 
do that, don't tell him about it. I just go ahead, And if I get caught, then 
I suffer the consequences, I don't like getting beat, but I can't understand 
what good it would do to get beat up in advance. Did I ever tell you about 
the mailman and how I got away with it with him one day? It was nice because 
he really knew how to eat my pie. Now how could I have told Jack about that 
in advance? I didn't even know myself that I was going to have some nice 69 
with that man until..." 

CASE NUMBER FIVE: Barbara T. 

"Well, Doctor, I met my husband at a cafe in Venice. It was a sleazy little 
joint with the paint chipping off the walls. But the tips were good, and for 
a two-time loser like me, a job as a waitress and the chance to meet a few 
people-well, I couldn't very well pass it up. And besides, it worked out 
pretty good for a while. Because in that cafe, that's where I met Chuck. 

"I think I knew the minute he walked in that I was going to fall for him, 
fall for him and fall in love and fall head over heels and maybe never get 
up again. He just had that look on his face. He was wearing a beard at the 
time, and he had hair down to his shoulder. So do I, have hair down to my 
shoulders, and I have a beard, but it's not on my face .. . Just a little 
funny, a little comic relief, Doctor. Forgive me ... 

"Anyhow, I was clearing a table and I looked up and there he was. Chuck was 
always one of my favorite names, and when I asked one of the other girls 
what his name was I nearly fell over dead right then. I mean, wow, there he 
was, a man of my dreams with my favorite dream-man name, Chuck, and there he 
was just sitting there eating his hamburger and all. I was really flippy for 
him, if you know what I mean. It was what when I was a kid I would have 
called a crush. I just really wanted to get it on with him, and there wasn't 
anything was going to stop me. I went into the bathroom and made myself 
pretty, and then I went over and just sat right down next to him. 

" 'I hear they call you Chuck, man,' I said, really up front and all. I 
pushed my chest out at him so that he could tell I wasn't kidding around. 
You know what I mean? He could see my nipples, if he looked, and I sure was 
glad that I was wearing a net blouse that day, because I was happy like a 
lark is happy that this dude could see my chest, my big bare chest, because 
some men say it's my best asset and I wanted to use all the big guns at once 
to make sure I got this guy to ask me for my phone number and all. After 
all, man, his name was Chuck and I just had to find out if he was from 
Venice or the Valley or what. I really did want a piece of that tail of his. 

"I know some girls don't like to talk about their men that way but I like to 
talk about my men like they're meat. You know what I mean, Doctor? I mean, 
Chuck, he was just so super looking and all, I couldn't keep from thinking 
about what it would be like to have his meat going inside me, making me hot 
and horny and all. Oh, God damn I wanted that dude to FUCK me! 

"Anyhow, I reached under the table, and I said, 'Hey, man, maybe you and I 
could get it on?' I stroked down the inside of his leg and I got to his 
crotch. With one hand I worked on that organ of his, even though it was 
buried in his pants and all, but with the other I did the important stuff: I 
wrote down my name and my phone number so he would call me and really get to 
work on it. 

"Well, after that muscle of his took on some form and all, and after I saw 
that I was really interrupting his meal, and also there were other 
customers, I got up from his table and went over to the other side of the 
cafe and back to work. I didn't forget about him, but I had to ignore that 
itch getting going in my box because I had so much work to tend to. But 
before I knew it my shift was over and I was sitting down at a table 
counting my tips. Wouldn't you know it? Who came up and started rapping to 
me? It was Chuck! Isn't that far out, man? I mean REALLY! 

"Well, he put one boot up on a chair across from me and leaned down on his 
knee and said, 'I sure would like to get it on with you, Barbara,' and he 
smiled and waited for me to say something back to him. I just kept counting 
my money and tried to keep from looking up alongside his leg, which I had 
done a minute before and I seen that he still had that big bulge there in 
his pants. After I took that pause I looked up at him and smiled. "I think I 
said that before,' I told him. 'Yes,' he said, 'and now ifs time to get 
things going for real, honey.' ' 

" 'Not here,' I said, picking up my purse and scooping my money into it. 'My 
place.' I smiled and led the way. I said goodbye to everyone and felt 
Chuck's hand slide down on my firm buns on the way out of the cafe. 

"It seemed like it took us forever to get back to my apartment which was 
only just down the block and upstairs over the boardwalk. But once we got 
there, well, everything happened pretty quick. 

"No sooner were we inside, and no sooner had I put my purse down when I 
turned around and he took me in his arms. He whispered something and I think 
he said he was into making me his slave. I didn't know for sure what he 
meant by that, but he could kiss so good that I didn't care. He gave me his 
whole tongue, all the way down my throat, and I reached for his cock 
thinking that maybe he would like some header. Pretty soon I slid down on my 
knees and pulled that precious piece of steak beef out of his pants. It was 
longer even than I thought it would be, and I knew for sure that this dude 
Chuck was a much better prize than me and my lady friends had ever imagined. 

" 'Oh, gee,' he said that first time, 'you don't have to do that if you 
don't want to,' and he grabbed me by the back of the head and slammed his 
joint into my face. I traveled on it with my tongue. I licked the head, and 
I made a point of sucking off the root. From there I went to his balls. 
Giving him a kiss here and a Frencher there, I took care of his scrotum. 
Pretty soon goose bumps popped up. On his thighs a whole crop grew. On his 
butt end there was a chill. I rubbed his two cheeks while I continued using 
his joint for a mouth dildo. It was an A-l foreplay action for the two of 
us. We both knew our ways around. 

"Well, we hadn't been in bed for more than five minutes when that dude 
slammed his rod up into my cunt. He'd spent that previous five minutes, by 
the way, eating me out. That was something I had enjoyed immensely. After 
work there's nothing can relax me as well as a good chew on my clit. He gave 
it to me, too. He rubbed and sucked and took his time getting me hot and 
juicy, as tender as a little piece of fried clam. Then he took that hog head 
of his and bored into me like I was cement and he was a jackhammer. 

"Feeling that hefty tempered flesh as it rode through my tunnel, I had a 
sudden feeling that I was going to marry that dude. I don't know how I knew, 
I just did. I knew from the feel of his rod, the way that piston of meat 
ground inside my body, the way that big hunk of hard-on took away my 
feeling of emptiness. I knew that Chuck was the man for me-for me and my 
cunt. 

"It wasn't but a few days later when we married. It was quick and easy, and 
for our honeymoon we went to Mexico. When we got back, we were so tired out 
from fucking and sucking that Chuck had to take a little vacation and I had 
to go easy on my work schedule at the cafe. But finally we were back in 
shape and it happened again: we were about to make love and Chuck whispered 
in my ear: I'm going to make you my slave.' 

"I tried to pay it no mind, but the next day, after I came home from work 
and was dead tired, I wanted to take a quick shower and go to sleep. But 
Chuck told me that the shower was alright, the sleep was not. I asked him 
what he meant and he told me to take a shower and he would show me. He just 
sat there at the kitchen table-we were living in my place; it turned out he 
didn't own a house or anything-and he just stared at me undressing. I told 
him not to watch, but that didn't make any difference to him. He kept 
looking at me. Finally, I went into the bathroom wearing my underwear. 

"I checked myself out in the mirror, just to be sure I was still in one 
piece. I guess I was nineteen or twenty at the time. Let's see, if I got 
married for a year when I was seventeen, and then for a year when I was 
eighteen.. . yup, I was nineteen. Anyhow, I was happy with my inspection to 
discover that everything was in order. My titties were firm, my nipples were 
cherry-colored and upright and ready for sex at all times. My cunt was 
leaking a little ooze, just in case, and my fanny was as tight as on the day 
I was born. My legs were long, shapely, smooth. Who could ask for more? 

"I climbed over the edge of the tub and went right to work scrubbing myself 
down with soap and water. I was dead tired and the shower was working 
wonders on my flesh. Pretty soon I felt a friendly little chill starting up 
between my loins, nothing spectacular, just a reminder of what was possible 
were I not so fagged from work. But the water and the soap all got together 
and kind of conspired against me, or with me, or whatever you want to say. I 
found myself unable to resist the temptation to go sliding a finger up and 
down across my little clitoris. I had to rub myself hard. It didn't take 
long, and that thing was upright, ready for fucking with. I pinched it off, 
even in the downpour from the hot spraying shower water, and pretty soon I 
was huffing and puffing and ready to blow just about every cock in the 
building. I cried out for Chuck to come into the shower and give me a taste 
of his thing. 

"Well, he came in there alright, and he got undressed, but he was carrying 
something with him. He had it over his shoulder. It looked like one of those 
grey hound harnesses that they use at the dog races. It was made out of 
leather and metal studs. He brought it with him into the shower. I asked him 
what that thing was for, but he didn't answer. He just leaned forward and 
put his face close to mine and said: 'I want to make you my slave.' 

"I got chills even though I wasn't cold. I couldn't figure out what he was 
thinking on to be talking that way. I reached down between his legs, though, 
because I knew for sure what I wanted from him. I got a hold on his 
developing boner and took to rubbing it with slippery soap and water. My 
fingers were everywhere at once, massaging the tip, rubbing at the base, 
working his tender loins and sliding up and down between his buns every now 
and again just to add spice. 

"Suddenly, as if from nowhere, he pulled out that leather contraption and 
wrapped it around my neck and shoulders. At first I didn't mind because I 
was enjoying myself on his joint. I was getting that big mea even thicker 
than God thought it could be made, and was getting the head as puffy as the 
Devil's spear. I was going to be one hell of a good rubbing, as far as was 
concerned, and yet, Chuck was still intent on playing with this leather 
thing. 

"He had the halter over my bare wet shoulders and he was getting the straps 
which wrapped around my chest into place. He tied them off in silver buckle 
which clasped to the back of the thing. He did this b reaching around behind 
me while I continued to work on his tender boner. 'Chuck,' I asked him, 'you 
thin you really need to use this leather brace on me?' He just laughed or 
something, and then stroked a ham down around my buns. He'd finished lacing 
up the to part of that ugly binding piece of leather. 

"My titties felt the pinch of the straps. One boob was flopping 
uncomfortably over the strap below it. I asked Chuck if he couldn't adjust 
that piece of the thing so that I would be a little more at ease. He laughed 
am said that he didn't think that I really understood the purpose of such a 
leather machine. I told him that I supposed I didn't understand the purpose 
but that given a chance I would be glad to try it out. He reached behind me 
and shut down the water. He told me that very shortly I would have such a 
chance. 

"I don't know why-I was giving him a nice friendly hand-job-he pulled away 
from me and stepped out over the tub. When he did that my titties hurt more 
from the straps which bound them on top and bottom. 

" 'Watch it!" I exclaimed at him, and I reached out and grabbed that piece 
of the leather halter which extended from between my two titties and was 
held by Chuck's pulling fist. I grabbed onto the leather, so as to slacken 
its leash like effect, and said: 'You'll hurt me if you're not careful.' 
Chuck snorted at me, slapped my hands away from the piece of binding 
leather, and pulled on it again. That choker strap yanked a pinch into my 
titties that I will never forget. Suddenly, I knew what he had meant when he 
said he was going to make me his slave. He'd done it, and the whole idea was 
tied up with pain. 

" 'Oh, God, no!' I hollered but it was too late. He pulled on the choker and 
I had no choice but to follow him. He led me, like the monkey grinder leads 
that poor unfortunate little ape, over the side of the tub, out of the 
bathroom and into our small livingroom. He made me go in a circle by jerking 
the choker strap every time I didn't follow him just the way he wanted me 
to. Doctor, I can't tell you how frightened I was. And then I realized that 
there was still one other set of straps dangling from the main leash, 
another second half of the halter which remained unattached to whatever part 
of my body it was presumably designed for. I couldn't believe my eyes. 

"Meanwhile, Chuck was laughing and snorting directions at me. 'Stand up, sit 
down, crawl, laugh, cry, bend over, give me head ...' It didn't matter what 
he said. I had to do it or suffer the consequences. He knew just how to 
control me, how to make that leash hurt me without leaving a mark, how to 
make me suffer and then appreciate him for letting me out of the painful 
grip of that tight harness. I was, slowly but surely, becoming my husband's 
servant, his dutiful slave. 

"He made me lay down in the bedroom. I wasn't, at first, so afraid of what 
he would do to me in there. He tied the back of the halter to the head of 
the bed. I was stretched wide open at the legs, and it was then that I 
discovered the purpose of that formerly unattached section of the leather 
contraption. It's sole function was to tie my legs open, to spread my smooth 
loins, to keep my twat at bay for Chuck's use in whatever fashion he might 
see fit. I was to be at his beck and call. That was the method of this 
slavery business. I started to scream and no sooner had my mouth opened when 
a large gauze ball, the size of a baseball, was slammed into my open face. I 
couldn't believe that my new husband had thought of everything, all the way 
down to the gag. 

"There I was: nude, gagged, bound, tied open, my twat clamped back at the 
lips, my titties held in place. I operated about as much on my own free will 
as the turkey on a Thanks Giving Dinner table. All that was needed was the 
Candied Apple, and I had a hunch that my new husband was preparing to supply 
me with something similar. 

"I looked to my right and he was sitting in a chair staring at me. He was 
looking first at my feet, which were spread and attached to the bed posts at 
the foot of the bed. He was scanning upwards along the sides of my long 
comely thighs. He was inspecting my captured hips, my open twat, my smooth 
belly and my upright breasts. He was looking at me like a voyeur. This 
obviously, was a side of the Chuck I met at the cafe, which I had never seen 
before. It was a hideous, fearful thing for me to look on my naked drooling 
husband and discover that he had no interest in getting me hot by fucking 
me, but that his real method was in tying me up and making me his slave, 
making him my master. 

"If my intuited notion of the matter was not enough for my already 
psyched-out brain, then the sight of him rubbing his prick up and down with 
his own hands while he stared with a glaze over his eyes at my strapped and 
bound and suffering flesh-that was enough of a vision to convince me that I 
was in some kind of trouble. 

"But it wasn't enough to realize that I was in trouble. I had to use my 
instincts to get out of trouble. I was bound and couldn't move. I was tied 
up and unable to do anything except think and breathe. I couldn't even 
wiggle my toes without calling attention to the fact that I was bound around 
my breasts. Everything was attached to everything else. If I struggled with 
my right hand, the strap binding my left loin impinged on my flesh. It was a 
terrifying bind to be in, one that I doubted I would exit without damage to 
my body. But I had to try. 

"First I made noises through the gauze gag. I hoped to get Chuck's 
attention, and finally I did: He came over and made me promise that I 
wouldn't utter a sound if he took the gag out of my mouth. I nodded and he 
removed that suffocating rag from inside my face. Oh, God, what a relief 
that was. I felt like I was halfway free of this terrible bondage already. 

"He explained his plans to me. He intended to tickle me with his fingers in 
my pussy. He wanted to feel me gush from prestidigitation. Then he was going 
to jam his own flesh wand up inside me and make me cum again. Finally, if I 
was still in my right mind after that, he was going to turn the entire 
leather apparatus over, including me, and attack my asshole with his sturdy 
flesh prong. It would be for him the third assault, and if the cuming up my 
anus didn't convince me who was boss, then he would pull out a dildo and 
literally shake some sense into my body. Following that vibratory 
masturbation, he planned to use a whip on me, a long leather whip which at 
the handle had the thickness of a billy club and at the cracking end was 
about the size of a needle. I was quite scared of all of the things he had 
in mind, especially the last. But to make things work out for my best 
advantage I pretended that this was the treatment I had long been waiting 
for. 

"You're surprised, Doctor? It was my only chance for escape. I told my crazy 
husband I was beginning to think he would never get around to tying me up, 
that he was not the man, I feared, I thought he was. I told him, even as he 
drew out the whip which he must have hidden under the bed weeks before, that 
I had been considering leaving him and that now, now that he had shown me 
what I wanted to see, now I knew that we would be living happily ever after 
with one another. Finally, I begged him, begged him with all the heart-felt 
sadness I could conjure up with my voice alone, prayed and begged of him 
that he would begin not with the easy and pleasurable frontal attack, but 
rather that he would inject my anus with his sword of vengeance, that he 
would begin by turning me over and firing up his wand inside my asshole. 
Then, I boldly suggested, I wanted THE WHIP! For only that lovely black 
leather tool and strap-tail could possibly give me the ultimate pleasure, 
the final pain, the perfect ecstasy for which my soul craved. I pleaded with 
him, begged and pleaded, Doctor, that he turn me over, twist me upside down 
and make me with his pecker in my asshole and then shove it in again and 
again, and following that, that he stroke me within an inch of my life by 
whipping me with his beautiful tool-strap. 

"He was, to say the least, dumbfounded. He stood there not believing his 
eyes, I'm sure, or his ears. For his young wife was begging him for exactly 
the kind of thing he wanted, longed to give her. He didn't know whether to 
fall down on his knees and cry, or to start whipping me for being such an 
out and out liar. He couldn't tell if I was giving him a line or what. I 
would have cracked up, started laughing, if my life had not been in danger. 
Finally, he decided. He came over by my face and sat down on the bed. His 
boner was only inches from my mouth. He told me that at long last he had met 
a woman he could love. He started undoing my bonds so that he could turn me 
over and whip the shit out of me. He undid my hands first and then started 
on my feet. When both sets of my limbs were free to move, he looked up. 

"Imagine the startled expression on that poor dumb beast's face when he saw 
that I held a silver pistol, a thirty-eight, which I had fetched from behind 
the books on the bookshelf directly above my head. My second husband, a 
paranoiac, had kept it there. I cocked the hammer back with my thumb to make 
Chuck deadly aware that I meant business. He stood off and away from the bed 
and I through off what remained attached of that ghastly leather harness. 

"Chuck stammered at me: 'But I thought ... I thought you were.. .You bitch. 
. . You fucking asshole bitch.. . It's because of women like you that I am 
the way I am, that I get off on... You fucking whore...' And so forth. He 
carried on that way as I kept the silver pistol aimed at him and dressed 
casually as if I were going for a mere stroll on the pier. 

"It was a half-hour later that the police brought me here to talk to you. 
Here's the gun. You can have it now. Now that I've told you the story you 
can take the gun from me. I hope you won't think, even for a minute, that I 
have any intention of going back to my third husband. If you like, however, 
I'll tell you the story of my other two marriages, about how..." 

CASE NUMBER SIX: Cordelia L. 

"I married an artist, Doctor. God save me! 

"He thinks that I'm a tramp, a lowly prairie rat of some sort. The morning 
when he wakes and doesn't kick me, doesn't brutalize my body-on that day I 
celebrate. 

"Some women envy me my husband. I would give anything for divorce. Do you 
know that you are the third psychiatraist I have seen, all of you coming to 
the same conclusion every time: leave the man. But I can't, good Doctor. I 
just can't. Maybe it's the shape of his bone, or the size of his balls-those 
big rock hard nuggets of his. Or maybe it's the way he uses his cock and 
balls to make me happy. Do you know that no other man fucked me ever the way 
this husband of mine does? And I have had limitless experience, Doctor! 
Absolutely limitless! 

"Thanks to my father who was often changing jobs and seldom prone to living 
in only one country at a time, I experienced the hot cocks of the French, 
the thick wet lips of the Japanese, the splendid rigid muscles of the 
German. I have been held in the arms of a Lebanese man who went out to kill 
dozens after stabbing me with his meat, and I have been eaten out by the 
Swedish bar keep who only knew me for five minutes before telling me that he 
was willing to leave his wife and children. I have been around, Doctor, even 
though I am only twenty-two years old, and I know the difference between a 
good muscled bird flying up my tunnel and a one-winged wounded sparrow. And 
my artist husband-he is, as they say in the Southwest, A REAL STUD! 

"I love to have that meat of his sandwiched between my two wet twat lips. Do 
you know what I mean? He doesn't just put it in there, either. He slides it 
down my holster, into the flesh sheath, the way a nobleman places his sword 
in its proper wrack. He gently, but steadily presses the blade of that 
marvellous honed piece of flesh into my pelvic slipper. It is a graceful 
filling up of my body, and I love him a thousand times more upon the second 
stroke. 

"I could tell you about how he holds me in his arms. 

He presses his hands down around my buns, my globular cheeks, and he rubs a 
finger up into my asshole. I loved the feel of that digit pressing my tube 
open and closed. It was made for a finger such as my artist-husband is 
willing to provide. (Did I tell you that his name was Peter? That he was 
American and lived many years in France? That he paints like another 
Picasso? Well, it makes no difference, really. It is all irrelevant. I love 
him just for the way he fucks. His brain, his fingers and the brushes they 
toss about-unimportant when compared with the way he socks his muscle down 
my-hole. That is what really counts, and that is why I am with Peter at 
all!) 

"Anyhow, where was I? Oh, yes, the matter of his finger stuffing my anus. He 
does that with the same degree of perfection that a lithographer inscribes 
the swirl on a plate for a thousand dollar bill. He is a perfectionist and 
he does so without trying. It comes natural for him to be the most 
extraordinary lover I have ever met. To have this man eyeball my legs is 
enough to start up my clit juice pump. To feel his glance upon the small of 
my back is to go into a tizzy, a swoon, a veritable faint. He strokes as he 
looks, he loves as he glances. He is an artist and you feel his eyes the way 
you feel some men's tongues or fingers. His pierce, this stab-it comes as 
much from his gaze as it does from his powerful penis. 

"Perhaps you think that I am describing a very strange medly of a man's 
character attributes. But let me be clear: as much as Peter is able to 
satisfy, to be gentle with his jumbo joint-multiplied by a hundred thousand, 
that is his ability to be the consummate sadist, the ultimate fiend! I fear 
no man more than this, my loving husband. Here, inspect his picture, Doctor. 
Look at him and see if you don't see in those dark eyes and that jet black 
hair the figure of a countenance gone awry. Is he not Satan himself? Can't 
you see him pitching the fork into my body and twisting it until I am forced 
to cradle Death in my arms. rather than live on in a hopelessly painful 
Life? Look at his jaw, the sharp edged flesh of that figure, the cut of his 
teeth, the way they chisel down to a fine, razor sharp edge. You think I 
imagine it? You think, I have conjured up a phantom of some sort. 

"Here, look here! At my leg! Do you see that scar on my otherwise perfectly 
molded finely carved thigh? Do you know how a browned and comely leg such as 
this came to be marred by such a thick raised piece of shiny flesh as that 
scar there? Well, let me tell you. .. it's not so long ago as I would have 
forgotten the details of that bloody afternoon, as though I might ever 
forget the way Peter treated me that day.. . 

"... Peter had checked us in at a motel off the main drag. It was a 
sumptuous place, to be paid for by his most recent patron, a Mrs. 'X', for 
the sake of discretion. Mrs. X., however, did not know of Peter's recent 
marriage, and he had forestalled informing her despite my warnings 
otherwise. Now, as we made ourselves comfortable in the luxurious linen 
supplied by the motel, I wondered if it wasn't a mistake to be here without 
having told the lovely lady of Peter's real and married status. We were, for 
the first time, in her city, hertofor Peter having been known only by his 
paintings, the patron Mrs. X known only by her checks. 

"But I pushed this weighty guilt and fear of the obvious out of my brain and 
reached down between Peter's spread loins. He always likes a little header 
on arrival in a foreign city, and I was happy to provide him with my best. I 
approached that hearty muscle of his with my lips wide open, my tongue 
flailing like a hungry lizard's. It took but an instant to bring my artist 
husband's rod to a full and meaty erection. From then on I performed what 
some women call a chore and what I call the delight of the afternoon. I 
rubbed my tongue up and down across that stiff and tasty rod. I worked on 
the crowning glory, the stiff shaft, the very root itself. I joined myself 
to that muscle the way oil joins itself to a heated pan. I worked my face up 
and down in a steady sucking motion that could not be beat for vacuum power. 
I enjoyed myself and gave Peter all the tongue thrashing that huge muscle of 
his could possibly use. If ever a bird were ready to fly, it was that 
mammouth horn-toothed, bat-winged, arrow-headed mushroom cloud of flesh 
which stuck forthright and featherless from Peter's crotch. I dared him to 
go solo into mia tunnel! 

"Like a crotchety old woman, he rolled me over onto my backside and prepared 
my channel for a fully-rigged vessel. He licked me into a delicious foamy 
lather by concentrating his efforts on that twitching midget rod of flesh, 
my clitoris. He licked the slippery knob into ecstasy and then some, and 
then he went zinging his lips around it, sucking it so steadily into his 
face that I hardly dared to breathe for fear I would lose out on one of the 
best cunnilingus jobs ever. Jesus, he knew how to make a woman bleed clit 
juice! 

"Soon I began to huffing and puffing and rolling my hips up and down in his 
mouth. I couldn't keep from slinging my twat in his face. I wanted that 
tongue of his to drill my hole full of hot flesh. I wanted to feel the lusty 
sensuous chills which accompanied a full-bodied adult orgasm. I wanted my 
legs to shake, my buns to scorch the sheets (That hot!), and I wanted to 
feel Peter's pecker piercing my pussy, penetrating and pulsing and 
palpitating me into a heady, applause worth climax. I nearly leapt onto his 
body in order to get it. 

"But before I was half way up his torso, he shoved me down, hard, pressed me 
onto my back and crammed his rod into my hole. Instead of me mounting him, 
he was stabbing me, whipping me with his joint, stuffing me full of hot cock 
and making me cum and cum. It was a quick zesty orgasm, the kind of grind 
that makes a woman think twice about wanting to be anything other than a 
woman. I'd lick his boots to get that kind of loving. Do you hear me, 
Doctor? I'd shine his heels with my tongue in order to have that pecker of 
his slammed up my hole that way. I'd do anything he asked me to, including 
polish his knob, put a sheen on his buns, press his sphincter with my 
tongue, eat his bunghole for a year and a half, wash my hands in his 
urine-anything and everything-I'd do it all just to get my cunt filled up 
with that twat-twitcher of his. It was that good of a meat, that hot a 
fucking... 

"Well, one thing leads to another, eh? And before I knew it Peter was 
rubbing that steel spike of his into my bunghole. I don't know how it 
happened, but before I could even think about protesting the fact, Peter's 
meat was sliding like a bulldozer down the side of a hill into my rear 
orifice. Every inch of flesh which he passed over was left raw and tender 
even before he'd fully penetrated to the depths of my ass flesh. When my 
bowels began to itch with the feel of his mushroom head expanding in them, 
then I knew that Peter, my husband, had fully perforated that gorge in my 
rear end. 

"I screamed and hollered and yelled and hooted, but all of that was no 
avail. He'd punctured me, and that was only the first of the day's agenda. 
Now he wanted to throb off in there, to make me cum with ecstasy, or more 
importantly, to make himself cum as best he could. I gave him my all, even 
though I didn't think it was called over, and began a long, slow squeeze. My 
interior bunghole flesh wrapped around his joint and pressed from all 
attitudes. I pulled and stroked with my hitching hips. I rubbed and caressed 
and finally, with a singularly final flick of my hips, I pulled that Roman 
Candle Cornhole Cock into ecstasy, and out of it came a second healthy 
spurting wad of hot jism juice which he spread out around the insides of my 
back cave. Jesus, I was so fucking hot... 

"Well, once he had yanked that pole out of there, out of my ass flesh, I 
felt like I should take a shower or something. But more than that, I felt 
like I was on the verge of a hot climax and that he should finish me off. I 
told him that, but Peter was of a mind of his own in these things, and he 
had no desire to go flicking on my clit if he himself wasn't needy of some 
sort of sexual stimulation. So it was he showered, and I lay back in bed 
with my big knockers hot and steamy, my cunt hole ready for the big dramatic 
juicy climax, and I fingered myself, poked and rubbed and flicked my clit 
until finally that super-charge of electric sexual energy went racing 
through my loins and up and down the insides of my cave, giving me the final 
necessary ecstasy. I throbbed in delight, flopped my little hips like a 
child just finishing off some new dance, like the hustle, and lay back in a 
satin sweat, a cloud of ecstasy, adrift with my sensuous satisfied dreams . 
.. 

"It wasn't long after that there was knocking at the motel room door. Well, 
you don't have to be a soothsayer to guess that it was Mrs. X, the patron of 
Peter's art, rapping at our chamber door. I hesitated before answering and 
looked to the steamy bathroom door before opening the latch at the door on 
the opposite side of the room. I was wearing a silky housecoat, one which 
showed off my legs and the tops of my blood-red blushing boobs. Standing 
framed in the door, her breasts exposed by the low cut of her v-necked silky 
white dress, her stature akimbo, and the dress cut off at the thighs-she 
too, I supposed, wished to display her earthy wares-and her heels as stacked 
as she herself, she addressed me in a righteous tone, shrill enough to 
shatter glass, and raised her brightj eyebrow as she did: 'Is Peter here?' 
She took to plucking her glove finger by finger from her hand and added as 
haughty as can be, 'He is expecting me, I dare say,' and she looked up to 
see if I'd begun to run round the room, as her voice would have implied 
necessary, to search for Peter, to find him and bring him forward so that he 
could give homage to the woman who'd so kindly footed the tab. Needless to 
say, I didn't budge. 'You can hear the shower?' I asked in as peasant-like a 
demeanor as I could manage. 'Well, Peter's in it,' and I hauled back my 
pelvis and pointed the way to where the rolling clouds of steam poured from 
the open bathroom door along with the sound of a rainy shower within. Mrs. X 
smiled and strutted by. 

"She peeked her head around the corner of the bathroom door, lifted one 
heeled foot upwards behind herself, and leaned half her stolled body around 
behind the door so as to be able to see, I take it, Peter's most private 
parts. 'Peter, darling,' she extolled him, 'don't you think you might come 
out and say hello?' She reached one hand out of my sight and into the 
bathroom so that I could not see exactly what chore she performed, but a 
moment later the rest of her body disappeared from sight with a slight and 
whispy screech. The bathroom door slammed shut and I was left alone in that 
most dreadful motel room. I could only imagine to what prodigious ends and 
in what orifice Peter was presently driving his fresh nail. 

"From the sounds of things however, from the bellowing which emanated from 
that tiled hollow, I calculated that as with myself he had strapped down the 
lovely lady Mrs. X and shoved his highly erotic muscle into her bunghole. In 
another moment-I counted the jealous seconds-he'd have done with her, would 
have performed the service required by Mrs. X and her needed patronage, and 
he'd never give her a second thought. I was his wife and I knew. 

"To the second, as I clocked off the interval, she exited the bathroom with 
her flaxen hair a mess equal to any quail's wooly home, and her clothes all 
disheveled like she'd just been through a cyclone, and she attempted to 
strut, as casually as she'd entered, her way out of the place. But her high 
heel on her left shoe snagged a portion of the Persian carpet thrown beside 
the bed and sent Mrs. X for a nasty tumble. I sat somewhat beside myself 
with joy and snickering, unable to keep from laughing aloud, unable even to 
come to her aid. A moment later she shouted at me and at Peter-it was really 
not his doing-'I'm cancelling all aid to you, you filthy heathen pig, and as 
for you,' and she pulled back one of her ritzy diamond studded hands, in an 
effort to bat me like a fly, and again she fell down on her hands and knees. 
I grabbed the carpet at one corner and dragged it and the former Peter 
patron to the motel door. I stood behind her and watched her used fanny 
wiggle as she searched here and there in the fabric of the carpet for some 
missing stone or something, and then, when I was quite sure she was more or 
less together, I gave her a shove with my bare foot on her skirted fanny and 
sent her packing out the door. 'And don't come back,' I said. 'Please?' 

"I slammed the door in her besmirched face and thought for sure that Peter 
would be delighted with my performance. But when I turned around and looked 
at the bathroom door, he stood there with as cold a look in his eyes as ever 
I've known the man to bear. 'But Peter,' I begged prematurely, 'don't you 
understand? She insulted us! She caused us pain for no reason! She acted 
like a heathen!' I couldn't believe that he would even consider punishing me 
for having booted that flaxen tart out the motel room door. 

"Momentarily, the phone started ringing. It was the manager of the motel 
informing us that he thought we should know that if we wished to stay on, as 
he no doubt presumed we would, we would necessarily- Mrs. X had made it 
'necessarily'-be paying our own way; he wondered if either Peter or myself 
would be so kind as to come downstairs and sign the register again, this 
time indicating the new responsible party. I clicked off after telling him 
that I would be down shortly. 

"But when I had returned the phone to the cradle, Peter was upon me, and he 
was naked, his steely blue eyes boring through my forehead, and he was 
taking me in his arms and holding my face only inches from that deadly 
glare: 'Why, you bitch, do you dare to interfere in my business? Why do you 
come around and make things so incredibly difficult for me?' He took one 
hand from my upper arm where he'd clasped me so tightly as to leave welts, 
and he smacked me across the face. He whacked me as hard as he could and my 
jaw shook like a bowl of jelly in an earthquake. When my field of vision 
stopped rattling, and when I could once again see clearly, I told Peter that 
compared to Mrs. X he was a monster. He smacked me again across the face, 
this time sending me teetering onto the mattress where I fell flat on my 
face. He ripped the kimona housecoat off my back and thrust his stiffened 
meat into my bowels for a second time that afternoon. It was hot as a fiery 
branding iron, and the scalding mushroom head went slamming into my lower 
body like a sterilized scalpel, cutting me, opening me for whatever torments 
he wished to perpetrate. In that one instant, for the first time in my life, 
I actually hated my artist husband. 

"I reached out. My hand happened on the lamp. I grabbed it and broke it over 
the side of the end table which had a moment before been its pedestal. I 
took the jagged edge, thinking to thrust it backhanded into my husband's 
chest, and thus, while he stroked his burning meat in and out of my bunghole 
I would cut out his heart, and at the instant that I started my desperate 
swatting, Peter grabbed my wrist and took to ramming my hand back down, more 
in line with his own desires. He removed the splintered piece of glass, a 
portion of the base of the lamp, and started to toss it aside. At the last 
minute he decided not to discard the sharp fragment, however, and instead he 
took the jagged end of the thing and rammed it into my thigh. He stroked 
downwards, carving my leg in a steady groove, like a scythe through soft and 
fertile ground, and ripped my flesh. 

"It took the surgeon four hours to sew that wound, and even then he'd only 
done up the cut itself. A nurse, two other physicians and an emergency crew 
saved me from the clutches of a deadly shock, and having thus saved my life, 
carted me from room to room giving me what treatments were necessary for the 
anal orifice which my husband had nearly shredded in his terrible rage. For 
two weeks I lay on my belly recuperating from that God-awful struggle with 
my husband, the artist, and it was not, good Doctor, without some dread and 
a large amount of remorse that at the end of that fortnight I chose to 
return to live, once again, with that madman Peter. Had I any real sense, 
I'm quite sure that I'd have filed divorce papers, sued for cruelty and 
damages, and attempted, with some sort of weapon, to do him in the way he 
did me in. 

"But I did no such thing. As I said, that was some time ago. He gave me to 
believe, oh, so many times, that I would have better things in store for me, 
that he would soon be caring for me in the tenderest fashion. Leading me 
down some primrose garden path, he taught me to trust him in the worst way 
imaginable. I would, every dawn, rise to give him a good sucking and he 
would tell me in that first moment of the day that I lived only to jack him 
off, only to make him a sexually healthy man. By noon he would have me 
promising him a ream out in his asshole, and by dinner time I would have, 
while Peter painted masterpiece after masterpiece, cried and sobbed to 
myself no less than a dozen times. I couldn't figure out how it was that he 
managed to get such an incredible performance out of my body. 

"If it was sucking he was wanting, I gave him the best head he could 
possibly have. I licked his rod, tongued his balls, ate out his asshole. If 
he wanted screwing, I gave him the inside of my twat. I chewed his joint 
with tender pussy muscles, with cunt flesh that few men know exist. I kissed 
his buttocks, warmed his tender muscled loins with my own breasts, and I 
gave him as often as possible, access to my anus. There was no sexual chore 
that I, the great artist's willing slave, would not perform. I was and am 
his alone. 

"Do you know what this means, Doctor? If another woman sees a man she 
desires, happens to know that she can have him and even has the opportunity, 
she thinks twice, and then she jumps ahead, into bed, into his arms, there 
to enjoy a temporary respite from the boredom of marriage. 

"For me it is completely different. If I see such a man, it is generally a 
friend of Peter's. The man knows what will happen to me if I so much as look 
askance in Peter's presence. If I should find the opportunity to make eyes 
at the fellow, and Peter does not discover it, the man himself may very well 
fear what retaliatory measures Peter will take. On one occasion, though it 
appeared to be by accident, Peter gouged out the right eyeball of a man who 
glanced-GLANCED is all he did, Doctor-in my direction. He peeled the man's 
lid from his face and with it he took the eye below. It was not a pretty 
sight. 

"And let us say that I have eyes for a man and we manage to get together in 
some remote place and share our bodies with one another. Do you think there 
is a man with a bird of flesh as powerful, as able to fly successfully 
through my tunnel as Peter? Do you think even for a minute there is a man 
alive who can give my little wingless twat a feathery feel the way my artist 
lover can? No, Doctor, unlike other women I must be forever constant to my 
husband. - 

"There was a time, however, when he had the nerve to pick up a younger 
woman. She was a teenager, some sort of hooker with a bent on getting the 
artist type into her repertoire of customers. Well, Peter went for her, for 
this nubile nymphet, and he did it right in front of my own eyes. But the 
way he did it was this: he wanted to have her for himself, but he used me to 
get her. Do you see what I mean? He picked her up and told her that her 
chore was to make me happy, to satisfy my secret Lesbian desires and then, 
while the child went mercilessly to work on my clit, sucking me off and 
rubbing her titties up and down on my thighs, Peter looked on and enjoyed 
himself. 

"I remember the exact moment at which he turned from our loving embrace, 
took off his clothes with his back to us and then turned around and grabbed 
the child around the shoulders and pulled her up and off of my body. He took 
her alongside me so that I had no choice but to watch as he tossed his spear 
in and out of that little whore's splendid oily snatch. Her clit lubricated 
with just the touch of his penis to her body. What woman's body would not? 
That big member went crawling up her hole like a rodent, like a gopher 
running from a snake. He snatched out of her bush a tasty morsel of hot ass 
flesh while his hands pawed the backside of the child's smooth round cheeks. 
He tacked her down, drove his stiff animal nail deep into her flesh and let 
her squirm, impaled and screaming, on his stiff rod. She spread her legs and 
bounced around on his tough member. 

"Jesus, I'll never forget the sight of that big chest babe having got for 
herself more of a meat stick than any of her customers had ever paid to have 
serviced. Peter's stinger banged away, filling her child's twat with more 
hearty meat than she knew what to do with. She rocked and rolled on that 
long thing. She attempted to make the head explode. She wrapped her arms 
around his back and searched out his ass cheeks. She did everything in 
nature to make him cum in order to relieve herself of the tremendous 
pressures his cock muscle brought to bear inside her cunt. There was no way 
out of the electric charging that Peter earmarked for that child. He didn't 
let her go until she had screamed bloody murder, until she'd climaxed 
several times in a row, until she sweated a satin sweat and blushed a 
blood-red crimson. She was exhausted, spent, and, finally, abandoned in a 
heap of hot wet flesh. He literally rolled her off the bed. 

"I snickered at him and asked how he liked robbing the cradle, and he 
snorted back, 'I paid dear for that fuck, loved one, almost as dear as I 
paid for you!' His quick tongue, were I armed at that moment, would have 
cost him his life. As it was I went for his face with my nails. He grabbed 
both my wrists, though, and bending my hands backwards behind my neck he 
forced me down under him. His nail was still stiff and steely and he took 
advantage of the fact that the whore's tongue had left me hot and moist. He 
rammed his cockshaft into my channel and rode me down flat until his pelvis 
went flush with my pelvis, until his legs forced my loins completely wide 
open. I could feel the heady mushroom head of his muscled bird flying 
against the insides of my tube, and there was clearly no way to stop that 
massive tool from doing its dirty work inside my body. I wanted to beg off, 
but a moment later I was cuming all over him, cuming and wondering if there 
was ever any escape. 

"On another occasion-this time we were alone-he arranged what I thought 
would be a nice day of sunbathing. He took me up on the roof of his studio. 
Overhanging the roof was a vine of some sort and he took some of the old 
stringy roots of that tree and wrapped my naked ankles in the stuff. He tied 
up my wrists, bound me to the roof of the house and waited until I had baked 
somewhat. I was, as he had instructed me to be, completely nude. 

"When I had a semblance of a sunburn he began stroking me, at first mildly 
and then more stridently, with a stiffer portion of the vine. He literally 
whipped me with that branch, struck me several times in a row with it until 
my body showed all sorts of welts. Then he lay down along side me, Doctor, 
pretended to comfort me, and finally he stroked my face open so that he 
could work his big tool into range of my tongue. It was that, a blow job 
while I was tied up, that he had wanted all along. I had no choice. 

"I tongued the root of his muscle, kissed his balls, licked the stiff and 
spongy head. I swabbed the mushroom crown and sucked off the tip. It wasn't 
long after that when I had taken the whole cap into my mouth and started 
rubbing my lips back and forth across it. I wanted to make sure, you see, 
that he was pleased, for I knew that if I did not do an adequate job of 
sucking, he would certainly continue to beat me. It was my only chance for 
freedom. But really, in the back of my mind I knew that regardless of my 
performance he would, most likely with relish, beat me again. Yet, for some 
reason or other-perhaps it was the hot sun, the clear blue sky, or perhaps 
it was the shape of his mighty rod-for some reason I continued to suck off 
that huge pole. It wasn't long before he blasted off in my face, shooting 
juice down my throat, forcing me to gobble up his cum or drown. What choice, 
really, did I have? 

"An hour later, after passing out with the jism dripping down my lips, I 
came to. I was still tied, but I was able, in my less frenetic state of mind 
and without Peter present to push me down if I tried to get up, to loosen 
the bonds around my wrists, then around my ankles. It was a heavenly 
pleasure to be free for a moment from the artist's cruel and sadistic 
behavior. He was inside creating, I believe, making another painting which 
would, only a month later in the year, sell for no less than fifty-five 
thousand dollars.. . 

"I wonder sometimes if it's worth it. After all, I get no recompense from 
all the sexual abuse heaped on my body by that man. I am, it's true, greatly 
satisfied by his fuck-rod when he uses it in my cunt. But think of what I 
must put up with in order to gain access to that one or two moments of 
pleasure every other day. Is it worth it, Doctor? 

'The other morning I was shoved out of bed and told to beg for his joint. I 
begged and I got his pecker crammed into my face. I rolled my tongue across 
the head of that meat as if it were my one and only desire. Really, I was 
thinking about chicken soup and how nice a cup of it would be. And yet, on 
my face a look of passion glowed and heated up Peter's pelvis. I was no more 
interested at six o'clock in the morning in sucking him off than I was in 
getting to the church on time on Sunday's. It was irrelevant to me. Yet I 
gave him all the header he could use because I knew that he had a long hard 
day of creating ahead of him, a long hard day of sending his brush in the 
madman contortions which would make another masterful painting for the 
world. Sometimes, Doctor, I think that it is I, Cordelia Lear who paint the 
world in all its glory and not my husband who feigns normality. 

"I know for sure that one thing is true: he is polymorphous perverse. 
Artist, yes. But perverse in every way, yes to that too! He knows no limits 
when it comes to sexuality. He would just as soon scold me with his foot, 
kick me in the ribs as he would ram his cock muscle up my asshole or shove 
that mushroom headed pecker into my pussy. It makes no difference to him, 
and all sex is tempered, in his brush, by this even handed interest. My 
twat, my ass flesh, my mouth, my arm pit, my big toe, the third finger on my 
left hand, the fifth vertebra in my delicate female spine-they are all the 
same to him, and he would as soon eat my cunt as cantaloupe. It doesn't 
matter at all... 

"You begin to think I'm mad, eh, Doctor? Well, let me tell you about one 
more time when I had the occasion to witness Peter's orgasm. Perhaps then 
you'll see what I mean about this world famous artist and his incredible 
sexuality. He took a twelve year old girl. 

"Yes, I see by the look on your face, Doctor, that you too have known the 
joys of a child's flesh, that you too would understand Peter's great needs 
... He picked her up in front of a school one day. It was almost by 
accident. He just happened to be there, and the child mistook his car for 
that of her father's. I was in the back seat counting out some cash we'd 
just picked up at the bank before it closed. The child hopped into the car 
as Peter stood stationary at a stop sign. He looked, not the least bit 
concerned at the child who jumped into the car, and then, as she shut the 
door and turned his direction and discovered her error, Peter pulled away 
from the stop sign. 

"She begged him of course to set her free, but he wouldn't do that until 
she'd calmed down and allowed him to get to know her just a little better. 
From then on it was a question of time. He bought the child an ice cream, a 
toy, some comic book, and slowly but surely, over the course of two hours, 
he wormed out of her some sexual truths that the little girl had neglected 
to admit even to herself. 

"She ended with her legs spread and Peter's massive penetrating sword 
sticking her down in the weeds on some God-forsaken hillside in some out of 
the way county where the statutory laws would have been so severe as to 
demand castration for even talking to such a nymphet, and yet somehow, high 
above the city, pinned to the scraggly rock and dirt of that hill, even the 
twelve year old child appeared grateful for what my husband artist did to 
her with his meat... 

"... I don't know why I've told you all of this, Doctor, and really, there 
is no way to end Objectively, except to say that I know for sure I will be 
going back to him now, and I will not be able to leave him for he is such a 
fabulous screw and, and... well, what more is there to say after that?" 

CASE NUMBER SEVEN: Doris L. 

"I know why I married him, Doctor: he has a nice big penis. But I don't know 
why I've let things get the way they are. At first, you know, there wasn't 
anything unusual. But then things seemed to get a little out of hand-I mean 
with sex and all... 

"When we first started going out-that was in high school-Dennis didn't 
expect anything unusual from me. We used to neck in the back seat of his 
car, and I just loved that. The windows would get all steamy and my legs 
would get chilled, especially when he went running his hand up and down my 
thigh. That just used to give me a tingle that I'll never forget! 

"I liked petting, too. The feel of Dennis rubbing his palm on my nipples, 
well, it just about drove me wild. I could hardly control myself when he got 
my caps all goose bumped and everything. It was like being in heaven. My 
little tips would stick right out. I could feel them get hard. It was just 
so much fun. 

"It was only natural that we go on for more. I used to let him finger me. 
That was a nice surprise. Of course, it wasn't completely a surprise. 
Because I used to lay in bed at night sometimes and spread my legs out and 
play with myself. It took me a while to get to know myself. I had to find 
out all the little parts of my hole. I mean the clit and everything. But 
once I did, well, you know I had myself some good times in there ... 

"It didn't take Dennis long at all, though. He knew right where my clit was. 
I'll never forget one Friday night before we were married. We were parked up 
on the hill, in our favorite place, and Dennis got my skirt pulled up around 
my hips and my panties pulled down around my knees. I was getting hot and 
cold all over, at the same time. He had his hand going up and down between 
my legs. I'm not sure if it was the first time for him to go feeling me up 
in there, but if s the one I most remember. He worked his hand up between my 
loins like a fish, a salmon swimming up stream. He just kept coming and 
coming and coming. He didn't stop until he got his finger planted all the 
way down my channel. 

"Then he went rubbing. He went sliding that digit up and down and back and 
forth. He knew just how to make his knuckle catch hold of my clitoris. He 
took me for one of the nicest rides my little twat-cock ever had. It was 
just like taking honey from a beehive. He just knew how to do it. He cooked 
me up something fierce that night. It was like being with a movie star or 
something. I loved it. 

"I'll never forget looking down between my legs and seeing that finger of 
his stroking in and out of my hole. There was this wet clicking sound, the 
noise from his finger sloshing up and down in my wet pussy. My cunt was so 
hot and steamy that you could have fried clams in there! It was that good! 

"Well, when I saw that, his finger, and the way it was making me so sexy and 
lusty and all, I could hardly keep from asking him for the real thing. He 
told me that I would have to rub him up good first. I did that. I slid my 
hand down between his legs and started working out on his joint. Plenty of 
times before I had held that thick member of his. I had rubbed him up really 
good. But like he said, 'this time' was going to be special. I made a point 
of being really good to his thing. I rubbed it and used my palm and went up 
and down with my fingers. And I did all of that before it was even naked. I 
did that with his trousers still on ... 

"And when I finally got his pants opened up that big muscled bird of his was 
about ready to go flying. I reached for it, between Denny's hands, which 
were busy working between my legs, and I got hold of the tip. That thing was 
so spongy and red and all! I just couldn't keep from going down on it, even 
if it meant, for the time being, giving up that delightful finger-fucking 
which Denny was giving me in the cunt. I had to take his hands away from my 
pussy so that I could have room enough to go down on his cock. But he didn't 
mind ... 

"I spread his legs and got my hands sliding up and down between his thighs. 
I worked my fingers up around his balls and then got the stalk of his pecker 
in my fist. I'll never forget how that thing filled up my whole palm. I 
squeezed it like it was a baseball bat. Then I cupped it with my lips, the 
head that is, and I got that big mushroom thing sliding around between my 
lips and my tongue. I really got it good, good and wet and slippery. I made 
that spongy boner into a juicy piece of beef steak. Denny knew I loved him 
then. Just from the way I went bouncing my face up and down on the joy 
rod-he just had to know! 

"Anyhow, once I got that pecker rod so stiff and healthy that it was about 
to throb its way right out of his crotch, then I told Denny that I thought 
he should pound away inside me. I didn't say it like that, but he knew for 
sure that that was what I needed ... and he gave me that, too! He got me 
down outside the car. He just dragged me out of the backseat-it was the 
first time for that, too!-and he spread my legs open, without even pulling 
my blouse off, and he jammed that big stiff muscle boner of his all the way 
down my tunnel. He worked it in all the way. 

"I had to lift my legs so that I could get enough of it. It was really 
something. I wasn't a virgin except in the technical sense of having never 
got a meat in there, but 

I didn't have a ribbon or anything. Lost it in gym or something. No, I 
wasn't a virgin that way, but when I felt how good that hog was inside me, 
well, I knew for sure that until that day I hadn't even lived. Oh, God, 
Doctor, just to feel that rubbery spike going sliding down inside me that 
time-it was like the end of the world or something. 

"Dennis, he got his hands cupped around my buns. He pulled me up and back on 
my spine. He tossed that meat into me so deep I thought I was going to be 
nailed to the ground forever. He really crammed more meat into me than I 
thought I could get or use or something. It was just amazing to feel that 
big fleshy spike ramming its way up inside my body. I don't know where he 
got the energy to do it that way. He worked up and down inside me like he 
was a big jackhammer, a big flesh needle. I held onto his buns and could 
feel them getting tight and soft in my hands as he worked up and down on my 
body. It was really nice. Really fucking nice ... 

"Well, of course, he came pretty fast. We were outside and all, and he was 
pretty much turned on, and he let loose with a big spurting wad of hot jism. 
I could feel it go sliding on the back wall of my twat. I kissed him hard on 
the lips while he shot that jism juice into me. It was ecstasy, divine, and 
there's really nothing in the whole world like it. I mean it's one thing to 
give header and to get a big joint up the anus, but it's the best, for me 
anyhow, to feel that muscle banging away and spraying off inside my cunt. 
Nothing else can surpass that pleasure for me! Why, that first time, I 
wasn't even worried the least little bit about getting pregnant. 

"Maybe I should have been worried. Because that's what happened. I got all 
blown up and we had to get married. Not that Dennis and I didn't want to get 
married. It made sense. We were graduating from high school and all. I mean 
why not pick out the one you love and live with him forever, eh? 

"So we did that. Only I didn't know what it would be like. I didn't know 
that Dennis would want to meet other girls and that I would want to meet 
other guys. I thought that first love was the only love. Not so, Doctor. 
Just not so at all! 

"For instance: I hadn't been married for a month when I came home from 
shopping one Saturday afternoon and what did I find in my livingroom but 
Denny's tail, those wild cheeks of his, flying up and down while he was fuel 
injecting "some broad"-he called her that afterwards-who was from down the 
street or something. She'd come "to borrow sugar" or something. Oh, sure, to 
borrow sugar! I could see right there what kind of sugar that bitch wanted. 

"Well, anyhow, once she got shoed out of the house, and once I got things 
settled with Dennis-and by settled I mean that we had a big fight and that 
was that-well, then I realized that there was no way that two seventeen year 
old people were going to just be balling each other. It wasn't natural and I 
had been sort of silly to get all riled about Dennis sticking his needle in 
one other girl. I mean if he wanted to go out and plant a dozen women, that 
would be alright with me. But we were married. It was a kind of a conflict. 
I didn't know what to do. 

"Well, one day about a week later I was getting undressed in front of the 
mirror. Dennis was already asleep in bed. I'd been out late talking with 
some of my girlfriends about what it was like to be married. Of course I 
didn't tell them the true story, about how it was kind of frustrating to see 
all those gorgeous men going by in the world and not being able to lay your 
hands on their balls and their cocks because of that silly diamond ring 
which in my case was just a gold band, and I didn't mention to them about 
how my husband expected me always to have the house as clean and neat as 
Harriet from t.v., and I didn't tell them that I was worried about what it 
was going to be like to have a baby-but I did tell them that I loved getting 
a steady punch! Well, anyhow, I looked at my body, which was getting pretty 
large now with the baby and all, and I decided that if I was lucky I would 
get myself a miscarriage and be done with all of that shit and go out and 
get some real fucking done! 

"And you know what? Not two weeks later that's what happened. The doctor 
told me it was kind of an accident and he was very sympathetic to me. It 
didn't take long for me to recover though, because even though I was going 
to miss-having that baby, I was looking forward to the freedom I was gonna 
have. Now, you see, I could go out like Dennis and make myself some 
interesting people. 

"You know that I had to get myself some new clothes and all. And I did that. 
I got myself some of the neatest 

Honeymoon In Leather looking white shorts-it was still summer after 
graduation-and a nice low cut blouse and I put all of it together in front 
of the mirror one afternoon. I just sort of stood there posing and modeling 
for myself, checking out the way my boobies stuck out when I wore a bra and 
the way they hung when I didn't, and how to hold my hips so I could give a 
good angle on my legs. And pretty soon, I had it down pat. I was ready to go 
out there and hustle up some of the kind of thing ' that those single girls 
get all the time. 

"Naturally, I didn't tell Dennis that I was planning on doing that. I didn't 
want him to have to worry and all. Besides, I knew he was out sowing wild 
oats all the time. One time I found hairs on his shirt, lipstick and all 
that kind of thing. So it wasn't like I was going to be the only one not 
'cherishing' the marriage vows that we had taken just after high school. 

"Well, my first lover, believe it or not, was one of my old teachers. I ran 
into him in the shopping mall. He came up to me and he said right out that 
as long as I I was a student he couldn't talk to me like a girl he'd want to 
date, but now that I was graduated he could really see making some time with 
me. I showed him my wedding ring, but that didn't mean a thing to him. I was 
glad of that. He took me to his apartment that day. Oh, sure, we had coffee 
and lunch and all that, but we both knew right away where we were headed. 
Right into bed! 

"Well, let me tell you, Doctor, that teachers these days have nice big hogs! 
That fellow had one of the nicest joints I ever did lay my hands to! We 
started out just getting naked and me rubbing him down. I loved working on 
his legs and that muscle of his. It was soooo big! I rubbed it with my 
fingers, just the same way I'd have done Denny, only more so. It was so 
exciting to be with another man, just for the change of pace. I took that 
big muscle inside my lips. I sucked on it and licked on it. I chewed away at 
that thing, giving that teacher one of the best mouth rub downs he could 
ever expect. I gave him some very nice header, Doctor, and believe you me, 
he appreciated it. You know how I could tell? By the Way he ate me out! 
That's how! 

"He got down between the lips of my twat, slid his tongue in there and went 
for a mouthful of my pussy that I didn't know I had to give. He took a bite 
out of it. He sucked my clit up between his lips. He used his tongue to rub 
on the tip of my little twat-pecker, and it wasn't long before I had a big 
hard-on-as big as a woman gets-of my own. Oh, boy, did I feel good or did I 
feel good?!! I rocked and rolled in his face. My pussy was everywhere at 
once, and his tongue covered all of that territory and more. He ate me out 
like I'd never had it before. He kind of woke me up to the fact, now that I 
think about it, that there were other men in the world besides my new 
husband. I mean, I knew that and all, but I didn't know what those other men 
could do for me until that teacher got to licking between my legs. Mmmmm, it 
was fine! 

"Well, pretty soon I was leaking like a broken dam. There was juice gushing 
out of my twat and I was huffing and puffing. I told him that I thought it 
was time for him to go sticking that big rod of his into place. He r said 
that he wanted to try something. 

"I thought, 'Oh, sure, why not? So far, everything this guy tries on me is 
terrific...' Well, you can guess the rest. He took out a tube of lubricant 
and had me spread my buns for him. I had to get on my hands and knees to do 
that. I spread out and reached back just the way he said. I took my cheeks 
in my hands and held them open so he could grease my hole. At first 
everything felt terrific. Once my hole was all lubricated and all, he had me 
spread some of that oil on his muscle. I did that with pleasure. That meat 
of his was so big and strong that there wasn't a girl in California who 
wouldn't have enjoyed lubricating him. I did that and then when it was all 
juicy he told me to get back on my hands and knees. I did that, too. He 
lifted up that big thing and put it down between my ass cheeks. At first it 
just sort of rested there, between my two fleshy globes. But then he started 
sliding, slowly but surely, rocking up and down, moving that flesh banana of 
his so that I got a rubbing in my anal crotch. It was nice and slick and I 
thought that everything was going to be easy for the whole thing . .. 

"Then, all of a sudden, he slipped a finger into my anus. I didn't expect 
that, but it didn't kill me either. My sphincter spread out in order to 
accommodate that bony digit of his, but after that everything was pretty 
much the same. I thought again that things were going to be o.k. He went 
worming around in there with his finger until he'd kind of stretched my 
inner tube. 

"Then he hit me with the big gun. I don't know where that cannon came from, 
but all of a sudden it was in- side and pounding, blasting away like a bold 
of lightning. I couldn't believe it! I nearly jumped out of bed. He had a 
grip around me or I would have. I would have just left him behind. I would 
have got out of that bed, dressed myself and went home and never saw that 
guy again. But like I said, he had his hand around my waist and he was 
fingering me, fucking me in the twat with one digit, and he had his other 
hand up between my big knockers which were hanging down, and he was holding 
me at the shoulder. There was no place for me to go. I was in so much pain 
from having my asshole tube stretched like that, but I couldn't move no 
matter how I tried. Jesus, that was an incredible ache. I wonder if I'll 
ever forget how that first anal attack felt. It was so fucking stiff up my 
bunghole! 

"Needless to say, I screamed, hollered, bitched, wailed, swore, cussed, and 
carried on until I nearly fainted, and needless to say, my anal teacher 
didn't stop pointing that stick of his up my asshole until he was ready to 
throb off. He just kept jamming and cramming, and there wasn't anything I 
could do but sweat it out. Finally he shot off and flooded my bunghole with 
hot pudding. I couldn't believe how relieved I felt when he'd finally pulled 
that tube of flesh of his out of my ass. I thought I was going to pass out 
with ecstasy. Well, you can imagine my surprise, though, that I also felt 
empty. Yes, it's true. As soon as that first asshole fuck was over I began 
to regret having complained so much. I don't know why, but I was already 
missing having something like that big boner stuffed up my tube. Jesus, it 
was confusing! 

"Well, a few days later, at home with Dennis, I told him that I kind of 
thought we might try out some new positions. He was wild for it. He stripped 
down and I did the same. We hopped into bed lickety split and I got him hard 
and ready. Then I told him that we needed some lubricant. He said that he 
wondered what kind of experimenting I really wanted to do. I told him that I 
would like it if he would stick something, anything, his finger even, up my 
asshole. I just wanted to see what that was like. Of course, I knew that 
once we got started he would go poking everything, every inch, that is, he 
had, up my asshole. 

"We just happened to have an extra cube of butter laying around, and Dennis 
brought that from the kitchen. He greased my butt cheeks with it. He spread 
that margerine around in my ass crack. The feel of that oily stuff melting 
between my buns gave me a kind of glow all over. I knew that Dennis would 
fit inside me like a glove. I knew that I was going to have an extraordinary 
feel from his boner in my tissue. Sure enough, once I was properly lubed, up 
he went, just the way I was hoping he would. He slammed it right in and I 
went right on up the ecstasy ladder. You see, Doctor, I was discovering my 
true inner anal self. And it was delicious. 

"Just to feel that stiff meat spreading me out back there made me hot. And 
when it started pounding because Dennis was slapping his pelvis against my 
buttocks-well, you can't imagine my sense of delight. That little inner 
rubber band of sphincter flesh was all stretched out and my heart was 
beating about twice as fast as usual. It was pure ecstasy! 

"I rolled my hips and rocked back and forth in order to make sure that Denny 
enjoyed himself. He reached under me and got hold of my titties which was an 
extra special little thrill. He grabbed onto my nipples and gave them a 
little memorable tugging. He was getting the hang of it just as fast as I 
was, maybe even a little faster. Well, as usual, before I knew it, he had 
shot off and was yanking his big mushroom cock head out of my bunghole tube. 
He laid down and huffed and puffed a little to catch his breath. He told me 
that it was tight like a glove and smooth like silk inside me in there 
between my buns, in my anus. I told him I liked to give him that kind of 
pleasure. 

"Well, if it had stopped right there-I mean if we had just stuck to the anal 
sticking-well, then, maybe, just maybe, things would be working out right, 
the way they could have. But we didn't. 

"Here's what happened ... A few days later Dennis came home with a dildo. He 
said he wanted to try that thing out on me. I took a look at it and I 
thought that something that large would be perfect for my twat. I mean, no 
matter how much I was enjoying my anal self, I was still really, deep down 
inside, a better twat fuck than anything else. Always, my first reactions 
would be: 'How will that thing go in my twat?' And of course that's what I 
thought Dennis had in mind with the dildo. 

"Well, we got into bed and he greased me up, front and back, which should 
have been a tip off. But it wasn't. I thought he was just sliding that 
lubricant around between my buns because he got a kick out of feeling up my 
anal crotch. No so, however. 

"His real reason for sticking his fingers and that grease up my buns was 
that he wanted to cram that dildo, which was twice the size of any ordinary 
cock muscle, into my anus. And believe you me, it was a shock and a surprise 
to feel the head of that big rubbery thing go banging down into my ass 
flesh. It really hit hard, Doctor, and I didn't know whether to laugh or 
cry. I was in hysteria, if you know what I mean.. . absolute madness. My 
asshole was just about ready to start bleeding, and I couldn't get out of 
Dennis's hold. He had me pretty tight. I didn't know which way to move. And 
all the time there was the pressure of that huge rubber stick jamming me in 
the buns. I thought for sure I would pass out and that my asshole would cave 
in. 

"But I lived through it, obviously, and Dennis got off -just from slapping 
me with that thing. But he wasn't satisfied with just beating my hole with 
the dildo. The next night he brought home this thing that looked like a 
muzzle for a horse. It was leather and it strapped around my waist, I found 
out later, and it held my cheeks open at the back. Jesus, when he first 
showed me that thing I knew I was in for trouble. Right then I should have 
run for cover, or at least home to my mother ... 

"But no, like the fool that I am, I told him I was willing, because we're 
married and because I consider the sex part of marriage really important, to 
try and make him feel happy, even if it meant doing something like getting 
into a leather contraption. Well, Dennis, once he heard that, he didn't even 
want to eat dinner. It was into the bedroom right then that we had to go. 

"We got naked and I rubbed him up so that he would have a nice boner. 
Believe you me, it didn't take much that night. He was about as hot as could 
be in a matter of seconds. I wanted to give him some sucking, just for my 
benefit, but he told me to hold off until he had the harness on my body. I 
didn't know what to say. I asked him what about a little tit rubbing, but he 
said that we would get to that child's stuff later. He wanted the leather 
thing on me right then and there. 

"So I got onto my hands and knees and let him put it on me. He strapped one 
part of it around my waist. Then two straps went down on the tops of my buns 
and tied around in front so that my cheeks were held open by the leather 
throngs. Then he clipped some kind of a metal hook on the back strap, the 
part that braced the whole thing on my body. It was kind of like a leash,, 
only every time he pulled that thing it was a muzzle. That's when I realized 
that there was one piece of leather that went around in front of my pussy. 
It had a place for an attachment. You can guess what the attachment was: it 
was the rubber dildo from the other night. Dennis had planned the whole 
thing from the beginning. He clipped that dildo into place and it went 
sliding into my hole. So now, every time he did something with the back of 
the halter, it pushed the dildo up and down in my twat. Jesus, I thought for 
sure I was going to die with passion the way that thing worked. 

"But then he greased up my buns and pushed his meat into my bunghole. Now, 
every time that he went sliding in my tube, the dildo in front went cramming 
up and down in my twat. Oh, God, that was the killer! It felt good in front 
but because of the way the thing held me open in back it was nearly killing 
me to get stabbed in the anus. I had to reach out and hold onto the head of 
the bed just to keep from fainting. I was feeling so much ache in my buns 
and so much good in my twat. It was the most confusing sexual experience I 
ever had. 

"I was juicing but I was crying. I was having tears come out of my eyes and 
twat ooze out of my hole. I didn't know whether I was coming or going. But 
Dennis, he knew what was happening to him. He was getting a nice little kick 
out of ramming his cock muscle up my anus and pulling on that leash at the 
same time. For him, I guess, it was terrific. He even managed to do a little 
rubbing on my titties while he thrust that flesh needle up and down in my 
rear. I was just about dying for it to be over. It was too much fucking in 
both of my holes at once. I needed to rest. 

"But Dennis, he just kept going. He kept popping in deeper and harder. It 
was as if my cries of agony were extra fuel for his energetic fucking in my 
buns. But pretty soon he finally got so hot that he was ready to explode in 
there. And explode he did! 

"He shot off a mass of jism juice so big, Doctor, that I thought for sure I 
was going to float away. I thought I would just turn into a big blimp and 
get taken away by the next wind. It was so much for me that I couldn't keep 
from farting on Denny's dick. I didn't do it on purpose, and I'd have done 
anything to keep from doing it. But I couldn't help myself. I just farted 
and it was a big one, too, like a blown gasket. 

"Well, Dennis, he went bezerk. He started pulling on that leather chain, the 
one that worked the dildo in my pussy, and he wouldn't stop. That big black 
rubber prong was jamming up and down next to my clit and twitching around 
inside my tube. I was out of control, just as much as Dennis. Somehow, I 
don't know how for sure, I came off of Denny's rod. That pissed him off even 
more. That was frustrating for him, I guess, and he started spanking me on 
the cheeks and pulling the leather leash at the same time. That mechanical 
pecker device was sliding up and down inside my hole at the same time that 
Denny was slapping his open palm on my buns. Before I knew it I was getting 
welts on my rear while I was cuming in my pussy. The whole room stank from 
clit juice and I was crying. There was the sound of his hand clapping on my 
cheeks, and the sound of me welping like an infant. It was a bizarre thing, 
Doctor, like out of some nightmare. I kept squawking and not knowing whether 
I wanted it to end or to keep on going. It was the most terrifying sexual 
experience I ever had. It was just devastating ... 

"Well, finally, Dennis pulled that thing loose. It un-snapped and I climbed 
into a fetal position, more to protect myself than anything else. I thought 
for sure that he was going to make another assault on me, and that I would 
be raped and slapped around some more. But he didn't. He just left me curled 
up like that, in a ball of flesh. After a while he fell asleep next to me 
and I got up and showered. Believe it or not, I was still a little hot, even 
thought I felt so terrible. 

"I looked at my buns in the mirror. They were pink and there were slap marks 
there. No matter how hot I was, no matter how horny I felt, there was no way 
in the world that I wanted to continue with him if I was going to end a sex 
session with marks on my body. 

"I think it's partly my fault that things got out of hand, Doctor. See this 
sack? That's got the leather halter in it. Dennis is still at home in bed 
asleep. I came here early because I want you to tell me what to do. I have 
to go home to my husband in a few minutes and I want you to tell me what I 
should tell him. I don't want him to beat me anymore. 

"Can you help me?" 

CASE NUMBER EIGHT: Carlo, D. 

"Maybe it's because I'm black, Doctor. Do you think that has anything to do 
with it? Do you think he hits me that way because I'm black? 

"I don't know either. I see by that look on your face, though, that you are 
curious... I'll tell you all about it. We met when I was very young. I was 
fifteen, to be exact, and I'd had intercourse with no man. I was a virgin. 
The fact that he was white-well, frankly, it appealed to me. He was gentle, 
then, too. He had something nice in his face. Not like now. Now the way he 
treats me now, when I let him. But I'm getting ahead of myself. 

"I was fifteen. He asked me, even the first time out, if I knew what it was 
to have sex, and when I told him I did, he took me to a motel and made me 
strip. He played some funky music and that made it easier, but when he stuck 
that big hog of his inside me and hit my ribbon, well, we both knew right 
then from the way I was screaming and carrying on that I was not 
experienced. And if that didn't convince him, the blood spots did. 

"After that, though, it was mighty damn good sex. Like I said, he had a big 
hog and it used to turn into a righteous boner. I loved to get my lips 
wrapped around it, and I think one reason he liked me, and maybe the reason 
he still does, is that he likes to see that white meat of his up against my 
black face. I don't know why that turns him on, but I see his eyes pop out 
sometimes when he gets a load of his big pink boner floating in my face ... 
I like to suck him and to tell you the truth, I think it's a turn-on 
especially just because he's white ... aint that a kick in the butt? 

"Well, we got married when I was seventeen. I eloped with him. I had had 
some other guys, mostly black, and I was hot to have myself an easy time of 
it in one regard: I was in love with that white man and I liked the way he 
poked around in my twat. So what more could I ask for? I was ready to follow 
him anywhere. We got married and that, I thought, was that. 

"Little did I know, eh? One thing that I couldn't stand about my parent's 
marriage was the way they were always messing around on one another. But 
once I saw what happened with my own hitching-up, well, then I went back and 
apologized to my mother. But that's neither here nor there. 

"The fact is, not five months after we were married, I took to carrying on 
with another dude. He was black, not like Charley, and it really pissed him 
off when I told him about it. Of course, I didn't tell him about it until 
maybe the next year and the affair was all over. It was just a casual thing 
for me, and not one that I wanted to think about. But Charley, he couldn't 
forgive me for it. I don't even know why I told him, really-except that I 
saw him looking at a girly magazine one day-pictures of white girls-and it 
made me sort of jealous. I wanted him to feel back the same way. That's why 
I told him. 

"Anyhow, he carried on for about two weeks about how he was going to go out 
and get some broad and bring her back to the house and make me jealous the 
way I'd made him. I reminded him that it was he who was supposed to be the 
older, wiser, more experienced one of the two of us, that I didn't expect 
he'd carry on this way. He just shook his head and walked away. 

"Well, about a week later I pulled up in front of the house after work, and 
things seemed, had seemed that is, more or less in order. I was pretty happy 
that we were back on an even keel. I walked into the livingroom and there he 
and she was, just sitting there like a couple of petunias in the garden, as 
naked, as white, as big and proud as storm clouds. I couldn't believe it. 
What was I supposed to do? Start shrieking? Carry on like a mad black woman? 
No way! I went right to the bedroom, packed an overnight bag and started 
back out of that house. I didn't want anything to do with Charley's new 
game. 

"I might have been a teenage bride and all, but I wasn't going to act like a 
silly little bitch. If he wanted to play some sort of sex game, well, that 
was his business. I was ready to call it quits. 

"He caught me at the front door. The little white tramp he'd hired or 
convinced to do the thing was sitting scared as a pigeon on the sofa. She 
didn't know whether to faint or get dressed and try and sneak out. Me and 
Charley, she could tell, were going to have a big fight. It was what he 
wanted. He grabbed me by the arms and shook me. 'Where do you think yer 
goin' black bitch?' He was pissed off like a wounded turkey. 

"I told him that I didn't want to interrupt him. He explained that he was 
going to fuck that white wench and that he wanted me to watch. I told him 
that I might have been his wife, but that I didn't have to take that kind of 
shit. He smacked me. That was the first time he ever hit me. I didn't know 
what to do. It wasn't the pain on my cheek that bothered me. It was the 
insult. My husband wasn't going to be slapping me and thinking that he could 
get by with that kind of thing. It wouldn't do. I didn't want to put up with 
it. He saw that in my eyes, but he held me pretty tight and dragged me into 
the livingroom. 

"He told me that he didn't think I was going to go along willingly for it, 
so he had prepared, just in case, to make sure that I would stay there. The 
white wench was shaking like a little bird. She even started pleading with 
Charley to let her out of the deal. So I knew right then that she was 
getting paid for what she was doing. Not that it mattered, really. 

"He pushed me down in a chair, like I started to say, and he told me that he 
had prepared things so that I would be sure to see everything just the way 
it happened, nice and clear-'a ring side seat for my black wife, he said. He 
sat me down and wrapped some sort of leather cord around my chest. He tied 
me into that chair. Then he used some sort of leather to tie my ankles to 
the feet of the chair. Then he tied my wrists to the arms of the chair. 
Finally, when he had me tied up like that, he started undressing me. I 
didn't see the point, but that's what he did. He pulled off my blouse-just 
ripped it right off my chest. He had a pair of scissors with which he cut my 
bra at the place where my cleavage was. He just sliced it there, ruined a 
perfectly good bra. He took that stuff away from my body and my big titties 
just hung down there. My nipples, even though I didn't want them to be doing 
it, were standing up on end. Those big brown caps were all stiff and erect 
and everything. The cherry tips were about as red as could be. I had goose 
bumps up and down my breast flesh. My shoulders were hot and cold at the 
same time. Charley was really getting to me by tying me up that way. It was 
some of it sex and some of it fright. I didn't know what was going to happen 
next. 

"Well, I should have known. It was obvious. He teased one of my titties. 
Don't forget, Doctor, I couldn't move because he had my arms tied to the 
chair with those straps of leather, and the same was true for my ankles. My 
feet were spread out a little. "He leaned down between my feet and squatted 
there looking up at me. He smiled a little and pulled off I my shoes. Then 
he yanked at my nylons and ripped them off my legs. That left me wearing 
only my skirt and my panties. He reached up between my legs like a man I'd 
never met before. He used the scissors in his other hand to cut my skirt off 
my body. Then he did the same thing with my panties. He left my legs and my 
bush completely bare. I was so vulnerable tied up like that and it 
frightened me something awful. 

"Well, he laughed when he saw how scared I was. He told me not to worry, 
that he wasn't a wife murderer. He smiled and turned around to the white 
bitch. It was then that I noticed she was a blonde, just the WASP child I 
knew he had tucked away in the back of his brain. He had her lay down in 
front of me. They spread out on the floor. That little girl had a couple of 
knockers almost as big as mine. Charley went sliding his joint up and down 
between those two big titties. He went rubbing his pecker in that cleavage 
space like he'd never done it before. And he kept looking up over his 
shoulder at me, as if he wanted to make sure that his torture was working on 
me. It was, Doctor, but I also realized that he was trying to do something 
else. He thought that I was kind of like his mother and that he was going to 
get scolded from me for doing it to that white girl. He thought that me, 
Carla, a black housewife, was his mother and that I was going to reprimand 
him for being such a bad little white boy. I couldn't believe -it, but I 
think that's one thing that Charley had in mind while he went rubbing his 
dick between that little white girl's titties. I just kept looking at them 
in case he turned around to see if his plan was working. I wanted him to 
think that it was, which really wasn't very true. 

"Well, after that titty rubbing on that girl's nipples and all, Charley had 
her go down on him. I have to say that the little wench did give my husband 
quite a sucking. She worked her tongue up and down along his boner and all 
along the mushroom tip. She got that big meaty head of his into her face and 
that's when she started giving him what I call header. She was all over that 
spongy cap with her lips and her tongue, and she did good job of sucking. 
That much I have to say for her. 

"Just from watching them two working out I could feel the juices get to 
secreting in my twat. I don't know why that happened to me. God knows, I'd 
have been better off not getting hot that way, but I couldn't help myself. 
Seeing that big boner, watching that girl go down on my husband, seeing how 
the two of them were gasping and panting and all... well, I guess I couldn't 
do much else but get hot, too! 

"Charley didn't see me that way, not at first. He just kept enjoying the 
idea that he was torturing me and making me jealous-which he was. But I was 
also pretty fucking hot, too. I was turned on. I had some chills of my own 
going. 

"The next thing Charley did was tell me to watch really carefully. He said 
he was going to do something that he knew I would like. You know what he did 
Doctor? Right in front of me, his wife, he went down on that girl's pie. I 
couldn't believe it. He went down in there and started sucking out her twat 
lips, rubbing his tongue up and down against her clitoris, eating her like 
as though she were his wife or something. It was one thing for Charley to 
fuck a girl in front of me, which is what I thought he was going to do, but 
it wasn't right for him to eat her out. I don't know why, but I thought that 
was something really personal that he wouldn't play any games with. I 
started squirming in those leather bonds which held me to the chair. I 
wanted to get out of there, out of my livingroom and out of that house where 
I had been living with my white husband ... 

"But there wasn't any escape for me. I had to see him do that. I had to sit 
there and watch him lick out that white girl's cunt. It revolted me to think 
how perverse his brain was to think of something like this for torture. But 
then, I figured, I was just getting to know what kind of a man he really 
was. I watched him get that girl so hot that she was dying for him to fuck 
her with his penis. 

"And that's what he did next. He took that big boner of his and with a smile 
in my direction entered that baby. He stuck that joint of his all the way up 
her pussy and didn't stop pounding inside of her until she screamed like a 
little baby getting her first fucking. She wailed and panted like she was 
having one big multiple orgasm after another. I couldn't believe it, and 
then I remembered that she was getting paid for it and that Charley had 
probably told her to pour it on thick at the end. But from the way she was 
blushing and sweating, I got the idea she wasn't really faking it. I could 
see Charley's big meat stick flying in and out of her tube and her twat 
lips. It was a real fuck, alright, and that was something you couldn't fake 
. .. 

"A minute later Charley pulled that big old familiar wand out of the white 
girl's pussy and there was juice dripping from his pole. I knew he wasn't 
faking that. There just wasn't any way in the world to pretend about that 
jism stuff which was dripping from his cock head. I started to cry because 
it was so crazy what we were doing to each other, what he was doing to me 
especially ... I didn't make a lot of noise sobbing or anything, but I 
couldn't keep the tears from rolling down my cheeks. I felt like a little 
baby . .. 

"... and then I heard Charley telling that white bitch to go home. I opened 
my eyes and she was all packed up. I looked real hard at her face so that I 
could remember what a true whore looked like. Any woman who would help a man 
do what Charley was doing had to be the worst kind of whore in the world. I 
just stared at her from the time she started packing until she was out the 
door. The next thing I knew Charley had slapped me across the face. 

"I looked up at him and didn't give him the pleasure of a reaction because I 
knew that would please him, even though my face was stinging like it had 
been bit by a jelly fish. I just sat there tied up and shaking inside and 
wondering what he was going to do with me. He ran his finger up across my 
cheek. He called me all sorts of names, Doctor. They were revolting names, 
things that you wouldn't hear at a KKK meeting. He was being awfully rough 
on me just because I was his wife and I had been honest with him. He was 
being awfully rough indeed. 

"He lifted his pecker up to my face and made me suck it clean. He stuffed it 
between my lips. The first time I spit it out. But I couldn't do that the 
second time because he got his hand behind the nape of my neck and shoved 
his meat into my lips. I thought about not cooperating but I knew he would 
just punish me worse if I didn't go along with him. I gave him the header he 
wanted, sucked on that point of his until it was clean and stiff again. He 
told me that if I kept being 'a good little black girl' that he would make 
sure I got untied really soon. 

"Then he reached down between my legs and started fingering my clit. He 
worked his finger up and down between my twat lips. He foiled around in 
there and made me stiff and excited. I couldn't help myself. He was getting 
me just the way I loved it. I could feel his finger sliding against my clit 
and making me hot. I didn't want to but I looked. I looked down there and 
saw his big boner and then I saw his finger, and I saw what he was doing 
with it. He was driving that digit of his up and down next to my pussy lips 
and working out on my little pussy-joint. I couldn't keep from getting hot 
just then, Doctor, if my life depended on it. It's only natural, I guess, 
and I just couldn't keep from juicing with seeing that finger and feeling it 
in there between my ruby red cunt lips ... 

"Charley knew how hot he was making me. You could have seen in his face how 
happy he was to have me tied up like that, like I was his slave or 
something, his black sexual slave ... He couldn't get enough of it, if you 
ask me. It reminded me of the time when I was in elementary school and one 
of my white teachers asked me if I wanted to stay after school and clean the 
erasers for him. I don't know why it reminded me of that. I was kind of 
surprised though that my brain was still working that way at all. I was so 
hot from seeing and feeling that finger of Charley's rubbing in my pussy 
that I couldn't understand why I was doing anything besides huffing and 
puffing. 

"My titties were getting flashes. Whenever my tits get flashes, Doctor, I 
know for sure that I'm headed for orgasm. I didn't want to be getting that 
hot from a finger-fucking while my husband had me tied up, but I was. I was 
going to cum whether I wanted to or not. The question was whether or not I 
could keep Charley from knowing. I just kept staring at him like I was bored 
stiff, but he knew. He knew I was hot and bothered, horny and lusty, and he 
knew that just a little more grinding from that finger of his in my hole and 
he would have me finished off for the day. (Jesus, I don't know, sometime, 
how people can stand each other ... ) 

"He started stroking my long black thighs. He rubbed them with his open 
palms. He could see me getting shivers and chills. My shoulders were 
shaking. My eyes must have bee dilated. He could just look at me and see how 
turned on I was. He had his finger in my hole and he was working his hand up 
and down my slender thighs. He was having some fun, I could tell. I wanted 
to tell him that it didn't matter that he thought I was his mother or that I 
was blaek. I wanted to tell him that he should just go ahead and have some 
fun with my body, that he should untie me and fuck my brains out for me, and 
that I would let him do that before I left him all together. I was thinking 
that, but then how often is it that we say what we think and do what we know 
we should, Doctor? How often is it that we do the truely human thing? 

"Anyhow, without going off the deep end, just let me say that Charley was 
getting very lusty and he could have enjoyed himself a lot more if I'd have 
thought we could trust each other. Instead, though, he preferred to have me 
tied up with those leather straps and my legs spread out with his finger up 
my cunt. I could see the way his boner was starting to throb that he wasn't 
far off from another big juicing. I wanted to tell him to stick it in my 
pussy because I was so damn hot, but I didn't think there was any way in the 
world that he would go for that. It would mean having to untie me. 

"But he Surprised me. After a minute or two more of pushing his hands up and 
down between my legs, then he said that he was going to untie me for a 
minute and then stretch me out in the bedroom. He said that if I tried to 
fight him he would hurt me. He didn't care about our being husband and wife 
anymore. I just had to do what he said. He was really flippy. So I nodded 
and told him I would do what ever he wanted, that I wouldn't fight him. He 
unstrapped me and held me tight by my wrists which he tied together. Then he 
unstrapped my ankles and led me into the bedroom. Before he undid my wrists 
he tied my feet out wide to the foot of the bed. Then he undid my wrists and 
tied them up to the head of the bed. I told him he didn't have to do that, 
that I would still fuck him anyhow. He laughed and tied the straps pretty 
tight around my wrists. I could barely move and it hurt a bit in my ankles 
and my arms. 

"Charley didn't pay me any mind from then on. He just climbed on and started 
pumping that meat of his down inside my hole. He ground pretty good, too, I 
have to admit. He drilled me full of that hot cock muscle of his and it 
wasn't long before he was flooding that slot with juice. I could barely 
move, of course, except for my hips. Charley had his white hands wrapped 
around my smooth black buns and he was squeezing those cheeks, going wild 
with them in his kneading fingers. It wasn't long before that puddle of cum 
in my pussy was complete and he yanked his big joint out of my tube. I 
thought for sure that the big sex torture scene was over. 

"But I was wrong, Doctor. Charley, he just took a seat on the side of the 
bed and caught his breath. He talked from time to time, telling me that no 
matter how long we were married we'd always have problems, that no matter 
what happened he'd always feel sort of strange about me being black and his 
being white, and then he said that if only he could get a good piece of ass 
out of me everything would be alright. I wanted to get up and kill him for 
that one, and I would have, too, but 

I was pretty well tied up and it was impossible. 

'The next thing Charley did was a complete surprise. He brought out one of 
those battery-operated dildos, the kind you see advertised in the magazines. 
I was afraid of the thing, and it turned out I had good reason to be. He 
took it and rammed it up my cunt and turned it on. He didn't take it out 
until I was ready to pass out. He just rubbed and pushed and shoved that 
thing up and down against my clit until I was dying from it. It's not the 
same as when you're enjoying it. It was more like sexual pain than sexual 
torture. He was killing my clit-flesh with that thing, and he knew it, too. 
He just kept letting it rub up against me. He kept pressing that dildo at 
me. Oh, God, Doctor! It was awful! 

"Maybe I really did faint I don't know for sure. But the next thing I knew, 
Charley was talking to me. He said: 'I don't want really to hurt you.' 

"I said baok: 'Why don't you stop this, then?' 

"He said: 'You're my wife, my black wife, and I can fuck you any way I want 
to.' I told him that he was right about that, but I asked: 'What if you fuck 
me and I die?' 

"He just shook his head. He didn't know what to say. I wanted to be free of 
him. I struggled against the bonds, which held my wrists to the bed posts. I 
was stretched out like a spread eagle. He told me not to struggle and that 
he would free me. He did that, alright, but he tied me back up again, too. 
Only the second time I was on my belly, not on my back. He stretched open my 
buns and went looking down my back tunnel. Jesus, Doctor, there was no end 
to the humiliation of it. 

"He left me there for a while and went to get something. I hoped that it was 
not going to be something dangerous. I began to fear for my life. There I 
was stretched nude and like a prisoner in my own house and I couldn't do a 
damn thing about it. This white fool was going to go and ruin our marriage 
and maybe my bunghole, too. He came back with a bottle of something. I found 
out later it was cooking oil. He poured it on to my ass flesh and rubbed it 
around between my two big cheeks. He made sure that the tube was well oiled 
and he used his finger to get the grease in just about every conceivable 
spot. He rubbed it up and down all around my globes. He didn't miss a square 
inch. To tell you the truth, it was making me hot and lusty again, even 
against my better instincts. I knew he was going to torture me with that big 
thick boner of his shoved into my anus. 

"Sure enough, he climbed up onto my buns and started rubbing around. He took 
that wiener muscle and sandwiched it between my buttocks. He went for a nice 
greasy slide up and down the cheeks of my ass, especially in between where 
it felt nice for both of us. I knew, though, that the good feeling was only 
going to last for a little while longer and that the next thing I would get 
would be that rod of his busting up my tube. 

"I wasn't far off. A minute later he entered me. He shoved that white post 
of his down inside. I could feel him splitting me open. I felt like a tree 
stump. His ax just kept cutting, tearing me open. In he went, down to bowel 
territory. My rump was filled up with more cock flesh than I knew existed in 
the world. I didn't understand why he wanted it that way just then, but I 
didn't ask him either. I just screamed and hollered, cussed at him, swore 
that I would get back at him, swore that somehow, sometime, if he didn't 
kill me right then, I would tear every hair out of his body, or that I would 
have him arrested, or that I would get his body dragged through the streets 
of Watts for doing that to me. He just kept pumping, grinding that big tough 
flesh drill into my asshole, and I don't think he would have ever stopped if 
he hadn't started ejaculating. That was what saved me from dying right 
there. He came and it was over. 

"When he finally pulled out of my body he was out of breath and tired. I 
think maybe he'd had what he wanted. It was kind of like a little game for 
him. He just wanted to get that one shot in and he didn't care what he'd 
have to do to get it. It didn't really have all that much to do with my 
having told him about my affair from the previous year. He wasn't that 
jealous. He was just using that as an excuse to bang me while I was tied up. 
I wondered if he would ever want to do that again. I wonder now, even, if I 
can trust him. He's still my husband, you know, Doctor, and there were some 
good times that we spent together. 

"There was that time on the roller-coaster ride, I remember, when he 
finger-fucked me into ecstasy as we went up and down the tracks. And another 
time when we were at a football game and it was cold out? He spread a 
blanket over our laps and just as I was get- ting to thinking about it, sure 
enough he rammed a finger up between my legs and while everyone else was 
standing up and cheering, we were sitting there on the bench getting so hot 
you wouldn't believe it. I had my hand going up and down between his thighs 
and under that blanket and I was getting a good grip on that boner muscle of 
his. And it was big too. While everyone was cheering we were jacking each 
other off. Oh, Jesus, we had some good times ... 

"Once when I was late coming home he got all undressed in bed and pretended 
to be asleep but when I climbed in alongside him he had a boner the size of 
a blow-torch. It was that hot, too, and I was juicing like a madwoman before 
I even, got half of that thick muscle into my pussy. It just drove me crazy, 
good crazy, lusty and wild, just to see it, just to lay eyes on such a 
marvelous flesh invention as that erection of his. I rubbed him into my hole 
and climbed up good and tight on that thing. I rode him like he was a little 
horse and I was a midget jockey. Only I was far from small. My big titties 
hung down over his chest and rubbed up and down along his body, pressing 
along his manly titties and making him even hotter. I leaned down close and 
kissed him and he shot off up inside my hot cunt hole. It was gooooood! 

'There were lots of times like that. But because he tied me up in bed and 
fucked me up the asshole, well, I don't know if I can ever trust him again. 
You know what I mean? I mean, what if we were to go home today and he were 
to take out those leather straps again and pretend I was his lady slave all 
over again. It would nearly kill me to have to go through that one more 
time. It was everything I could do to get him to come to the hospital today. 
I don't even know why you want to discuss it with me, Doctor. It's Charley 
who needs the help. 

"Did I tell you why he left me loose? He let me up out of those leather 
bonds because I promised to give him header. I told him I would give him the 
best suck off he ever had if only he would let me loose. He said that he 
would do that, let me up, but that if I tried to be cute and chicken out of 
sucking him off, well, then he-would give me a lashing like I had never had 
before, a whipping like my granddaddy in the South never even knew existed. 
That made me angry, but I told him I would go along with his terms. He let 
me loose. 

"Well, I started sucking on him. I licked that spent boner of his. I rubbed 
it with my rosy tongue. He loves to see my black lips around that pink hog 
of his. I went down and scooped up as much of that boner into my face as I 
could. I was thinking all the time that somehow I must get him to a 
hospital, that he has blown his lid and he'll take me with him if I don't 
think quick. And all the time that I was thinking that way I was sucking on 
the head of his boner. I was getting that cap swabbed with my splayed pink 
tongue, chewing and gnawing and giving the header that I think saved my 
life. I sucked him off so good, got him so hot, that he didn't know if he 
was coming or going. It was the same for him as it was for me when he tied 
me up. I had him strapped into that mattress with my mouth! It was just as 
much making him into my slave as he had made me into his. You know what I 
mean, Doctor? Because I was giving him such good head, and rubbing my 
titties up and down against his legs and using my hands to squeeze on the 
shaft and tickle his nutnest, he completely forgot how he was feeling bad 
and he was sort of my prisoner. Like I had turned the tables on him. 

"When he was about as hard as could be I reached under him. I slipped my 
pretty black hands under his nice white cheeks and held on tight to those 
pieces of ass flesh. I grabbed on and sucked the jism out of his tube. No 
way in the world that white man would have been able to escape my hold. I 
had him, had him with my mouth the way he thought he had me with his leather 
and his straps and his beating me up and all. It was just that simple .. . 

"Well, after he came like that he was understandably tired. He must have 
shot off five times in an hour or so, and that would be enough to make any 
man tired. He laid down on the bed and went right to sleep. I waited a 
little while before calling the hospital. That was about two hours ago. I 
wondered if they would get there in time, before he woke up and found me 
dressed and getting ready to leave. I was worried that maybe he would get up 
and attack me again. So I took those pieces of leather he'd used to tie me 
up? I took them and tied his hand-he was so sound asleep that he didn't even 
mumble when I took his hand-took that hand and his other one and tied them 
to the bed post, only not separate the way he done me, but together, like 
handcuffs. I tied him real tight. Then I strapped one of his feet to the 
bedpost and laced it up good. He was still asleep. 

"A little while later the men in the white coats came. They wanted to know 
what the problem was. I told them what I told you, only brief. They agreed 
that the best thing for Charley was a little rest. I was glad that one of 
those men from the hospital was black. I was afraid they wouldn't have 
believed me otherwise. 

"I sure do hope you can help Charley, Doctor. You know why? Because he has 
such a good meat and when he's not crazy he can give me the best fuck 
possible. I wouldn't have married a white man if he couldn't give me the 
best screw in the world... I wanted a man who could make me sexually happy. 
That's why I got together with that man in the first place. I want our 
marriage to last because that way I'll know for sure I'll be getting the 
kind of balling that makes a girl like me happy. I'd even give him a little 
anal screwing every now and then if that would make him happy. And you know 
what else? I'd let him tie me up, too. Yes, sir! I'd let him tie me up just 
so'long as I knew that he wouldn't get too rough. I like to experiment too, 
you know. After all, it would get kind of boring just doing the same old 
fuck stuff day-in and day-out... But you have to promise me, Doctor, before 
I go back together with him that Charley won't go bezerk, that he won't just 
all of a sudden tie me up and leave me that way and never let me loose. I 
don't mind being tied up and fucked, but that being a slave for real... 
well, me and my people, we had enough of that shit.,. you know what I mean? 
Sex is one thing, but slavery ... that's something all together different!" 


THE END
