FF-188 Whip Cult
By Unknown


FOREWORD

He was pushing his big dick into her anal opening. "Relax and take it or
I'll rip you apart."

The thick cucumber was already in her cunt and once she was impaled from
both sides he started to work both the vegetable and his own massive organ
in and out of her body.

His boss's spoiled daughter was now Barney's slave.

Meanwhile, Ralph had the Swedish maid, naked and on her knees in front of
him.

And meanwhile, Arthur was tying Eleanore's wrists to the headboard, giving
her no chance to protest.

And meanwhile, Weber had tossed Wanda over his knees and was spanking her
bare ass.

Each man was eager to prove that he was the meanest, toughest Master of
them all, each one out to conquer a beautiful, powerful woman, and to
explore the mysteries of a Master and slave relationship.


CHAPTER ONE

"Boffin' pussy! Boffin' pussy! Big fuckin' deal. So fuckin' what?"

The other three guys who were sitting around the card table looking at
their poker hands turned to the one who had just spoken. "It'll do till
something better comes along."

Ignoring that remark, the first speaker smiled slightly and looked around
the table as he asked, "Did any of you guys ever have a woman as your
slave? Hell, a woman is a lot more than just a hole to fuck. A woman is the
whole body and the whole mind as well.

"It seems to me that anybody with a stiff dick can boff a pussy. Probably
even you jerks at this table here can dominate a woman's body. But ... heh,
heh, how many of you can dominate the whole woman?

"How many of you clods can turn a woman into a slave? Huh?"

The card game stopped. The subject that Arthur had raised was one that got
the interest of all the other young men at the table with him. This,
incredibly enough, was the executive lunchroom of one of the classiest
advertising agencies in Manhattan.

Perhaps the conversation sounded more appropriate for a poolroom, but
these were the four junior executives of the company, all of them male, who
were having a friendly poker game on their lunch break after having gobbled
down their sandwiches.

"How about you, Barney?" he said to the black guy sitting across from him.
"After all, you are black."

"Is that supposed to be a racist remark, Arthur?" Barney asked in the most
pleasant way.

Arthur grinned from ear to ear as he said, "We know what they say about
black men. And, anyway, you're a hell of a lot more likely to have done it
than Ralph over here."

"Hey, what do you mean?" Ralph snapped, turning openly hostile. His red
hair and freckles made him look younger than he really was and he was very
sensitive on that subject.

Arthur chuckled. He liked getting someone's goat and it was very easy to
get Arthur's. He turned to the fourth person at the table, the young man to
his left Weber was terribly shy.

And so the subject was dominating women, turning them completely into
slaves. "I have fifty bucks that says I can bring in the very best woman
within one week, completely dominated and enslaved to me."

"H-how will we know that she's completely dominated?" Weber asked.

"We can use my apartment. If I have dominated the woman then she'll be
willing to perform for all of you guys, she will be willing to follow all
my commands and instruction. And I fully expect that each of you will bring
a woman who has become your slave."

"Fifty bucks?" Barney asked, grinning. "Why not make it a hundred?"

"A hundred? If you guys want to give me that kind of money I'd be happy to
take it." Then Arthur turned toward Ralph and Weber. "If you guys are too
scared you'll lose ... "

"Lose? Not me!" Ralph snapped, leaning back in his chair.

"You can count me in," Weber said, imagining the chance to have sex with
the girls that were brought by Arthur and Barney. They shook hands around
the table.

Then Arthur said, "Oh, of course, if any of us doesn't bring a girl as a
slave then that guy forfeits the contest automatically and can't even come
into the apartment with us next week."

When Weber started to stammer something, Arthur said, "What's the matter?
You weren't thinking that you were gonna put up a hundred bucks and just
get some sex with the girl I brought?" He laughed.

And then it was the end of their lunch break. They all had to go back to
their little offices without any windows. It was Wednesday and they had
until the following Wednesday to find girls.

It was at five when they were all leaving the building together and they
stopped for a smoke in the hallway, that Weber asked, "How do we judge the
best woman?"

The guys looked at each other and Arthur said, "Looks."

"But there's something else. There has to be something more than looks,"
Ralph said. "It can't be some bimbo who would be willing to be anybody's
slave. Hey, Arthur, weren't you the one who said that this was really a
contest about enslavement? Which one of us can crack the toughest nut?
Which one of us can find a woman who's really strong stuff, who's really
got a lot of spunk and a lot of fight in her, and make her into a slave?"

All of the young executives seemed to stare off into space then. It was
like a dream that they shared. Taming a bitch and turning her into a docile
slave.

But, for all of them, even for Arthur who had claimed the most experience
in domination, this had only been a dream. It was merely something that
they each aspired to.

"Okay. I'm with Ralph," Barney said. "That's the way to measure the best
woman. Which one of us can bring in a woman who's really got guts and
spunk."

"Ms. Craig would be the best of all. If anyone could tame Ms. Craig ... "
Weber said, giggling.

The other men nodded. "That'll be our yardstick. She should be like Ms.
Craig."

"Only prettier than that snotty bitch," Arthur said, referring to the only
junior executive who was female. The men avoided her as much as possible
and didn't include her in their conversations, their lunches, or their
shared secrets.

"Okay, guys," Ralph said, rushing ahead of the others. "We all know what
we're looking for. I'm gonna catch the elevator downstairs and I'm gonna
start looking right now."

They all laughed and followed, rushing out of the building, making that
part of the game as if they were actually all out on a treasure hunt of
some sort. They had one week to report back to the home base with the
single and singular item that was the object of this hunt.

What they were looking, for were four female slaves, each one ready to
compete on points of obedience and value as property. It was the ultimate
in male chauvinism and it was very sexually exciting for the participants.

Weber was the last one out of the building. He hadn't kept pace with the
others.

His mind was wandering, very slowly. Weber was a thinker. He was the young
executive without the aggressiveness to rise up the corporate ladder as
fast as the others, but he was the one who had been hired because he was a
genius. Because of his mathematical mind everyone figured that Weber was
just the sort who would stay with the same company for thirty-five years
and would eventually rise to the post of vice president in charge of
financing.

And that was exactly the way that Weber saw himself as well.

He had always had perfect scores and perfect grades throughout all his
time in school and this was not going to be any exception now. He made his
way by doing everything so well that he could not be ignored. That way he
didn't need to push in any way or to be extroverted.

At important company meetings when the others were raising issues and
trying to make points with their superiors, Weber would not say a word. He
would just quietly hand someone a three-hundred page report on the subject
that he had done on the subject on hand which had all of the facts and
figures systematically organized. No matter which side of a hotly contested
issue anyone in the company favored, they were all turning to Weber for the
facts to support their side.

He was content with his lot, and pleased with the way people, saw him.

But this was a strange situation he had stepped into. It was a hundred
dollar bet and on top of that it would mean humiliation if he couldn't
produce a slave while the others could.

Weber decided to handle this problem in just the way he handled most
problems. He would read about it. Reading a thick volume meant nothing to
him and so he set out for the bookstores on Fifth Avenue.

As long as he kept matters on a factual basis, Weber was never embarrassed
by anything. Therefore, he asked quite directly for the information he
wanted. With his glasses and his conservative grey suit and white tie and
his black hair clipped short and combed neatly he assumed that he looked
like an academician, which is what he basically was.

He might have been a college professor.

He went by the rule that, as long as he considered himself an academician,
he could go up to a lovely young woman in a bookstore and look her in the
eyes and ask her, "Pardon me, but do you happen to have any books
pertaining to sado-masochistic sexual behavior?"

Asking this question along Fifth Avenue he was directed to a small
bookstore that was off on a side street in the West Fifties. There wasn't
even a name outside that was large enough to read, just a great deal of
esoteric writing on the front window of the store and jumbles of books
inside that window. It was a narrow store that meandered very far back.

As Weber proceeded up the length of the aisle on one side of the store he
saw a girl putting books on a shelf. She had long dark hair that was very
straight and was hanging down her back. She had on a leotard that was black
and was clinging to her breasts so that Weber could see immediately that
she wasn't wearing a bra. Her breasts weren't the largest he had ever seen,
but they were very firm and beautifully formed. They looked like the
perfect halves of two melons. Her nipples, being massaged by the fabric of
the clinging leotard, were already erect. Even though the fabric was black
he could see the nipples clearly.

She was also wearing a loose skirt and sandals on her feet.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asked, seeing the curious expression on Weber's
face.

He almost opened his mouth and said, "Yes. Would you be my slave?" But he
swallowed hard first, swallowing the words. He smiled at himself, realizing
what he was thinking. And then he said, "Yes. I'm looking for books about
sado-masochistic sexual behavior."

The girl's black eyes seemed to light up and she smiled then she looked
down at his feet, suddenly, almost as if she realized that she had made a
mistake in meeting the man's-eyes.

"Right this way, sir," she said, unable to disguise the enthusiasm in her
voice.

Weber sensed something strangely subservient about the girl's manner. He
looked at her from the back. She was so slender, so delicate and seemingly
fragile.

She stepped to the side of the shelf and pointed to the books. "Perhaps I
can help you. I would be delighted, sir, to be of help to you." Then she
glanced up at his eyes, meaningfully, hopefully.

"Is there one of those books that you can recommend to me?" he asked the
girl.

She immediately turned to the shelf and took down a large book that had
line drawings all the way through it. The drawings showed different bondage
positions.

"But this is only one part of the sado-masochistic experience," he said,
leafing through the book in a thoughtful manner. He remembered what Arthur
had said at lunch. He had a good way of digesting information, even if it
was nothing more than opinion, and making it his own.

"After all, the body is only one part of the person. Dominating the body
... as with these ropes, is only one part of domination. Dominating the
person herself ... Aah, that's something else."

Weber could hear his own heart beating. He knew damn well by that point
what he was doing. He was taking very direct and decisive action to seduce
the girl. He was taking direct action to make her think that life was
experienced at the art of domination.

He could tell from the way she was responding to him, he knew intuitively,
that she was turned on by the subject.

"I will certainly take this book, however," he said, tucking the bondage
manual under his arm. He was stalling for time, trying to figure out how to
ask for the girl's phone number or something. "But, I would still like
something more." He turned back toward the shelf.

In actuality he was feeling intimidated. He wasn't used to being
domineering of anyone and he was just trying to avoid the subject for the
moment as his eyes scanned the titles.

But that wasn't what the girl perceived. She saw things the way she wanted
to see them and so she saw the man being blas. She saw the man displaying
an attitude which told her that he didn't give a damn about anything, that
he was really a cool and collected dominant.

"Sir, if you would like something more ... some more, uh ... if you would
step back here with me I will try to oblige you, sir."

He followed the girl and she pushed open a door that was narrow between
the shelves of books. She stepped into the back room and looked back at the
man, her eyes wide and full of meaning as she held the door open for him.
He followed her into the little room.

The door shut and as soon as it did, the girl fell to her knees in front
of him and bowed her head.

"Sir," she sighed softly. Weber looked down at the top of the girl's head.
Damn the books! If only he had a chance to read one of the books, he
thought to himself. He looked down at the girl again and saw that she was
ready and quite willing. Could he turn down a chance like this?

He reached down and lightly stroked two of his fingers through her hair.

Now, he was actually doing it because he was uncertain what he should do.
But, that wasn't the way the girl was seeing it. She felt just his fingers
and she shivered all over. He was touching her hair, he was so controlled,
so cool, not like other men who would claw her.

His fingers moved toward her lips and she anxiously kissed his fingers.

He started to move his hand and found that she moved her lips along with
his fingers. So he moved his fingers directly to the front of his pants and
then her lips were pressed right up against the front of his pants. He
couldn't believe the good fortune that he had stumbled upon.

This girl was a stranger to him. He didn't even know her name. Her lips
were pressing against the front of his pants, ready to suck his dick. His
dick was already hard inside the pants.

"Whatever you tell me to do, sir," she said mumbling into his crotch.

"Open my pants ... " He stopped himself from saying 'please' to the girl
who was now his slave.

She reached up with her fingers and worked his pants open. The fly came
down and then she pulled at the top of his underpants. But, she stopped
herself in the midst of doing that. She looked up at the man's face and
softly asked, "Sir, may I pull down your underpants?"

Weber realized what happened and started to smile to himself. But then he
turned that into a sardonic smile for the sake of the girl. He was going to
dominate her now.

"You'll have to be punished for that," he said in an insinuating tone,
knowing that the girl was getting turned on.

"Oh, sir," she sighed softly as she kissed his fingers with passion.

"You'll be punished for that, disobedient, willful wench that you are."

She was already sucking on his fingers while he was saying that to her. He
was swooning from the passion and he could feel his cock pulsing. But he
knew that if he just stuffed his dick into her mouth that she wouldn't
really be satisfied and he wouldn't have really dominated her.

"Peel out of your clothes," he said, suddenly, not even realizing what he
was doing.

She looked toward the door and latched it shut. Then she opened her skirt.
She was only wearing that and the leotard. She unzipped the back of her
leotard and unpeeled herself as if she were a tangerine.

When she was naked he was stunned into stillness by her perfect young
body. She looked as if she practiced dance and probably some yoga in order
to keep her body as limber and lithe as it was.

He still wasn't sure what he would do to punish her, so she remained on
her knees in front of him. He was also concerned about her job and about
the fact that they were in a stock room of the store. But, he didn't know
how to express that concern and still manage to seem domineering to her.

"What do the others do when they want to punish you?" he snapped at her
quickly.

He was playing a hunch, but it was a pretty good hunch from all be had 
seen of the girl.

"Well, sir, they have spanked me in the past. There are other tortures. My
nipples have been tormented and my pussy lips have been bound and spanked.
But ... I guess that spanking is the main thing ... sir... Uh, usually with
the hand ... "

"Usually?" Weber asked the lovely, naked girl as she knelt on the floor.
"What else has been used?"

"Oh, sir, I'll be good. Please, I'll be good," the girl said as she kissed
the toe of his shiny shoes.

He kicked his shoe forward. Even as he was doing it, he could hardly
believe that he was doing such a thing. But he kicked the girl right into
one of her tits and knew that she loved it.

She gasped and also shuddered with delight. "I asked you a question," he
said in a deep and low tone. It was very assuring for Weber to know that
even though he was speaking in a very low tone of voice, a tone that was
almost a whisper, he would be heard, he would be listened to.

"There was one who had a paddle, sir. It was a paddle with holes in it and
... then there was another who used a leather riding crop on me ... He also
used a ruler on my bottom ... And, then, I've been spanked with ... uh ...
books, sir ... "

He knew from the way she said it, that there was something special about
the last reference. "Books?" he asked her, nodding his head. She looked up
at him and nodded hers and then looked down again.

All around them were books, big, authoritative looking books. Weber caught
sight of himself in a broken piece of mirror that was hanging up against
the far wall. He saw the face that he knew so well. He had always
considered himself an academician. He felt that was his shield in the
world. That had been the thing that permitted him to ask for this
information in a bookstore without fear of any embarrassment. It was a
professorial face he saw in that bit of mirror.

And then he looked down at the girl and he understood what she was seeing
as well. She was seeing him as some sort of academician with some sort of
control over her.

"Your punishment, young lady," he snapped at her, taking on the tone of a
teacher, "will be a stiff spanking with a nice, thick, leather-bound book.
How does that suit you?"

"Oh, sir ... Ple-e-ease!" she moaned at him as-she licked his shoes.

He smiled to himself and said, "Pick out a volume that is at least four
hundred and no more than five hundred pages. Now. Right now, young lady."
He watched the naked form of the luscious young woman as she rushed over
the shelf and searched for a book that fit his specifications.

She brought one back to him that was exactly what he had wanted and then
she resumed her position on her knees. He looked around and saw a straight
wooden chair against the wall. He sat back into that, chair and spread his
legs. Then he slapped his left thigh and said, "Bend over that."

He was holding the large book in his right hand as he slapped his left
thigh. The meaning was obvious to the girl. She got into position, bending
herself over his left thigh and thereby raising her rump up into the air.
He looked at the beautifully formed cheeks of her ass. Then he raised up
the book and he walloped it down across the flesh.

The warm, white ass cheeks quivered like two rounded mounds of gelatin.

They were still quivering when he slammed the book down across them again.
And the girl was moaning and undulating as she bent over the man's leg. He
had also put her across his left thigh, holding her down with his left arm
across her back, so that she was actually pressing down right against his
already erect cock which went down his left leg.

Time and time again he slapped the book across the checks of her ass. Her
ass quivered under the attack from the big volume and he could see the
cheeks turning red as he continued. But, he was too hot to keep holding the
book in his hand. He wanted to clutch her flesh with his own hand. He
realized that she had been turned on to him, she had considered him
dominant, mostly because of his cool nature and his confident manner. But
there was, a limit to coolness and he had reached it.

The cheeks of her ass were already turning red as he started to slap at
them with his bare hand. He felt his palm tingling with a million little
pins because of the way he was warming up the girl's delicious ass cheeks.
Then, when his hand was too hot to continue, he pressed it tightly between,
her thighs. She moaned and sighed, "Anything you wish, sir."

"That's right. Anything I wish," he grunted as he rolled her off his lap
and onto the cold concrete floor.

Her ass cheeks were already very sensitive because of the spanking site
had received. Now, with the tender flesh of those cheeks pressing against 
the cold concrete of the floor her whole body was tensing up in response to
the sensations that coursed through her.

He mounted on top of her. His pants were already open. It was only a
matter of taking down his pants and his shorts, which he did quickly
enough. His dick was standing up, fully erect.

The girl looked up at him, anxiously. He slowed down and slowly stroked
his cock.

Then he knelt between her legs. This was the first time he hadn't worried
about getting his suit dirty or anything like that. He was usually a
precise and careful person known mostly for his intellect. But this was an
opportunity that he couldn't turn down.

He got into position with his flared cock head pressing right up against
the supple lips of the girl's pussy. She moaned and grunted softly and then
he pressed his cock head between tile outer labia of her cunt. He could
feel the pussy lips clinging around the flared head of his throbbing
manhood. Then he pushed forward and he felt the inner labia clutching at
the mushroom head of his cock. He pushed from side to side and was creating
more lubrication in the hot area.

Then he thrust forward and he felt the inner cunt flesh spreading apart
for the vicious intrusion of his cock. He gave one more little shove and he
felt his meat firmly lodged inside the hot orifice. He was pressing down so
that his belly was right up against her body and his balls were resting
against the soft and tender flesh between her rounded thighs.

He pulled back a little bit, but his cock felt as if it were glued to the
flesh of her cunt. He was pulling her cunt in and out along with the
movements of his cock and she was moaning because of that. But, as he moved
from side to side there was more juice that was oozing from the flesh on
the walls of her vagina. She was lubricating the hot passage.

When there was more lubrication he was able to slide backwards so that the
flared head of his cock tugged right up against her clit. Then he slammed
forward and the big head pushed against the depths of her cunt. He was
sending wild chills all through her body.

And his cock was being massaged by the undulating movements of her wet
cunt around the stiff boner. It was a mutual sensation, a mutual tempo that
they both shared.

Just as he felt her cunt flesh pulling taut around the throbbing hardness
of his cock he felt his own balls pulling up against his body, almost as if
they were being sucked into the cunt.

And then his cock head slapped against the top of her cunt. The juice sped
up the length of his shaft and filled up the hot orifice. Her cunt pulled
taut at the same instant.

The two of them shared a long moment of hot orgasmic lust.

Afterwards, his clothed body and her naked one were covered with sweat.


CHAPTER TWO

Arthur's mind was filled with the contest that he himself had devised.

He was known for being a very impetuous sort. Sometimes his wild notions
even surprised himself. He was the junior executive who, it was felt, would
never make it to the head of anything. He was a little too wild, a little
too flamboyant.

There were many in the company who were a little frightened by him. They
figured that in another three years he wouldn't be there anyway. He was the
sort who was going to do a lot of moving around in his life. That was
clearly the life that he preferred and that was the life that no one would
begrudge him. But while he was at the company he would be valuable for his
creative input.

He was the one at the meetings who would talk off the top of his head. He
would play the devil's advocate. If something was proposed he would point
out all the problems with it and then if the entire board started to agree
with that new position, he would switch sides and would give all the
negative points of the other plan.

Then he would smile at everyone and say, "You see, gentlemen, I'm just
trying to say that there are no creative answers. There are problems no
matter which course is chosen."

That was the kind of thinking that made waves in a large corporation like
theirs, but there were enough people in the upper echelons of the company
who knew that this kind of radical thinking was what was needed if they
were ever going to keep pace with the times.

Arthur knew the way that the others in the company saw him and that suited
him just fine. He made no secret of the fact that his ultimate goal was to 
work for himself and that he wasn't interested in being a cog in some
corporate machine.

He had a curious past since he had started out as a tough kid from
Brooklyn. He went to college and was involved with the radical politics of
the late sixties. However, he was a little more clever than he was
idealistic. He was able to take the politics on his particular college
campus and to make it homogenized. He was the information Officer for the
radical student group and he was the one who was interviewed on the news
shows.

Suddenly the radical student group didn't seem so radical. He was selling
the group and their point of view to the American viewers and he became a
minor celebrity in the Northeast for a few months. However, the people who
took their politics seriously soon started to denounce him. He acted very
wounded by the whole thing, got more publicity on television news shows
because of his ouster by the radicals. After he left the movement fell
apart.

It was all too neatly packaged. Arthur had been the good guy. The radicals
had become the bad guys.

As soon as all that was starting to die down Arthur knew that his future
was in advertising. If he had been able to paint a picture on the
television news of his group of campus radicals as the kind of sincere
young men that any mother would love to have her daughter bring home, men
who were walking in the footsteps of Tolstoy and Jesus, then he was meant
for the advertising world.

The sad part was that the other members of his group did consider
themselves sincere young men. They did consider themselves to be fighting
for something important. It was Arthur who saw the whole thing neatly
packaged like breakfast cereal on a shelf.

But, that was all part of his past. He was a fashionable young bachelor
with a classy apartment that was beyond his means by just a bit. And he had
a reputation for being a lady-killer.

There was a darker side to his nature, a side that was definitely
sado-masochistic. He loved to dominate women. He loved to tie them up and
to have them serve as his slaves.

And this combined with his creative side. He always liked to tackle
problems in a wild way, to come at things from an unusual direction. He
knew that he could find a woman who could be his slave, but the assignment
was to find a woman who would be difficult to tame.

Therefore, he had to look for the woman in the least likely place for a
woman to be willing to admit that she would be a sex slave. He was walking
toward the Times Square area. But, that seemed like the most likely place.
After all, there were hookers there, girls who were down and out on their
luck and who would do anything for money.

He thought about that. He was about to turn around and head in another
direction when he passed a little storefront that had the big letters
'L.A.F.F.' on the window and below that the words 'It's no laughing
matter!' printed in red. He had heard about this group.

Straightening out his jacket and brushing back his hair, he stepped into
the little store and looked around. There was a beautiful young woman who
was sitting behind the table at the far end of the room. She was folding
circulars and putting them in envelopes.

"May I help you, sir?" she asked, looking up at the man who had just
entered.

He assessed her very quickly. She was tall. Be could tell that even though
she was seated. She was wearing a long dress in a shiny, dark fabric, it
was one of those things that was suddenly fashionable again and had been
fashionable a quarter of a century ago.

Her hair, which was a light reddish brown was pulled back from her face
and swept up into a bun. Her eyes were large and her nose was narrow. Her
lips were a little thin. Her complexion was very white and very clear,
definitely a New Yorker who hadn't had a tan in years.

"Yes. I'd like some information on your organization," he said, stepping
closer to her.

He was aware that there were two other people in the place, one woman and
one man, but he paid no attention to them. It was only the woman behind the
desk who interested him.

"What sort of information?" she asked, a note of suspicion in her voice.

Sensing that note, he said, "My name is Arthur Barone and I'm with the
Dalon Company. You know that we have five floors in the building at the
corner of Madison and this street. You know which building that is the one
with the little fountain and the steps."

"Oh, yes. Forgive me Mr. Barone. We sometimes get some ... men at this
hour who have crude notions."

"Crude notions, Miss ... ?" he asked, leaning over the desk and shaking
her hand.

"I'm Ms. Finn. I'm working on my dissertation and doing it with the
cooperation of L.A.F.F. I take care of the office in the afternoons. Now,
what can I do for you?"

"Well, I'm really here independently. It's just that the company has been
talking about wanting to have more involvement with neighborhood
improvement and ... your group here seems to have some direct bearing on
the very neighborhood that we occupy."

"Won't you have a seat, Mr. Barone," she said, pointing to a chair which
he pulled up to the other side of the table.

Then she started to gather mimeographed sheets and brochures for him.
"This is all about us L.A.F.F. The Lady's Anti-Filth Foundation. We're
going to clean up smut and filth and prostitution. The first amendment may
guarantee a lot of things, but it doesn't guarantee that."

"It doesn't?" Arthur said, trying to hide his surprise at her glib
statement. "Will you prove that in your dissertation as well?"

"Pardon me?"

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. Tell me. Just how do you intend to get rid
of the smut?"

She cleared her throat and said, "We want all of it shut down."

Nodding his head, he said, "Who decides which is which?" He seemed very
intent.

"Well, filth is filth. I mean, obscenity is obscenity. Isn't it?"

"In your dissertation, are you including any historical observations? I
mean, remember that there was a time in our not-too-distant past when books
like 'Tropic of Cancer' and 'Lady Chatterley's Lover,' recognized classics
now, were considered the subject of bans because of their obscenity.

"If you go back a little further in history you come to a point where
Goya's famous painting 'The Naked Maja' was banned because it was of a
woman's body. He would have been burned at the stake for that if it weren't
for the fact that he admitted he was wrong.

"And then you go back to the point where people died because any medical
experiments were considered obscene and even the most simple operations
would have been forbidden ... "

"Sir, I don't know what your business is here," the woman snapped as she
stood up suddenly. Her face was flushed and he could see the absolute rage
in her, eyes. "I don't see where medical experimentation or the works of
proven masters can be lumped into the same category with filth."

He smiled and wanted to say, "You closed-minded bitch! It's because of
near-sighted people like you that we're able to have things like the
Spanish Inquisition and the Nazi march of terror."

But he didn't say that to her. He merely smiled and chuckled a little bit.
"Please. Ms. Finn. I should have told you about my reputation on the board
of the company. I'm called the devil's advocate. I always want to look at
it from all sides.

"Please, calm down." He urged her back into her seat. "I need to have
answers to all of these questions so that I will be, able to answer any
questions from the board should I decide to speak on behalf of your
organization and, urge our company to support you."

"F-forgive me but ... uh, working here sometimes I get a little ...
hassled."

They, smiled at each, other and then she said, "But, you see, what we're
actually talking about when we refer to filth is ... actual images of women
being tied up and ... and hurt by men. Honestly. These things are being
sold right down the block."

"Yes. I have seen that in the windows of the stores," Arthur said,
nodding.

He was pleased with himself because he hadn't told a single lie since
entering her establishment. He told her about his position with the company
and he told her that the company wanted to support some projects in their
own community and, when she reacted with hostility to his questions he told
her of his reputation for seeing all sides of an issue.

"I must admit," he said to the woman in all sincerity. "That it's going to
take some further information until I'm convinced that what your group is
doing is either worthwhile or possible."

"Possible? Why, if the city agreed to shut down all the porno operations
here ... "

"There aren't enough police to protect people from violent crime as it is
... " he said, leaning back in his sea pretending that he was casually
coming up with his responses.

"And look at prohibition. That didn't stop people from drinking. That only
made alcohol harder to get, more expensive, and of lower quality. Isn't
that all that a police crack-down would do in this matter?"

Ms. Finn was getting upset again and he saw it clearly on her face. He
reached across for her hands and asked where she was going for her
doctorate and in what field.

She was involved in the Social Anthropology department of the City
University Once she started to tell him about that she was more relaxed.
She didn't feel as threatened.

When he asked her out to dinner that night she was a little flustered.
"Please. You said you would be leaving the office soon and you are going to
have to eat dinner anyway. You're on your student stipend from school. Let
me buy you diner then."

"Thank you," she said, as she felt him touching her hands once more.

He clutched both of her hands together and squeezed. He was thinking of
bondage. He was thinking of having the girl in bondage and as he held onto
her wrists he squeezed a little bit harder still.

She shuddered and he knew that she was going to love it.

But he also knew that he would have to work his way up to that point. When
she finally stood up he found out that she really was very tall and very
graceful. There was a certain elegance about the girl, a certain luscious
beauty as, she walked so sensually.

Her name was Eleanore and she was willing to call him Arthur by the time
they got to the restaurant. "Oh. I thought you were just going to get me a
burger. I didn't know ... "

"Please. It's a restaurant that I like. It will be my pleasure ... " He
smiled.

And he knew that the girl warmed up to that treatment. He was being very
much an old-fashioned gentleman for her. The restaurant was a very lovely
little Spanish place and Arthur ordered elaborately from the menu. He knew
that the girl was feeling suspicious of him and he knew that he wasn't 
going to have sex with her that night. That would have fulfilled her
suspicions.

He understood the workings of her mind better than she understood them
herself. He knew what she was capable of and he knew what she was thinking.
That was part of Arthur's art, always understanding the responses of the
other person.

The girl was filled with a lot of rhetoric that she hardly seemed to
believe. He listened through dinner and, although he had started out
feeling contempt for her and wanting to slam her down on the bed and teach
her a lesson, he ended up with very different feelings.

By the end of dinner he knew that the reason he wasn't going to take her
to bed, aside from the fact that this was part of his major game plan, was
that he didn't just want to slam her down, tie her up, and abuse her. He
actually felt sorry for the girl.

He was hearing more than the words she was speaking. Between the lines he
was hearing the cry of a frightened little girl, a little girl who thought
that sex was filthy and terrifying and who was virtually disgusted by the
whole process and by the human body.

She had actually grown up, with whatever input, believing that she spoke
about how contemporary she was, about how shocked her father, the minister,
was when she decided to live alone in Manhattan "But, I'm a modem woman, I
have to be."

Arthur couldn't help smiling when she said that. Everything she had said
to him throughout dinner sounded as if it had been spoken by her father,
the minister. Of course the reasons why she hated 'smut' and 'filth' were
different from his reasons. She gave Sociological background and
explanations that seemed rational. But, he knew that it was all the same
reason deep down behind all of her words. He knew that she was echoing the
same fears she had felt when she was a little girl and when she was first
aware of the hot feeling between her legs.

"It's something wrong!" her young voice cried out in her head.

She pressed her legs together. Even now as she sat at the table across
from the handsome man who had taken her out to dinner she had her legs
pressed together. She wanted to tell her body to stop feeling the way that
it felt. "These dirty feelings," she said to herself.

He held her hand and said, "I hope you'll let me see you again. This has
been very interesting."

"Oh, yes ... I must be going home now. There's a report I have to do and I
should have left already. You understand? It's no reflection on you." She
laughed nervously.

"Of course. But ... if I may see you for dinner tomorrow night ... "

Eleanore felt her heart beating very quickly, very nervously.

If Ralph was the most likely to succeed of the crew of young junior
executives it was no reflections on his skills or on his performance in his
job. It had a great deal to do with the fact that his father had been head
of the firm's legal department for the previous fifteen years.

His father was one of the highest ranking and most respected men on the
executive board. Ralph was always given prepared statements to read to the
board meetings. The statements were actually prepared by his father's
faithful private secretary and they were always incisive and to the point.

There were many in the company who were concerned that Ralph wouldn't be
able to function without his father there pulling the strings. But, that
opinion was never voiced openly.

Not only was his father too respected, he was also too powerful in the
company. It would have been suicide for anyone but the senior vice
presidents to have said anything against Ralph. It was automatically
assumed that there would be a time when Ralph would be a vice president.

His father was still not sixty and in fine health so the assumption was
that the old man would be on the board for another ten years, at the very
least, and that would be time enough for his son to have moved into a
comfortably entrenched position in the company.

But, although his family's money was so great that he didn't really have
to care about his pay or anything like that, he was concerned about the
hundred dollar wager he had made with the others.

He was thinking about it all during the long train ride up to Westchester.

Ralph still lived at his parents home. It was silly not to. The place was
so large, was such an estate, that he had all the privacy he wanted. He had
his own entrance and his own rent-free apartment with full-time maid
service and a full-time gardener.

Actually, Ralph would probably live at that house until he married.
Without someone to look after him, although he was well into his twenties 
by that time, he probably wouldn't have been able to find anything at all
in his life, including a clean, dish or a pair of socks.

He, just like his associates, knew full well what everyone said about him.
He even knew it better than his father knew it. Once in a while the older
man would give his son a lecture about "Standing on your own two feet.
That's what it takes to gel somewhere in business. Show them that you're a
man and that you've got guts."

However, on those rare occasions when Ralph had questioned some position
on the company board which was supported by the older entrenched members
who had the power there, his father would slap him down immediately. Ralph
knew that there was no way he was ever going to stand on his own two feet
and that when his father said that it was just hollow.

But he didn't care too much. He had a heated pool and he had a sauna and a
whirlpool and a tennis court and he really didn't kill himself at work. He
worked just hard enough so that he felt it was respectable. But mostly he
liked to play. He liked to go out for wild weekends with his little sports
car. He liked to pick up girls who were willing to do a great deal in
return for an expensive and splashy weekend.

Actually, Ralph was an attractive guy. He was appealing to girls, but he
had never given himself a chance to discover that. He had only made it with
girls who (he figured) were obliged to put out for him since he had spent
so much on them. And, he got very huffy and snide when a girl refused to
put out for him even though he had spent money on her.

"Do you know what that restaurant cost me? You were never in such an
expensive restaurant before tonight!"

"Ralph. If you wanted a girl who would do it for money, you should have
gotten one who had a price tag on her."

The reason he still hadn't had any serious relationship with any girl was
that he was unable to think of any of them beyond that level. He had no
respect for the girls he saw and felt 'it was a give and take situation. He
spent money on them and took his sexual pleasure.

But, he was uneasy as he thought about the contest he had agreed to enter.
He had to find some woman, someone who was a hell of a woman, who he could
turn into a slave!

On the train up to Westchester he reviewed all of the young women he had
dated recently and his conquests. But he felt embarrassed over the notion
of playing Master over one of those females. After all, they knew him. They
knew where he worked. They knew his family.

For a moment he thought about finding some very anonymous woman, picking
up a woman in a bar. But that wouldn't be good either. He would probably
just get slapped by her.

It was only when he was finishing dinner that the obvious thought came to
him.

His parents weren't home that night. They had gone out to the West Coast
for a few days since his father had some business to take care of and his
mother wanted to shop in Beverly.

He was sitting in the palatial dining room all alone. His was the only
place that was set. And there was only one servant who was working. She had
cooked the dinner and she was serving him. Each time he finished a course
he reached his foot under the table and stepped on the buzzer.

She would come bustling into the room, a smile on her face, and pick up
his dish. Then she would return a moment later with something else. First
there was melon and ham. Then there was a bowl of cold red soup. "Just like
back at home," she said in her charming Swedish accent.

And then there was the squab with the sweet potato. Ralph insisted that,
even though she was only cooking for him that week, he wasn't going to
accept any compromise.

After the squab there was a fresh green salad with a light dressing and
finally there was coffee with some pastries that she had cooked that day.
She was quite a good maid.

"How long have you been with us, Elke?" he asked her, assessing her
beauty.

A maid! That was a servant. And wasn't a servant only one step away from a
slave?

"Almost one month now I have been in this country," she said with a smile.

"Almost one month," he said with an admiring nod of his head. "You speak
English very well."

"Oh, thank you. I study it for years and years. But I don't really know it
until I get here and have to speak it every day. You know?" She had a clear
white complexion. Her face was rounded and her very light blonde hair
was-curly and was clipped short.

Her eyes were large and, although pale blue, were accented with a very
dark eye make up. This was the only unusual thing about the girl. She
stayed in the room while he ate his salad. She was standing there and
holding a tray because he was asking her questions.

"How old are you now, Elke?" he asked her, looking up from his dish.

"I am twenty. This is a wonderful chance for me to get away from Sweden."

"You don't like it in Sweden?" he asked the girl, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh. It's fine. But that was the only, life I ever knew. I was a country
girl there. I wanted to go someplace different and coming to America ... It
is just perfect"

"And your visa is based on the fact that you're working for my family? Is
that it?"

"Yes. It is a working visa. I am so glad that your mother likes me. If she
did not like me they would have made me go back to Sweden right away and
that would not have been good."

"So," he asked as he pushed his empty salad plate away from him. 'What is
it you hope for?"

"I do not understand," she said, smiling even wider then.

"Do you want to work as a maid the rest of your life, or what?"

"Oh," she blushed a little. "I do painting. I want to study this in
America. But, meanwhile, I cannot afford to go to the schools yet. Your
mother knows about this."

"Admirable," he said. "You may bring my coffee into the parlor."

Ralph was definitely thinking of things in competitive terms. He wanted to
get the girl as if the were a touchdown in a football game. He merely had
to figure out a proper way to maneuver.

When she came to take away the coffee cup, he asked, "Back in Sweden
they're much more open about sex, aren't they. None of the girls have much
modesty, do they?"

"Oh, Mr. Ralph. You will make me blush," she said. He saw that she was
nervous as she hurried out of the room. She was also aware of the sexuality
of the situation between them.

It was close to ten and the girl was almost done in the kitchen, almost
ready to return to her quarters to the far side of the kitchen. She was the
only person on staff who was currently sleeping In. There was also a
laundress and a gardener and a daily maid who cleaned the upstairs after
this Swedish maid had finished making the beds and the immediate morning
chores after breakfast. And then there was the driver who drove Ralph's
father and the pool man who came to clean the pool.

But now the house was quiet but for the two of them, Ralph and Elke.

He walked up beside her and said, "I think we have to have a talk."

"Mr. Ralph, is something wrong?" She responded because he had sounded so
serous.

"Sit down." It was a command. Then he took some things out of his jacket
pocket. There was a silver lighter and a little silver cigarette case. They
usually stood on an end table in the living room. "Axe these objects at all
familiar to you, Elke?"

"Sir?" she asked, looking directly at him. Then she looked at the silver
pieces again and said, "I see those when I clean in the big grey room with
the white drapes."

"Perhaps you can explain why I found them in your room, Elke."

"In my room? Sir, these things were not in my room. They were never in my
room?"

"You deny that so vociferously, with so much enthusiasm, Elke."

"Vociferously? I do not know what this word means, sit."

"Elke, let's not play games. I found these missing yesterday. I know that
I shouldn't have gone into your room to look for anything. I know that was
an invasion of privacy. But I was hoping, really hoping, because you seemed
like such a sweet girl, that I wouldn't find them there."

"Sir?" the, girl said, still terribly confused. "What were they doing
there?"

"Oh, come off it, Elke. You seamed like such a sweet girl. But, you
weren't the first maid we've had here who stole things. I've almost come to
expect it. Hell. You're a country girl from Sweden and you want enough 
money so that you can go art school."

"No-o-o-o-o!" she cried out, standing up. "No. I did not ever steal in my
life."

Shaking his head and speaking in a soft voice, he said, "I doubt the
police will believe that."

"No-o-o-o-o!" she cried. "When did you go to my room? When was that
missing?"

"Now see ... here! I'm the one asking the questions here." He bullied her.

"Oh, please. This will ruin all that I work for. You must believe I did
not do it."

She fell back into the chair and although she didn't start to cry she
looked like she was right on the verge of breaking into tears. She looked
up at him, her eyes wide and moist.

He sighed softly and asked, "Should I call the police now?"

Elke didn't understand the question. The man was standing over her and
wasn't making any move to call the police or anything like that. She shook
her head. "Please don't."

"And if I don't, what will you do for me in return, Elke?" he asked with a
low groan in his voice.

"What will I ... ? I do not understand. What ... c-can I do for you?"

He looked up and down her sensually formed body. She had a well-curved and
extremely feminine body. Even though she was wearing the stark black dress
and the white apron of her profession she could not hide the rounded hips
and the full breasts that she had.

Ralph chuckled a little bit under his breath. "The first thing you can do
is take off your clothes."

"Mr. Ralph!" The girl's eyes popped open as she jumped up from her seat.

"You heard what I said. Now, are you going to cooperate or am I going to
call the police?"

Her breathing was thick and fast and her breasts were bouncing up and down
as she looked, intently at the man. "You invented this. You invented all 
this about the silver and the stealing so that you could tell me to take my
clothes off. You should be ashamed."

He stepped back toward the phone in the kitchen and asked, "Which will it
be?"

"What? What? You do not mean that you really will c-call the ... No. You
would not." Ralph picked up the phone and looked at a list of numbers in
front of him. The number for the police precinct was right there. He dialed
it and waited for a moment. "Yes. I'd like to issue a formal complaint
against someone for robbery ... No ... It's an employee of ..."

Before he could say anything more, the girl came up to his side and
slammed her fingers down on the receiver, disconnecting the call. She
looked at him and swallowed hard.

"How could you do such a thing to me. I never did anything to hurt you."

"That's not what life is about. It's not to our advantage," Ralph
pontificated, "to do things for revenge. It makes much more sense to do
things for gain. I wouldn't worry about hurting you if you ha hurt me ...
which I don't imagine you could, anyway.

"But, you have something I want. That's all human nature is about. We
fight wars for it and we struggle for it. We want to get what we want. I
want your body. No, I want more than that. I want more than your body,
Elke. I want to dominate you, to control you."

She was slowly stepping back away from him as she shook her head and said,
"Mr. Ralph, you are frightening me."

He grinned broadly then. "You have had sex with a man, child? You do know
what it's all about?"

Elke nodded her head slightly and then looked down at her hands. She was
standing there without any bonds on her, but she knew that she was his
victim as surely as she would have been if she had been shackled hand and
foot. He had a stronger bond that metal.

"Well, Elke, this is going to be different. This is going to take you a
little further. I don't want to have mere sex with you. I can do that with
any woman, any day of the week."

The beautiful Swedish girl was gritting her teeth as she listened to him.

"I want to dominate you. I want you to service me and to be my slave."

She stood up tall and proud. Merely her posture indicated defiance to the
man who continued, "So, first I want you to strip completely naked and then
I'll permit you to serve me."

The Swedish beauty peeled off her black dress and, a moment later, she
stood wearing her bra and panties along with the black step-in shoes which
were already worn down.

She kicked off the shoes and then struggled with her bra so that her
breasts could burst to freedom. The young man who was watching her licked
his lips. These tits were like possessions to him.

Then she reached into the clinging elastic waistband of her panties. She
shut her eyes as she peeled them off and then stood completely naked in
front of the man.

"Okay, slave!" he announced to the naked beauty. "Now I'll give you the
honor of serving my body. Now I'll permit you .to undress me." He stood in
the middle of the kitchen. "But, of course, you'll have to get down on your
knees in order to do it right."


CHAPTER THREE

Right there in the kitchen of the fancy mansion in Westchester, the
Swedish girl got to her knees. She didn't have any choice. Her hopes and
her future would have to depend on her obedience.

For, if she did not obey all of Ralph's commands, she would lose her job
and be deported.

The girl wanted to go to art school. She wanted to stay in America long
enough so that she could earn money and be able to pursue the dream. But
she knew that if Ralph carried out his threat and actually did call the
police to report her for stealing, there would be no way she could defend
herself. Deportation would then be the least of her worries.

And so, she felt the cold tiles of the kitchen floor pressing against her
bare knees.

She looked up at the handsome redheaded man, waiting for his next
instruction.

"You may undress me. I will grant you that honor." He chuckled a little
bit.

Elke reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his hard, well-muscled
chest. She was about to toss the shirt on the floor, but she looked up at
him and saw the reproving look in his eyes. Then she neatly folded the
shirt and placed it on a chair.

She bent forward so that she could unlace his heavy dark shoes and pull
them off. Then she pulled down his socks. As she was holding his left foot
in her hand and taking off his shoe, the young man hissed, "Kiss it lick my
toes. Show me you're my slave."

Elke paused She knew she would have to do it. Pausing was the only bit of
resistance she dared to show. She leaned her face forward and pressed her
bps lightly against his big toe. Then she licked at the toe with just the
tip of her tongue.

He hadn't had his shoes off since that morning. His toes were grubby and
mucky and there was a lot of stickiness between them. "Get your tongue in
there and really slobber all that muck out of there."

The luscious blonde girl pressed her mouth against his foot and she sucked
hard and long on the flesh of his toes. She took the full big toe in her
mouth and really sucked the juice right out of the flesh. Her tongue worked
between that toe and then the next and after that she was weaving her
tongue through the network of toes that braided one after the other.

She sucked on each of the individual little bits of flesh and she worked
her tongue over the toenails that were there. While she was doing that, the
man was opening his belt and the single button at the top of his fly. Then
he grabbed the girl by her short blonde hair.

Elke pulled her face up so that she was looking at him. "Okay. Now open my
pants."

She understood what he wanted. She wasn't about to use her hands on his
pants. She knew that would have been forbidden. She was really coming to
look upon this man as a Master.

And so, he was very pleased when her lips made contact with the silver tab
on the zipper. She wrapped her lips around that bit of silver and she
pulled on it so that his pants opened. In opening the pants she revealed
his undershorts beneath them. Somehow she managed to get a good grip on the
zipper right at the outset and that really helped her to get the zipper
with one pull.

Once she had gotten the zipper to the bottom of its track the pants were
loose enough so that they slid down to the man's thighs, revealing his
undershorts and the stiff erection inside those shorts. She looked directly
at the front of the underpants and swallowed hard.

"Kiss it ... Come on. Right through the fabric. I want you to kiss it."

She pressed her bps against the protruding spot on the front of the shorts
and she felt it pushing hard against her mouth in response. Then there was
a moist spot on the front of the underpants which was left by the
excitement that coursed up the length of the dick.

"I give you permission, lowly slave, to take down my underpants with your
teeth."

First she pushed down his pants and then she wrapped her bps around the
clinging waistband of his undershorts. But, as the pulled on the front of
the shorts she only seemed to be releasing the stiff dick that wanted to be
angled up It was protruding out farther.

So it seemed that no matter how far she could pull the clinging elastic of
the waistband she couldn't pull it out farther than the dick was going to
stretch out. Her upper lip was already curled inside out and was rubbing in
the pubic patch, being scratched, when she lost her toothy grip on the
undershorts and they snapped back almost to their original position.

"If you can't do better than that, perhaps you need a bit of
encouragement."

He pulled the leather belt out of the loops on his pants and quickly
doubled it over in his hand. He held the end that had the belt buckle so
that there was a loop made out of the rest of the belt.

Then he slapped the looped portion of the belt against his open palm.

"I will start counting, slave. You will get one lash across your naked ass
cheeks for each number that I manage to count without you managing to get
my underpants down."

This terrified Elke and she looked at the man's crotch more intently,
trying to figure out the correct logistics of getting his underpants down
with her teeth. Then she moved to the side of his body and she pulled on
the undershorts there. They tugged all the way down the side of his slim
hip. She moved to the other side and tugged there. But then moved around
behind him. She grabbed the waistband of the undershorts from behind as he 
counted up to three.

The girl only achieved a tiny bit of vengeance by rubbing her upper teeth
against the hard, muscled flesh of the young man's ass cheeks as she got
her mouth into position to pull on his shorts.

"Four!" he announced, assigning her that extra lash very quickly.

But, she already had the back of the underpants in her mouth and she was
able to pull it down around the nearly flat curve of his ass cheeks. Then
she moved around to the front of him. The underpants now only seemed to be
covering his dick with most of his pubic patch showing.

Ralph saw the girl, still on her knees, crawling to the front of his body
and he intoned, "Five."

Her lips slid along his cock, tugging on the cotton of his shorts, as he
said, "Six!"

And then she tugged the shorts down his legs. His cock was at full mast.
Just as his underpants were about to come down around his ankles, Ralph
very quickly said, "Seven."

She looked up at him and he softly said, "That's seven lashes with the
belt." He played with the loop of leather against his open palm, almost as
if he were honing it for the attack.

He motioned with his head toward the servants quarters and said, "In your
room."

The girl started to get up from her knees, but he pushed down on her
shoulders and said, "Stay, slave."

She turned around, still on her knees, and she crawled toward her
quarters. She went through the pantry that was next to the kitchen and then
she went into a hallway. There was a bathroom and two little bedrooms along
that hallway. Only one bedroom was occupied and that was hers.

It was a small room with only a dresser and a chair and a studio couch
which was a single bed when the bolsters were removed. But, even when the
bolsters were removed there was a wooden frame that was the back of the
couch. When they entered the room, the man tossed both of the bolsters from
the bed. There was a brown covering on it that made it pass for a couch
during the day.

"Get up on there. Get up on your knees with your hands over the back of 
it."

Elke slowly followed his instruction. She had her knees on a comfortable
surface now but she knew that this position was chosen because of the
availability of her ass to him. She looked over her shoulder as the naked
man wielding the belt in one hand pulled the sash from one of the curtains.
The sash was a long piece of cloth that had been looped around to hold the
curtain open. He leaned over the couch and wrapped the piece of cloth
around both of Elke's wrists. In spite of the fact that she had been
cooperative, he didn't want to take a chance with her.

He made a figure eight with the cloth and then wrapped it one more time
around the girl's wrists so that they were firmly bound together. Then she
pulled the cloth twice around the wooden post that ran across the back of
the studio couch.

Elke's hands were firmly in place there. She was bowed forward and that
made her ass just out a little bit further. She was still on her knees on
the couch and looking over her shoulder.

And then he raised the leather belt up in the air and slapped it down hard
across both cheeks of her, ass. She screamed out loud, knowing full well
that no one could hear her.

Then, before the echo of her scream had even subsided, the belt slapped
down from the other direction, moving on the backswing. Her entire body
started to suddenly vibrate.

She couldn't get her breathing under control. Her screaming stopped short.

The third lash of the leather strap was the worst one yet because it
intersected the first two. Where it crossed the marks that had already been
left there were little spots that would become welts.

"That was three!" Ralph snarled as if he were giving the luscious blonde a
piece of news.

He gave her a moment to rest. It was a moment that permitted the cheeks of
her ass to relax, that let the pain cool off just a little bit. Her
breathing was back to normal and she was calmer because she realized that
the immediate pain was the worst.

And just when Ralph was aware that she had cooled off, that she was
feeling a little better, he slapped the leather Strap across her ass cheeks
once again. She screamed out once more.

There was a deep, throaty laugh from Ralph. He was toying with her.

The leather strap made a whistling sound the next time it sliced through
the air. Then it ripped across the flesh and left another red mark on the
two creamy cheeks.

"That was five. There are only two more to go," he said in a sensual
whisper.

He was lightly rubbing the leather belt across the cheeks of her ass,
sliding the sharp edge of it right along the crack of her ass. He was
making her flesh tingle with anticipation because of the way he was playing
with her, teasing her, with the leather belt.

And then, just when she didn't expect it, he pulled the leather belt
quickly away from her flesh and raised it up again. He described a
complete, arc through the air and when the circle ended. It slid right
through the cheeks of her ass. She felt the burning even more then.

"Yes!" he said, letting the word disappear into a laugh as he dangled the
leather belt right over the cheeks of her ass and tickled the flesh with
the same weapon that had abused it.

"This time ... you tell me when you're ready for number seven, slave."

Her breathing was harsh and irregular as she remained there, feeling the
tickling sensation. "You tell me to give you number seven, slave. You tell
me when you're ready for it?"

She knew that he meant it, but she couldn't get the cheeks of her ass to
relax and be prepared for the final lash of the leather strap. What he was
saying was that she should choose the instant when she was going to feel
the final lash of the leather belt."

But, since the anticipation of the event was a separate torture in and of
itself, when she had to choose the moment she was filled with nothing but
anticipation. Her flesh started to quiver.

"Do you want more punishment for not obeying this command, Slave?"

"I ... I don't know wh-wh-what to s-ssay ... " she gasped.

"Say 'Now' when you're ready for lash number seven. Say 'Now, sir' to show
deference."

Elke didn't want to look over her shoulder. Her breathing was irregular as
she swallowed hard and said, "Now, sir." She held her breath and waited for
the sound of the whistling and for the feeling of the air rushing at her
ass cheeks and of the burning lash of the belt.

But nothing happened. She finally took a breath. She looked over her
shoulder. The naked man was smiling at her as he saw the concern on her
face. She saw that he was holding the leather belt in position so that he
could strike her, but that his muscles were completely relaxed.

Once again he had been teasing her. He had brought her up to a high
emotional pitch where she had actually tried to prepare herself for
receiving the final lash of punishment across her bruised cheeks. And in
that way he had drawn out the punishment for the luscious blonde girl.

Then, as she was looking at him, Just as she was about to open her mouth
to speak, he slammed the leather belt, down across the cheeks of her ass
and she screamed out.

"Oooow! Y-you said for me t-t-t .t-t-tell you wh-when ... oh ... t-t-to
... "

"Do you think I would listen to a slave?" he asked with a cruel laugh.

She tugged at her bonds and realized that he had really tied her well to
the back of the studio sofa. She wasn't going to be getting off that for
some time.

Then he started to lash at her ass cheeks with the leather belt. Time
after time after lime he was leaving more and more stripes across the
cheeks of her ass. She squirmed and wriggled and he was soon holding her
down in place with his body as he slapped first one cheek and then the
other cheek, never quite able to get to both of them at once.

Elke was crying. "Haven't you done enough to me now? Isn't this enough?"

"You didn't say Master and you didn't say sir. You'll be punished for
that."

He pulled her ass back up in the air again so that he had a good shot at
it. She was already tensed up. He brushed his fingers between her legs and
pressed them against the delicate lips of her cunt. He fingered the pussy
and pushed the tips of his fingers against the depths of her twat.

And then he positioned himself with his cock head right up against the
delicate lips of the cunt He was going to enter her backwards with the
bottom of his cock rubbing against her clit instead of the flared head of 
his dick in that position. This was something different for Elke. She felt
as if she were being treated like an animal, bound in that position on her
knees.

That was exactly the way Ralph wanted her to feel. She was being treated
like an animal.

He pressed the flared head of his dick forward so that it was lodged
between the outer labia. He could feel the moist lips of her cunt wrapping
themselves around that broad mushroom cock head. Then he pushed forward and
he felt his piss slit making contact with the clinging interior lips of the
cunt. He pressed forward and his cock head pushed inside the hot cunt. The
inner labia spread open for him and then the moist flesh was pressing and
squeezing against his cock head.

He pushed forward and the head of his cock sank into the depths of the
pussy.

Then he gave one hearty push forward and the very base of his cock was
pressing tight up against the lips of the pussy. The stiffness was
spreading open the cunt lips.

His balls were dangling down and brushing against her pussy patch and her
cunt lips. The hard washboard muscles of his stomach were pressed right up
against the fleshy cheeks of her ass.

He pulled back a little bit and found that she was already a little moist
due to the whipping he had given her. Then he pushed forward. He pulled
back and pushed forward.

In spite of herself she could feel the stiff flesh that pushed her
clitoris inwards and then tugged it out again. In and out there was a
constant movement of her hot love button.

She was burning up from the excitement in her body. And the cock was still
pushing and pulling in and out like that. And he was burning up because of
the heat in his rod.

While his dick was massaging the flesh of her cunt walls, her cunt walls
were massaging the stiffness of his cock. The flared head was brushing up
and down against the hot flesh that surrounded his prong, that wrapped
itself around the stiffness of his dick.

He shoved forward and then pulled backwards. Each time he pulled back her
cunt flesh had a chance to wrap itself closed around the space he had just
vacated. And then when he pushed forward he was jabbing at the delicate and
spongy flesh with the powerful thrust.

It seemed to Elke that her whole body was perspiring from the effort to
pull free of her bonds. He was holding onto her, holding her hips in place
and fucking her like crazy.

She felt the speed with which his cock was moving in and out of her. In
and out and in and out. She was going mad with passion from the movement of
his hard erection.

And then he pushed forward and she knew that it was different. She could
tell that this was the last one.

There was a great deal of power, a great deal of force behind the final
thrust of the cock. She felt, the suction grip of her own body that was
holding him in place even as his erect prick slapped up against the depths
of her pussy and shot out a load of hot spunk.

As soon as the first hot blast sizzled along the depths of her cunt she
felt her pussy flesh responding with a thrust of equal force. Her cunt
pulled taut around the stiff erection.

There was a sudden flow of wetness that soothed Ralph's dick and even
urged more juice out of it. Then the two of them were locked together in
the flow of hot orgasmic lust.

Slowly he started to work his dick out of her hot hole. He was pulling
backwards and finally there was a lewd noise as his cock came free and
there was dripping down her legs.

Ralph was chuckling as he was untying Elke. She was trying not to look at
him.

He tossed the curtain sash on the floor and then he stroked her body. She
pulled away from him, but he grabbed her wrists in his one hand as he
hissed, "Don't forget."

"What? What shouldn't I forget?" she asked, close to tears.

He nodded and chuckled as he let go of her wrists and said, "It will be
good to know that I have a slave right here in the house ... so convenient
for me."

Ralph was still chuckling as he turned and left the maid's room. Elke was
weeping by that time. She had been degraded and humiliated, all for the
pleasure of this selfish man.

Weber, having fucked the subservient girl in the back room of the
bookstore, pulled his dick out of her cunt and she fell to her knees in
front of him again. He was fully dressed except for his exposed cock and
she took that in her mouth to lick it off immediately.

He smiled. He wasn't sure how to treat her, but he decided that the one
thing he couldn't do was worry about how to treat her. It would be
confidence that would win the day here.

Weber slid her face off his dick and stuffed his penis away as ha asked
her, "What's your name?"

"Wanda," she said, not adding any term of deference to him.

"Wanda ..." he said thoughtfully as he tried to create the rest of that
sentence. "Do you think you deserve to be my slave?" he asked her, knowing
that her answer would tell him a great deal.

She bowed her head as she said, "Oh, sir, I could try. I'll would do my
best."

"How much longer do you work here tonight, Wanda?" Weber asked.

She looked up at him again and said, "Until seven tonight, sir." She knew
now that he wanted her as a slave and so she used proper in speaking to
him.

Nodding his head, he said, "I'll be here for you at seven. Be ready."

"Sir," she said, biting her lower lip. "I know this is impudence of me,
sir, but as a woman alone in the city I have to be careful. I ... uh,
wouldn't go anywhere with you. I wouldn't go back to your apartment with
you. Doing it here in the store was one thing because ... well, sir, I
could have called ... for ... help if you had done anything I didn't like.
But ... Her eyes met his. "I hope you understand, air."

"Would you like to see me again? Just answer," he said with absolute
confidence.

She nodded her head and was silent.

"In that case I'll be here at seven and we'll go out somewhere so that we
can talk, so that you can find out all you need to know and I can find out
all I need to know, so that you can feel secure that ... " He grinned but
hardly meant it as a joke. "You should feel secure that I'm not a hatchet 
murderer."

"Thank you, sir," she said, kissing his hand with great passion ...

"Now get dressed and be ready at seven ... slave ... " He left her there.

Wanda was ready for him at seven. He took her to a nice restaurant where
they could have a good deal of privacy at the table. She ended up doing
most of the talking, prodded by him.

"How long have you been turned on by the idea of bondage and submission?"
he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders and said, "Who can count that far. Maybe
sometime I'll tell you about my earlier experiences, about my earlier
fantasies, but now ... "

Wanda didn't ask him any questions that personal. He took that to mean
that either she didn't want to know the truth, feeling content with her own
fantasies of what she believed him to be, what she wanted him to fulfill,
or else that she didn't dare to ask him.

Either way he knew it wouldn't be wise to shatter her fantasies by telling
her anything about that side of himself.

He did make her feel more confident and secure with him by telling her
about his family and about his job. And he did reveal the fact that he
didn't have that much experience with people into submission and mastery
simply because of the way he was asking her about herself.

"Do you find that being a slave, sexually makes you feel degraded in
life?"

She paused and then said, "Sex is one part of my life ... It's a big part
of my life and a part I can't deny. I'll tell you this. I feel better about
myself now that, I can admit the truth about what I want and what I like
and now that I'm letting myself enjoy these things rather than just feeling
terrible guilt about them than I felt when I was trying to fight the truth,
when I was trying to deny who I was. I would say that being a slave, having
the courage to admit that I want to be a slave, and having the strength to
act on my fantasy and to live the fantasy I had dreamed for so long... that
was certainly an improvement in my life." When the girl said that Weber
knew already that he liked her. There was something very honest, very
sweet, and endearing about Wanda.

She was just what she was with no pretenses and no games about it. And 
when he clutched both of her hands in both of his and squeezed them she
sighed, "You're kind."

"You deserve it," he said in reply, his voice very soft as he lightly
slapped her hands and smiled. "But, you're also going to get quite a
variety of treatment from me ... slave."

That night Weber went home and managed to read all of the books about
sado-masochistic behavior before going to bed. He distraught then and
couldn't sleep.

He had felt so good with Wanda. He enjoyed everything about her,
especially her honest sexuality, but the books were all very judgmental and
made him feel that he was dome something terribly wrong. They made him feel
absolutely filthy about his desires and about himself.


CHAPTER FOUR

The next day the four young business executives did not play cards during
their lunch break.

There was a great deal of silence. They looked at each other with
suspicion.

"So, Barney?" Arthur said, smirking a little bit. "How did you do
yesterday?"

"Yesterday?" the black stud asked. "What do you mean?"

"The contest. Don't try to act cute with me. You knew what I meant."

"Oh, the contest. Well," Barney laughed, taking on a role of mock bravado.
"There's time."

"Yeah. There's time," Arthur said. "But I'm pretty well pleased with my
progress."

"Well, I'm all finished and ready for the contest," Ralph said, thinking
about the tall Swedish maid he had humiliated the previous night. "And let
me tell you boys, she's some piece."

"What about you, Weber? How are you doing?" Arthur asked, with almost a
taunt in his voice.

Weber spoke in a soft voice as he looked around the table and asked,
"Would anyone like to double the bet?"

"From one hundred to two?" Ralph said quickly. Everyone at the table
laughed. They couldn't believe that this offer had come from Weber, of all
people the quiet intellectual one.

"I'm sure willing to go up to the two on this one," Ralph said.

"What kind of girl did you find for yourself, Weber?" Arthur asked.

Weber blushed then and said, "I don't need to talk about it."

"Come on, Arthur!" Ralph taunted, feeling secure about the money. "Afraid
you'll lose?"

"I'm in. What about Barney over here?" Arthur snapped quickly.

"Now hold on. Two hundred is a lot of money for me to put up all at once
...

"If you can't hack it, Barney, why don't you just fork over the one
hundred and drop out of the contest?"

"Don't worry. I'm in the contest till the end and I'm gonna win the whole
pot."

And so, as of the end of the lunch break, none of them were speaking to
each other at all. When they started to leave the executive lounge they all
ran directly into Ms. Craig and Mr. Elgin. "How nice, I was just looking
for you men. I want to make an announcement to all of you together. That
includes Ms. Craig here. I wanted to get something very clear and direct
with all of you."

They knew that Mr. Elgin was a great one for beating around the bush. They
all stood in the hail and prepared to hear him out. "The reason I wanted to
make this all so fair, announcing it to all of you at once, as it were, is
that I didn't want to be accused of showing any sign of favoritism or
tipping my hat, as it were.

"Within a week one of you will be the new vice president in charge of
administration."

"You mean," Arthur said, "that Mr. Popkin is leaving the company?"

"Mr. Popkin is taking over the London office. This is a sudden emergency.
Mr. Lang who ran the London office had a very sudden heart attack just last
night ... Well, last night London time. So, since they were right in the
middle of that merger with the people at Lloyd and Sydney so that we could
cover all of Europe, they sent Popkin off to London already. He didn't even
have time to pack. It's quite a juicy promotion for him and I don't mind
letting you young people know that I surely wouldn't have minded it."

"So, you said that within a week we would know which of us it was?" Ralph
insisted.

Mr. Elgin nodded his head and said, "So, you understand that after the
board meeting which begins next Wednesday and might carry over to Thursday,
one, of you will be my equal."

All of them considered Mr. Elgin an odious individual and were
collectively disturbed to think of themselves as being his equal. But all
of them smiled in unison and then shook hands with each other and wished
each other luck. Any one of them would have cut the throats of the others
in order to achieve the goal of that job, that plum spot.

The person who was in charge of all the administrative functions of the
company was a power there who was in charge of all the staff there.
Everyone had to be nice to him.

He was also the person who was in charge of all the junior executives.
That meant that one of them, within the week, would be the supervisor of
all the others.

There was definitely a great deal of tension between the men that
afternoon. And when all of them left the building at five there was a great
deal of tension that they all needed to release.

Arthur had a date that night with Eleanore Finn, the young woman he had
met in the storefront. He knew that he was toying with her, that it was all
part of the game. He wanted her as his entry into that sweepstakes of tamed
females. But, as of this point, six days before the deadline, Eleanore
hadn't ever confessed to any fantasies of bondage and domination.

It would take one hell of a lot of seduction to move that stony lady.

When Eleanore saw Arthur arrive at the storefront of L.A.F.F., she smiled
and he saw her response. He paused. He didn't want to do harm to the girl,
not real harm. He knew that her emotions were getting involved and he
didn't want to hurt her in that way.

"I see you have a new poster here. Did this just come in?"

"Yes. That's for the rally we're going to hold. There's a march also."

"How nice ... And what do you expect that rally and march to accomplish?"

"Why ... it will bring people's attention to the problem. It will focus
the attention of politicians to the plight of this area, and to the... the
smut... around here."

Her voice always started to quiver as soon as she got to any word like
'smut' or any sexual reference.

"Okay," he said, nodding his head. "Now remember that I'm just playing
devil's advocate here" He smiled to make sure she knew that he didn't want
to threaten her. "But, let me just ask you this. What do you want this
public attention to do? Do you just want the politicians to come to your
rally and to spout off about how much they support you or is there
something constructive they can, do?"

"I want them to, we want them to close down all the smut shops in the
city."

"Oh," Arthur said, raising his eyebrows and considering that for a
thoughtful moment "Now, of course I'm only playing the devil's advocate
here." Another smile this time with even more teeth than before "But, what
happens to a guy let's say his wife has left. him And he works hard in a
Job. He's tired when he comes home from work. He doesn't have the energy to
go out to bars and places where he can meet girls. He doesn't have the,
money to really entertain girls or to even pay for prostitutes and he
wants.

"We also want them to wipe all the prostitutes off the street."

"Forget I said anything about prostitutes," he almost shouted at her.
"What I'm asking you is about this poor guy, this hard-working shmuck who
doesn't have anyone to take care of him when he's horny. Shouldn't he be
able to go out and plunk down a couple of bucks for a sexy book so that he
can go home and jerk off over it and relieve his tensions?"

She stood up from her seat, looking, very indignant, and said, "I'll have
you know that I have right here a study which shows that these so-called
erotic novels have been found in the homes of rapists. How do you like
that?" It was clear that she was being huffy.

He smiled and said, "Eleanore, do you know how many of those so-called 
erotic novels have been found in the homes of nice couples with little
suburban houses on Long Island? How many have been found in the homes of
carpenters, plumbers, teachers, waiters, secretaries, bank presidents, and
senior citizens? And what about the kids, the young guy who just turned
eighteen and has a constant case of active glands? He's turned on just for
a chance to read one of those books. He's turned on just by the sight of
the words n print."

"Pardon me, Mr. Barone, but the age is twenty-one. I hope no
eighteen-year-old set eyes on such filth."

"Oh, I didn't mean anything by picking out that example. Hey, what's with
the Mr. Barone stuff? Are you mad at me or something, Eleanore? What's
wrong?"

"What's wrong? You're questioning our cause and the very fundamentals of
... "

"Oooh! Eleanore, really. I told you that I was always the devil's
advocate." He smiled and laughed but could tell that she tensed up when he
touched her on the arm. She was on the defensive.

But he worked the defenses down during dinner. He pampered her and gave
her a great deal of wine. When it was time for coffee he asked her what
flavors she liked. She told him that she liked nuts and he ordered coffee
for her with amoretto in it and whipped cream on top.

She had taken a little more care about her looks that day. It was clear
that she a ways dressed in plain and modest attire, but even that couldn't
hide her natural beauty.

It was the clear white skin and the sculpted features that made her look
like a patrician, a member of royalty. Her reddish-blonde hair was
absolutely straight and very long.

During dinner he brought up sexual subjects often. They always made
Eleanore uncomfortable and yet she would usually say something like, "Oh, I
believe that, as a modern woman, I have to just relax and let things happen
in my own private life. I mean, I believe in public morality, but I don't
believe that there should be a double standard. N'est-ce pas?"

"Certainly," he said, patronizing her without her realizing it. He clasped
her hands in his and continued, "Can I stop off at your apartment for a
little while?"

"Certainly. We're both adults. There's nothing wrong with you coming to my
apartment."

He couldn't help smiling then. Although she was saying that there was
nothing wrong with that her voice did not sound like she meant it. There
was almost a hysterical note in her voice as she quivered a little bit. She
was also talking too loud ...

They went back to, her apartment and he knew that he would have to work
his way slowly up to the sex act with this girl. If he went too fast she
would use that as an excuse for turning away from him. He could tell from
the nervousness and fear she expressed that she was looking for such an
excuse, that she was just waiting for such an excuse as that.

So he gave her a little more wine from her own refrigerator and then they
settled in together on the couch. He started to kiss her tenderly and then
he was using his tongue down her neck. He opened the top buttons on her
blouse as he worked his tongue down her flesh.

She was wearing a very trim bra which permitted him to get his tongue all
over the breast except for the actual nipple. He could see the nipple
through the sheer fabric though and he licked it through the fabric.

Eleanore had never been treated this way before. None of her previous men
had known as much about foreplay and about slowly pleasing a woman. She was
used to men who would talk her into getting undressed as they were kissing
her. But now she was being stripped while he was making love to her.

She was used to getting up from the couch and going into the bedroom with
the man and then taking her clothes off and climbing under the blanket
before taking off her bra and panties. She wasn't used to having the sex
act continue through everything.

But Arthur knew what he was doing. He couldn't give her a chance to break
the mood. The intensity would be growing like a snowball as long as he
could keep her from stopping it. And when the intensity grew in that way
the girl would be too intimidated to try to stop it.

He was peeling the blouse back off her anus and planting kisses all along
the exposed flesh.

Then he sucked on her fits through the fabric of her bra. She tensed up
and seemed like she was going to say something, so he moved quickly upwards
and pressed his lips hungrily against hers.

Her mouth opened and welcomed the invasion of his tongue against hers.

By that time he was on top of her on the couch. She had one arm around his
neck and the other arm hanging at the side of the couch. He put his left
hand on her left wrist and just kept it there. It wasn't as though he was
actually holding her down, but he was holding her.

Then he took her right hand from around his neck and he held her right
wrist with his band. He held the hand in place on the pillow next to her
head. He was grinding himself down on top of her. His dick was fully erect
and he was rubbing it against her body through the fabric of their clothes.

She was responding very sensually then. She was bumping her hips against
his body and she was sighing. Her body was writhing. It was a struggle and
yet it wasn't a struggler to sincerely get away from him. If she bad wanted
to do that she could have.

It was more like a struggle of one part of her body against the other. She
moved beneath the man and her wet pussy thrust up when her legs spread so
that she was pressing herself against him.

He knew what was turning her on even though he knew she couldn't admit to
it. The girl was hot and aroused over the fact that he was holding her
hands in place. That was a form of bondage. He was pinning her to the bed.
She could imagine she was being raped.

And that was just what was going on in her head at the time.

He had found out what he wanted to find out. She liked bondage but didn't
know it. He knew that he would have to take her along very slowly and very
carefully, get her very turned on.

He freed one of her hands as he reached down for her skirt and opened the
side zipper. He was not tugging the skirt down her legs but rather working
it slowly down her legs as he moved his fingers in a circular motion around
and around on the flesh.

Then the skirt was tossed off and she was stripped to her bra and her
panties.

He brushed his fingers over the nipples that were hidden inside the bra.
He could feel, through the fabric, the tits growing longer and harder as
they got erect under his touch.

She did not resist when one of his hands moved to her back to open the
bra, deftly, expertly. He slid the bra down her arms and then, with her
arms in front of her, he held the bra in place at her wrists, twisting it
around both of her wrists like a bondage device.

That way he was holding both of her wrists in place. The stretchy fabric
of the bra was clinging around both of her wrists and he was able to hold
onto the fabric with one hand.

She was virtually his captive that way. He was introducing her to bondage
without actually giving that act a name, without actually telling her about
what they were doing.

As he held onto the bra that was binding her wrists together, he leaned
down and grasped one of her newly exposed nipples with his lips. He sucked
and licked at that tit.

Then, he started to lick a great deal at that left nipple, working his
tongue around and around on the flesh, flicking it upwards and then back
down again. Then he grasped it with his teeth. He was grinding his teeth
against the delicate bit of flesh.

Harder and harder his teeth were moving from side to side like two blades
of some cutting device.

He heard the girl gasp and he knew that the very next instant she was
going to cry out and tell him to stop. He couldn't let that happen. That
would have impinged on his authority.

And so, he was sensitive, he was very aware of her feelings. He took her
right to the edge of the cliff and he let her teeter there before pulling
her back.

The anticipation, the fear of falling over the edge of ultimate pleasure
and pain was all.

Just when he stopped biting her tit he brought his lips about an inch away
from her flesh and be started to blow a light breeze of air on the delicate
flesh of the tit.

She was moaning and she was arching her body up and pushing her breast
toward his mouth. But he knew what he was doing. Her nipple was wet from
his saliva and it was sensitive from the biting. By blowing on the wet
surface he was causing a chill that went through her whole body.

Then she started to shiver. She was tingling all over and she couldn't
help herself.

Just when he knew that she was going to cry out because the teasing had
gone on too long he wrapped his lips well around the exposed nipple and 
sucked lightly on the flesh.

She was sighing contentedly. He was still holding her hands in place with
the bra as an implement of bondage for her. He had been able to feel the
tension in her arms when he was biting her tit and then when he was blowing
on her breast. That was one of the ways he had been able to tell when to
stop.

When she was moaning she actually spread her legs apart and was humping up
against his body, trying to get her legs around one of his so that she
could press her wet and hungry pussy lips against his hard and hot body. He
sensed that and knew that she was ready for a change of attitude in him.

Arthur knew that in order to dominate a woman, especially a woman who was
so frightened of domination as Eleanore was, he had to stay in control at
all times. He couldn't lose himself in the wild hungers of the moment. He
knew that his appetite would be satisfied much more if he went slowly.

He had to string her along until she was so hot that she had to go along
with him.

It was when she was pressing her body up against his that he pulled away
slowly and asked, "Are you okay?" This was expressing concern for her and
she looked at him with a warm glow in her eyes ... It meant something that
he was expressing concern for her.

And yet his words had been spoken as a sensual whisper. He still hadn't
broken the sexual tone in the room. She smiled up at him as he released her
hands and took her bra all the way off her arms.

He lifted her up in his arms. She was startled by that and almost started
to laugh nervously but he kissed her fully on the lips and started to carry
her into the other room.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. He was really taking charge. He
placed her gently on the bed and then he climbed on top of her. This was
going to be quite a process to turn this frightened young woman into his
willing sex slave. He climbed on top of her.

His hands were all over her as he looked into her eyes. He was feeling the
smooth white flesh that was so soft, so perfectly curved and sensually
formed under his fingers. Then he reached into the clinging top of her
panties and he could feel the wispy patch of pussy hairs there. He brushed
his fingers over the delicate hairs and pressed his hips down a little
harder.

Then he was immediately peeling her panties down her legs so that she was
completely naked.

He was looking deep into her eyes as he fingered his finger right back and
forth over her cunt lips. He could feel the moisture and he could feel the
way he was quivering.

Arthur knew that she wanted him to continue and so he stopped just then,
very suddenly. There was a disappointed expression on her face, but he had
to teach her something about pleasure. He had to teach her that if he was
going to think of her pleasure then she had to think of his pleasure as
well. He slowly rolled off her body and said, "Now you can undress me."

"I ... what?" she mumbled and yet it was enough to break the sexual mood.

He felt that right away and was disappointed. He had given the girl the
chance she had been waiting for. In an instant she was sitting with her
knees pulled up to her chest and her arms around her legs, in a position
that was completely defensive.

"I'd like you to undress me," he said with deep sincerity as he took one
of her hands.

She tensed up and pulled her hand away from him. She giggled from
nervousness as she said, "Oh, you're old enough to undress yourself,
Arthur." She looked away from him.

"Look in my eyes. Come on," Arthur said. "I want you to meet my eyes."
When she still didn't meet his eyes he said, "I want you to be able to look
me in the eyes or else I'll leave now. If you don't want to look me in the
eyes then you don't want me here."

She looked right into his eyes. She had acted petulant and moody and
particular with other men who had taken her to bed and none of them had
ever, ever threatened to leave without fucking her. Fucking her had always
been primary to them so that was where they placed the value. But, Arthur
waited more than that. He wanted to really dominate the girl.

In order to dominate, he had to be completely dominant. He had to be in
charge. If he threatened to leave there unless she met his eyes, that
really put him in charge.

Also, the girl was very touched by the sweetness of the whole thing. She
was touched by the fact that the man had cared so much about her being able
to look him in the eyes. However, although she thought of looking him in
his eyes as meaning her trust for him, he had something a little bit more 
devious in mind. He thought of domination. He would be able to intimidate
her better if she was looking right in his eyes.

And so he had her where he wanted her. "There now. Isn't that better?"

"Yes. Thank you." Then she looked away again as she said, "I'm sorry."

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" he asked. In a different situation
he might have placated her and told her not to be sorry about anything,
that she had nothing to apologize for. But, in this situation he wanted to
cultivate that side of her.

"Wrong? I just need time to get to know you," she said, sitting up and
turning away from him.

He was running his fingers down her naked back as he said, "Good. I'd like
to get to know you as well. But I'd like to be naked together with you. You
don't mind that?"

"Wh-why should I mind it?" she asked. "I'm an adult woman."

"Oh, good. Now, I took off your clothes and gave pleasure to your body
because giving pleasure like that makes me feel good. Okay? I hope you want
to return the pleasure to me. It means a great deal to me that you be ...
unselfish with your fantasies."

The girl didn't know what that meant but she embraced the man and then she
nervously started to undress him. It wasn't anything like the way he had
worked on taking her clothes off her body. She was just undressing him as
if it were a chore. But he was satisfied.

He hadn't backed down on his request, on his demand, of the girl. He was
naked next to her on the bed.

"Just lean forward," he said as he started to massage her neck and then
worked his way along her back. "Why don't you tell me a little about
yourself."

"I told you so much over dinner. I can't think of what to tell you in bed,
naked."

"Well," he said, speaking as if it were off the top of his head when, all
the time, he was saying words he had planned to say. "Why don't you tell me
about something that has some relevance to where we are in bed, naked?" His
fingers moved to her breasts and she tensed up.

"Oh, I'm not the kind of girl who'd kiss and tell." She laughed stupidly.

He accepted that response as the one she had to make just then. She was
terrified.

"I ... I don't know ... " she mumbled softly as she started to moan
sexually.

Her voice was taking on a sexual inflection, a note that told him that she
was accepting what was happening, that she was contributing to the
sexuality of the moment. She couldn't help herself.

The girl felt that she was being swept along on the sea of passions ...

"You know what you're thinking of now," he said, taking on a tone like a
stern father. "You're thinking about something sexy. You're thinking about
something that's exciting you."

"I'm thinking about your hands," she said, nervously clutching his hands.

He was planting little kisses on one of her ears, having brushed her hair
back out of the way. "That's not it. You're in some scene. Who am I? In
your head right now, who am I"

"Oh, no," she tensed up, laughing a little nervously. "I'm thinking of
you. I wouldn't think of anyone else."

"Yes, you're thinking of me. But, are you thinking about Arthur, the
advertising executive or ... are you seeing me and thinking that I might be
someone else. I might be anyone."

"Anyone." It was clear that there was a little bit of a thrill in her
voice ...

"Your mind, Eleanore. We aren't mere animals who respond with our .
bodies." Although he was saying so much, he was holding her and stroking
her and his tone of voice was soft and smooth as velvet against velvet He
was seducing her with the words as he massaged her shoulders.

"There's more to us than our sex organs." He knew that this argument would
appeal to her way of thinking. She had no notion of the way in which it
would spring back at her. "It's up to us to use more than just our bodies
when we're together like this. I have fantasies?'

He turned her face so that he could look into her eyes. "Your mind is too
bright and alive. I know that you have fantasies." That last sentence was 
said so that it could be interpreted many ways by the young girl who was in
his arms.

She nodded her head as if she were confessing something to a judge. "Yes,
I do."

"In my fantasy I want to be ... " Arthur began lazily and then let the
sentence trail off. "Oh, I guess I want to be someone who's in charge,
someone who's strong."

"Yes!" the girl sighed, her eyes meeting his and clinging to the union.

"Yes. Someone very strong and sure. Perhaps ... " He grew thoughtful.
"Perhaps I'm a knight and I've rescued you from the invaders. You were the
damsel in distress?"

Eleanore was melting in his arms. She was literally clinging to his body.
She could feel his cock pressing against her flesh. It was hard and lot and
she wanted it.

Eleanore was suddenly discovering what it meant to really want a cock, she
knew what it, meant to be with a man and to really want sex. Oh, yes, there
had been times when she had been alone in her room and had craved sex.
There had been times when she had fingered her pussy and had dreamed about
sex. But now she was not alone. Now she was sharing it with someone.

And Arthur knew what he was doing with his seduction, his stealthy
seduction.

"Or perhaps I'm the evil black knight, the enemy of the king, and I have
you naked in my chambers? Did you ever dream that way, Eleanore?" His voice
was lulling, hypnotic.

She moaned and he slid his body on top of her. "And you'll never be saved
from my evil clutches." He said that in the same soft voice. He purposely
left the wording of that sentence very vague. If she wanted to believe that
he was merely continuing the story, she could.

But if she wanted to understand it as it was actually meant, if she wanted
to accept and understand the fact that he was telling her that she was his
captive, that would be better.

He felt the sexual tension in her body. It was a different sort of tension
from the one that he had felt earlier. She was responding to him sexually.
She was tense because she was turned on by the notion that he was
suggesting to her.

"You're my prisoner here and nothing can save you, little one."

His eyes were burning tight into her eyes. She shut her eyes and groaned
as she stretched her body and moved her arms in a sensual manner. He put
his hands down on both of her arms and was holding her in place there. Then
he could feel the way her nakedness was squirming against his nakedness.

He pulled both of her arms up over her head and then he gripped both
wrists with one of his hands. He was holding her in place as he forced his
lips against her lips.

Arthur understood completely the sexual fantasy that was filling her mind.
She was seeing herself as his rape victim. He rubbed his tongue back and
forth across her clenched lips and then be finally managed to get her lips
parted and his tongue inside there.

He pushed his tongue against her tongue. Still she was playing at being
unwilling.

But Arthur was wise enough to know the difference. He knew that if she
really didn't want to have sex with him at that point she would have been
able to pull away. He gave her that option. He gave her the chance to say,
"No," in a calm and stern voice.

She didn't say it. He had never actually forced sex upon anyone. That was
something he could never have condoned. But he felt the stiffness in his
cock, stiffer than it had been before, since the scene had turned, in this
direction, toward bondage and domination.

When she pulled one of her arms loose from his grip, she wrapped that arm
around his back and dug her fingers into his flesh. "Aaah!" he said,
laughing a little bit. "Maybe you should be tied up."

She moaned softly and then he reached to the side of the bed where his tie
had fallen. This was where she had undressed him. His tie had been loosened
and it hadn't been opened all the way.

So, there was still a Windsor knot in the tie and a big loop which used to
be much smaller. The part of the tie that dangled down at the ends was now
shortened because the loop had been stretched.

The girl watched, wide-eyed, and didn't dare ask what was happening.

He looked at her and played on the fact that she was a little bit drunk as
he said, "The black knight will subdue the fair young virgin captive in his
chambers!"

Eleanore virtually swooned when he said that. She was back on the bed and
her arms were behind her. She was pressing her head against his chest and
moaning. Actually, what she was doing was pretending that none of this was
actually occurring. But it was, it was.

He tied her hands together quickly with the tie. He looped the knotted
part around her wrists in a figure eight and then he tied the loop around
her wrists once again. Then he took the dangling part and he pulled it up
through her wrists very abruptly so that she was imprisoned.

Then he pressed his weight down on top of her. "Now there's nothing you
can do to escape."

Her eyes were only narrow slits. They were almost closed, somewhat in a
daze, as she groaned, "Oooh! My virginity." When the man heard that he
couldn't help smiling a little bit. In reality she was not a virgin, but he
had understood the fantasy trip in her head, and he knew that in her
fantasy she longed to be a virgin again.

"The damsel in distress fought off the black knight as well as she could.
No one could blame her for what happened. He overpowered her. He did." The
man was speaking softly, his voice almost a hypnotic buzz as he kissed her
on the eyelids.

Then he pressed his hand between her legs and felt the moisture there.

The girl pressed her legs together. In her fantasy she was a virgin who
was fighting him off. That was something that Arthur understood even better
than Eleanore understood it.

When Eleanore would have a chance to think about it-it might prove
frightening to her. But for the moment she was lost in the fantasy. His
hard, powerful body was on top of her and he was the evil knight who had
taken her captive and who was going to rape her.

Since that was the fantasy that was turning the girl on, Arthur certainly
had no objections.

As she felt his powerful fingers spreading her legs apart and forcing her
back into a position so that she could be raped, so that she could be
victimized, she imagined that she really was the damsel in distress and
that he really was the black knight, out to ravage her.

Somehow, thinking of that fairy tale scene she became hotter and sexier.

Then he pressed himself into the position that he desired. His prick was
pressing right up against her virgin cunt. She was quivering with
anticipation. Her mouth was dry but her cunt wasn't.

And then he pushed the head of his prick into her pussy. Her cunt lips
wrapped themselves around the flared head of his cock. The mushroom head of
his dick pushed against the inner cunt lips and started to force them
apart. She felt the pressure against all of her muscles.

Then the cock head slipped fully between the inner lips. She was being
spread open.

He pushed forward. His dick was so stiff it was like an iron prong. He
went all the way into her. Since the base of his dick was the thickest part
of all that was spreading open her cunt lips.

He was very thick and as he worked his body from one side to the other he
was forcing her apart and he was forcing more and more cunt juice into the
walls of her pussy. That was a response of her own body to what was
happening. She could feel the walls of her cunt growing thicker with the
wetness that was coming from the depths of her own body.

And then the spongy flesh became even more springy than it had been. It
seemed to be bouncing back against the movements of the cock, time after
time after time.

But for that moment he was only working his dick from side to side,
pressing the flared head against all the different sides of the pussy flesh
and feeling the movement against him.

It was after the wetness was drooling from the body that he started to
pull his dick back out of her and then slammed the full length of it back
into her hot cunt. He pulled back and slammed forward again and then again.
When he pulled back he was sliding almost the full length of his dick all
the way out of her hot body so that only the big flared mushroom head of it
remained between the clinging pussy lips.

Then he slammed the full length of it back into the hot hole so that the
big head was banging against the depths of her cunt, was all of her insides
reverberated in response.

When he pulled back out of her again he was pulling against her already
overexcited clitoris with the back of the flared head of his cock. The
little love button was excited even more.

And then she was really writhing in the bonds that were holding her hands
behind her back.

Perspiration appeared all over her sensually naked body. Each time he
slammed into her hot bole his hips were moving up and then down again, but
his chest was virtually glued to her breasts. It was his perspiration
against her perspiration. Only his hips were moving. Otherwise his body was
locked down hard on top of her body. She was the one who was moving all
over.

"Oh, no-o-o-o-o! Oh my God! Oh! This isn't ... Not ... Ple-e-e-ease!
Aaargh!"

He felt the walls of her cunt pulling taut around the head of his cock.
There was a flow of hot juice out of the walls of her cunt. This time it
was overflowing. This time it was juice that oozed out of her pussy and
dribbled along into the crack of her ass and also gathered in the hollow
between his two balls. He cried out as well, a sharp little cry.

Suddenly Arthur realized that her hot cunt was tugging the juice right out
of his body. He felt his whole body pulled taut and then his neck even
curved back. His head was angled up and he was looking at the ceiling as he
felt himself being pulled completely through his dick.

It was literally as if his very being were going to leave his body through
that extension.

And when his first real shot of hot gism slammed against the depths of her
already undulating pussy, she felt the movement in her own cunt continuing.
She had just been ready to pass the peak of sexual delight, her orgasmic
moment. But that moment was now being extended into a series of moments,
into a little drunk of time when she was completely out of control.

She felt her pulse stop. She felt a coldness right between her breasts.
She felt a dizziness sweeping over her. Everything was being pulled toward
her cunt.

Her being and his being were both meeting and their genitals were merely
the hosts for that meeting.

The heat that was being generated between his dick and her cunt was
incredible. He felt as if he were melting into her and she, for her part,
was melting into him.

And then it finally passed. They were both very aware of their pulses,
beating in unison, slowly throbbing as if each beat were waiting until the 
echo of the previous pulse beat had disappeared.

He looked into her eyes. It was a different tone of voice, a voice that
showed concern and was not sexual, that asked, "Are you okay? How are you
feeling now?"

"P-please, could you ... ?" She couldn't bring herself to finish the
sentence, but she indicated with her hand what she wanted and he knew that
she wanted his dick out of her cunt.

He worked back slowly and then she tensed up and pulled away from him. She
cried out because the pulling was very fast and sudden. Then she indicated
her wrists and he untied her hands. Then she turned away from him and
rubbed her wrists to get the circulation back.

"How are you feeling now, babe?" he asked as he put his arms around her
breasts.

She pulled away as if he had touched her with a cattle prod. "Don't touch
me."

"How are you? Are you okay?" Now his voice was flat and demanding.

"I'll be fine. It was just a little bit of a jolt to me ... what happened
... "

"What happened that was such a jolt to you, Eleanore?" he snapped.

She finally turned and looked at him as she replied, 'Well, I've never
permitted anyone to ... I mean, I've never been in a situation in which my
hands were ... uh, tied."

By the time she reached the end of that sentence she was looking at her
fingernails rather than at him.

"Look at me when you talk to me. Damn it, Eleanore. What are you afraid of
that keeps you from looking at me?"

She tried to sound casual but did not succeed as she asked, "Uh, tell me
... Do you do that often ... I mean, tying a girl's hands behind ... uh, do
you do that often?"

Swallowing hard she looked up at the man's eyes, finally meeting his-eyes
again.

He held her eyes where they were. He stared intently into her eyes as he 
said, "I only do it when I sense that the girl I'm with really wants it."

But that was the spark that ignited everything. "What?" she screamed as
she jumped up from the bed. "How dare you? How dare you make such an
accusation?"

"What accusation?" he asked, laughing because he couldn't help himself.

She was already at her closet and she pulled a full-length terry robe from
the inside of the door. She pulled it shut around her and buttoned the top
button so that her breasts would not show.

"Now you can just get out. You with your filthy questions and your filthy
mind can just get out of here."

"Filthy? What the hell is your definition of filthy anyway?"

"I told you to get out of here!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

He folded his arms across his chest and softly said, "I'm not leaving
here."

"You're... what?" She shook her head. "I'll call the police. I'll ... "

"And what happens when I tell my side of the story? What happens when I
tell them about the way you wanted to play out a sexual game and get tied
up? When that news gets back to the ladies in the organization with you
what will they say to you?"

Defeated, Eleanore slumped down onto the bed in a sitting position. "How
could you do this to me?"

"Do this to you?" he cried out. He was finally losing his cool. "What did
I do?"

"What a question for you to ask! What did you do? You ... you were...
perverse."

"Do you remember when we were sitting on the couch together? It was less
than an hour ago now. Do you remember when I held your hands down with my
hands as if I were pinning you? .Do you remember how you responded to that?
You responded by humping back against me, by getting more excited.
Eleanore, you were turned on by a fantasy trip of bondage and domination."

She kept her back turned to him. She was sitting defensively in the full
robe. He was still naked.

"How long have you had fantasies about that? Come on. You know that
they're there. Maybe in the dreams you're the damsel and he's the black
knight. Maybe in your dreams you're the stewardess and he's the hijacker.
But, the fact of the matter is that that's what you dream about."

"It's filthy," she interrupted. "Talking about things like that is ...
insulting to women."

"I'm talking about fantasies! How dare you call your own fantasies
filthy?"

She looked at him, particularly, startled by the last thing he had said.
He had been reprimanding her.

"I meant that. Your fantasies are a part of who you are. I don't know why
you have certain fantasies, but you do. I don't know why I have certain
fantasies, but I do.

"When I have sexual fantasies they concern domination. I see myself as a
Master, as someone who has power over a woman's body. That's what's locked
deep inside my head.

"Yes. If I went out to prove that on the streets of New York, if I
attacked women who were walking down a street to prove that I was powerful
that would be a stinking rotten thing and I would be a nut who should be
sent away. Right? But, I don't do it that way.

"What I do is find women who have fantasies that fit in with my fantasies.
Think of it as two pieces of a puzzle. Oh, sure, it's not a puzzle that's
carved in oak. The pieces can change shape a little here and there. But, as
long as they fit together it's swell.

"So, if there's a woman who has sexual fantasies about being bound and
dominated, if she's turned on by the notion of submissive sex, then I can
let my fantasies run loose. You see, in fulfilling your fantasies I also
managed to fulfill my own fantasies.

"Saying that your fantasies are filthy, or insulting, or anything else, is
like saying that your nose is filthy and your breasts are insulting to
women. Would you want those cut off? Do you really want your fantasies cut
out? Do you think you'd be the same person without them?"

As he was speaking, his voice was getting softer and softer. He put his
hand on the girl's arm and she pulled her arm away quickly. She stood up,
her back still toward him, and she snapped, "Please. I would like you to 
get dressed and I Would like you to leave."

He got out of the bed and started to put his clothes on. She sat at the
far side of the room while he dressed. Although she didn't look at him, he
could tell that she could hear him.

"You know what fantasies are in your head. You know what sexual passions
are a part of you, Eleanore. Just because you refuse to face them, you
can't lie to yourself.

"But think of the way you reacted when I asked you how the ladies in your
organization would respond to you if they knew what was going on inside
your head. Think of how frightened you were.

"It must be terribly frightening to spend your time in the company of
people who would have no sympathy, who would have no understanding about
the truth about you."

"Stop it. You can stop it now, directly," she snapped, still sitting.

"Who did you harm, Eleanore? Who really did you harm? I tied you up and
fucked the living daylights out of you until we were both drenched with
sweat. I gave you pleasure all over your body.

"Those self-righteous ladies in your organization have made you feel
guilty and filthy and unable to be honest with yourself. Which side has
done you real harm, Eleanore?"

"You shut up. That organization is filled with modern feminists. We're not
some old archaic religious group that's clinging to outmoded doctrines
concerning the ... "

"Oh, come off it. Labels mean nothing. If a woman is frightened of sex she
can always find some label to hide behind." He paused but didn't give her a
chance to speak. "Before anything else let me tell you that I support
everything that feminists believe in-in terms of equal job opportunities
and equal pay and all of that.

"Most of the women in that movement that I've met have been really
intelligent and together people who knew what they were doing. I'm just
talking about this little fringe that you've gotten yourself involved in.
I'm just talking about these ladies who've decided that obscenity and filth
and smut and passion and all of that has to be stamped out."

"Images of women being tied up and abused are not sexy."

"Will you stop quoting from the brochure for one minute. I read the
fucking thing and I know that sentence is in headlines. How dare you tell
me what's not sexy. There are people in this world who think that a loaf of
rye bread is sexy if you drill a hole in it.

"As long as that person isn't hurting anyone, why should you tell him that
rye bread isn't sexy?"

Eleanore responded with a sardonic laugh. "You think that images of women
being tied up and raped isn't hurting anyone? Don't you know that violence
in our society...

"Yes. I know. There are men who come home from work and beat up their
wives because they're frustrated. That's shitty. But, do you think those
men got that idea from books?

"And in terms of solving anything ... What do you think would happen if I
had my way?" Finally, Eleanore stopped and paid real attention to him. She
wanted to hear this.

"If I had my way ... everyone would be taught that sex is okay as long as
they didn't hurt anyone. Those guys who have all that aggression left over
at the end of the day because they've been in a pressured job on an
assembly line will understand that it's possible to play sexual games, to
find a willing partner who's turned on by the same trip, and not to feel
guilty about what they're doing. Don't you see, it's the ones who believe
the crap that your organization is handing down to them, the ones who have
to suppress the truth, who end up fucked up."

"You're dressed. You can go now, Mr. Barone," she said, leading him toward
the door.

He stopped behind her and said, "You can take any label you want. You can
hide behind any group. In a different era a woman with your same passions
and fears would have turned to a church. Now you take up modern causes so
you had to find a modern excuse ...

"You can go now, Mr. Barone. Please, leave. Do not come back here."

She pulled the door open and he stepped into the hall. He smiled back at
the girl and she slammed the door shut on him, clicking three locks and
pulling a chain across.

He stood outside of the door for a long moment. He had lost his cool. He
really had. And he had said a lot more vindictive things to the girl than
he had ever intended to.

Arthur was wishing, as he stood out there, that there, was some way he
could help her, some way he could contribute to a solution of her problem.
But, he was stumped.

Meanwhile, back in the apartment, the girl was quivering in fear. It was
something that she had been holding inside her all the time that the man
had spoken to her.

She went to the bathroom and ran a tub of warm water. Then she climbed in
and she tried to relax in the soothing bath. Leaning back she felt her
tense muscles easing up.

Then she slowly traced her fingers down the sensual curves of her body and
she stopped at her pussy. What would the man think of her, what would he
say to her if he knew the real truth?

All that terror she bad expressed when she was cumming had been quite real
enough. That had been the first time in her life that she had ever had an
orgasm. She had fucked before and she had pretended to like the passionless
lovemaking. But, this had gone beyond the level of liking or disliking it.
This was the first time that her body had ever taken charge completely, the
first time that her passions had really been let loose.

Just thinking about it she started to finger her cunt lips as she lay back
in the warm bath.

Although she didn't want to admit it, she really enjoyed that climax. She
felt more satisfied than she ever had.

And yet, she knew that it was just the beginning.


CHAPTER FIVE

Of all the young executives who were participating in the bet, none of
them had learned about domination and submission earlier than Barney.
Barney was now close to thirty and, having been black in the big city when
he was growing up, be had seen the grittiest side of sexuality.

He couldn't remember, he tried not to remember, how old he was when he had
lost his virginity. It was with a gang of boys who agreed to take him along
with them when they paid a visit to a girl who wasn't too attractive,
seemed to be mentally deficient, and took one boy after another with her 
insatiable appetite.

But he knew that he was only thirteen when he really got into dominating a
woman. And that hadn't even been his doing. He had been large for his age
and he told the supermarket people that he was already fifteen. They hired
him after school to deliver groceries.

One day, just as he was about to leave work at seven, a tall and elegant
white woman came up to him and said, "You'll deliver my groceries, won't
you, dear?"

"Ma'am, there're no more deliveries after seven at night."

"I'll make it worth your while, dear. After all, you are here because you
want to earn money."

"If the manager doesn't mind I guess I can ... " Before the boy had said
more the woman handed him her address and then pointed to the box that the
check-out girl was still packing.

There were only two light bags in the box. It wasn't much at all and the
woman probably could have carried it all home with her easily enough. But,
if it meant some more money the boy surely didn't mind. He looked at the
woman's address. It was only down the block.

He saw that she had already left the store, preparing to get home ahead of
him. He was sorry about that since he had hoped for a chance to walk
alongside of her. She was very sexy.

When he turned the corner of the block he saw the woman going into the
door of her building. But when he got to the door of the building the
doorman stopped him and had to call upstairs. It took a while for the woman
to answer and young Barney was getting pissed about that.

"Okay. You can go up," the doorman said to the young black boy.

When the black boy got to the door of the apartment, the woman ushered him
in. He was startled to see that she had already managed to get changed into
a flowing black robe.

"Bring that right into the kitchen," the woman said, shutting the door
behind him.

She followed the boy into the kitchen and she seemed to be very close to
him as she shuffled through her drawer and pulled out some money. "Can I
offer you anything to drink?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "No thanks, ma'am. I've gotta be on my way now."

The boy seemed to be shuffling from one foot to the other. He felt nervous
by the nearness of the white woman in the confined space of the small
kitchen. "How old are you?" she asked.

"Fifteen," he said, lying since he had to lie for the sake of the job.

"You're quite a young man for someone who's just fifteen. Do you think you
could just do a little chore for me? I'll make it worth your while," she
said using a coy voice.

"Well, that depends on what it is, ma'am," he said, mumbling by that time.

"There's a light bulb in the bedroom that needs to be changed. I'm tall
enough to do it but I'm just afraid of getting up on one of those chairs.
Would you?"

"Sure," he said, shrugging his shoulders as she led him down the hall to
the bedroom. Then she pulled a chair up under the ceiling fixture and
motioned to the boy as she held the new bulb.

He got up on the chair, unscrewed the old one. He was very aware of the
fact that the woman was standing right in front of him and that her face
was a matter of inches from his cock. He was self-conscious because he
could feel his dick growing in response to that nearness.

When he finished screwing in the new bulb, she said, "Stay there and let
me see if it works."

She flipped on the light switch and the light went on. Then she flipped it
off. The boy was just about to come down from the chair, but the woman
said, "No. Stay there. Please."

Then she was right in front of him again and she was clutching the outline
of his stiff dick through the corduroy fabric of his pants. "I

can tell that you're not even fifteen and yet this cock is the size of a
man's cock." Then she was kneading the dick through the pants.

Barney remained silent as she reached up and opened his pants. Then she
tugged on the pants and undershorts so that the cock could leap out to
freedom. The dick was completely stiff already and the woman took it
between her lips. He slid the full length of it all the way forward.

Then he pressed his hands down against the top of her head and he was
pushing her face forward toward his stiff erection. He was pushing his hips
at the same time so that he was fucking her face, forcing the full length
of the prong against the back of her throat.

Since he was so young and so turned on by the sexuality of the situation,
he shot his load immediately.

She swallowed down all the juice. Each time it pulsated into his throat
again she would swallow again and then her throat muscles would clasp
around the flared head of the dick urging even more juice out of the
sensitive heat of the cock.

It was really shooting really slamming down against the depths of her
throat.

And she was hungry for it. She was willing and starving to swallow, all
the boy's spunk.

He pushed the full length of his dick against the very back of her throat
and then he pulled it all away from her. He almost fell off the chair
because of losing balance. But as he turned away from her, he jumped off
the chair. He was stuffing his dick away.

She got on her knees in front of him and shouted, "No."

"Hey, lady, are you crazy?" Barney shouted as he pulled away again.

"Let me be your sex slave, black boy. Come on. Pay me back for
everything."

"Pay you back for... ?" He didn't understand what she meant, but he had a
rather graphic introduction when she bent down and started to kiss the toes
of his scruffy white sneakers.

Although he had just finished putting his prick back in his pants and
closing his fly, he could feel the excitement coursing through his loins
again. She was turning him on.

And, although he was still a child, he was able to sense the fact that she
wanted him to be a tough street kid. Actually he was a hard-working boy who
was determined to get somewhere in life, even if it meant selling out. But,
that wasn't what the woman saw and that wasn't what she wanted to see. So,
he replied with, "What'chu lookin' for, lady? Huh?"

On her knees in front of him, she looked up at him and said, "Anything."

"Anything I say?" he snapped. He could hardly believe his fortune. She was
a grown woman, somewhere in her thirties, very sexual and very fascinating.
She was mature and sophisticated and beautiful. But, she was on her knees
in front of him and sucking on his torn white sneakers.

She nodded her head, bowing it in a completely subservient way.

"First thing you can do is strip naked, strip out of everything, lady."

"Yes," she sighed softly as she peeled off the black robe and revealed
that she was completely naked underneath. Her body was gorgeous. She had a
beautiful, rich tan from some recent vacation and she had very obvious
white patterns on her body that were left by the tops and the bottoms of
her sexy, brief swimsuits.

Her breasts looked like two perfect mounds of vanilla ice cream with
little unripened berries squashed at the tops. These were the first pink
nipples he could remember seeing.

Further down he saw her blond pussy patch that delicately fringed the lips
of her cunt. He could tell that the woman had trimmed back her cunt hairs.
That excited him as well. He was turned on by the fact that she was a very
mature, very worldly woman.

And she was naked, on her knees, in front of him, and ready to serve.

He pulled open his pants and started to stroke his dick through his
undershorts. His shorts, which had originally been white, were now grey
from too many washings. All the elasticity had gone out of the waistband so
that the shorts were drooping down a little bit. But his young throbber was
clearly outlined through the fabric, lie felt this need to humiliate the
woman, but he wasn't sure how. He poked his dick toward her lips still
wrapped inside the white cotton of the undershorts. She opened her mouth
and took it inside.

Then she started to suck up and down on the cock, even though she was
eating it through the fabric of his filthy underpants. While she was doing
that he pulled off his shirt and then stepped out Of his sneakers. He
pushed her face away and dropped his pants and shorts so that he was as
naked as she was. His young cock really was quite impressive.

The woman looked hungrily at his dick. Barney grinned openly over the fact
that she was hungry for it. He pulled at his balls and said, "You can lick
back here first."

Then he felt the white woman's tongue quickly working at the sensitive
flesh behind his balls. Her tongue moved right to his anal opening. Then
she pushed her tongue up against the moist flesh of his ass hole. The boy
couldn't believe what she was doing, but he sure didn't feel like
complaining about anything. He squatted a little bit to make it easier for
her.

And then he felt her willing tongue pushing up against the flesh of his
bottom hole.

She worked her tongue around and around there and he felt his dick
responding to that stimulation. Then he pushed her face away from his anal
opening and he pushed her down on the floor.

"I'm gonna fuck your pussy, lady." The boy slammed his body down on top of
hers.

He was delighted that he had already cum once. He knew that his dick was
so hard that he would be able to fuck her for a long time then. He pushed
the full length of his cock into the hot orifice of the delicate cunt. Then
he shoved his body forward a little more.

Her body pushed up against his and when he started to fuck the two of them
were moving in unison. As of that time Barney had never had sex that was
that good.

Even though he bad just cum a short while before he wasn't able to hold
out more than another five minutes with this luscious woman. He started to
shoot into the depth of her body.

And she was sucking on his ears by that time, hungry for his body.

He pulled out of her and dressed quickly. She pressed a ten dollar bill
into his hand. That was a great deal of money to the boy and he hadn't
expected any, not even as a tip for delivering her groceries. After all, he
had been given a blowjob and a fuck from the woman.

But, much to his delight, he discovered that the woman put a certain value
on him as long as he remained within the mold of her fantasies. She gave
him money and took care of his sexual needs. As he got to know her more and
more he discovered that she wanted to be his slave. He started to
understand, slowly, what that actually meant and what powers he would have
over her.

With the imagination of a boy who has been given a new toy, he invented
games for her to play.

He tied her hands behind her back and tied her ankles together. Then he
tossed her on the floor on her belly. "You see these underpants of mine,
bitch?" he snapped at her.

She looked up at him and nodded. He was holding his shorts, bunched up in
one hand.

"I'm gonna toss these across the room and you're gonna go and get them.
You're gonna fetch them in your teeth and, you're gonna travel across the
room on your belly. Understand?"

As he was talking his dick was standing straight up in front of him, fully
erect. Her cunt was boiling over with passion. He was so young and she knew
that he wasn't experienced in all of this. But he was being naturally
dominant. He was responding to his real feelings.

"And I'm gonna time you to see how long it takes you to bring the shorts
back. You're gonna get one smack across the ass for each three seconds it
takes you, bitch."

Then he tossed the rolled up undershorts across the room and shouted,
"Go."

He watched her crawling and occasionally glanced at the clock on the wall.
The second hand was sweeping and he was rubbing his hands together in
gleeful anticipation.

Then she managed to crawl back toward him with the undershorts in her
teeth. "Okay. You can drop the shorts now. I don't wanna take them all wet
from your spit, lady."

He pushed his dick into her throat as soon as she had dropped the shorts
and then he started to smack the cheeks of her ass. She had earned eleven
smacks for her tardiness.

He slammed his open palm down across her naked ass cheeks. "This one is
for those snotty ladies who call me boy when they come into the
supermarket. And this one is for those ladies who cross to the other side
of the street when they see me walkin' down the street."

There was real fury in the boy's words. And as he expressed that fury his
dick was stiff in the woman's throat. It was a fury that she wanted him to
express because her needs dictated a longing to be the victim of such
abuse. After he shot down her throat and she was sprawled on the floor at
his feet she was meaning, "Oh, pay me back for everything that my people 
did to your people. Pay me back for it. I need it. I need it."

He found out about the woman bit by bit. He found out that she was
originally from the South and that her family traced their roots back to
two Civil War-generals. He found out that she was married but that her
husband took long business trips.

She always gave him some money. He felt like a whore because of that but
he also came to understand that the woman wanted to give him the money.
That was part of her submission to him.

After a little more than a year of this, with long stretches of time when
her husband was home and she would not see the boy for a month or two, she
moved away. She was divorcing her husband. She told the boy that she was
going back to her family in the South.

Then she gave him fifty dollars in ten dollar bills. "Don't you stay the
tough little street fighter that you are, Barney. You have more in you than
that. Sure, you could be the tough kid on the street if you want to be.
Sure, you could beat up the other kids. But there's more that you can
accomplish with your life, Barney."

He tried to give her back the money, but she laughed, "I won't even miss
it. But you can get yourself something really nice with that money. Go
ahead, Barney."

The boy had never even had the woman's phone number and she had never had
his. If she wanted him, she knew that she could find him at the supermarket
where he worked all the time.

When she left the neighborhood he had no idea where she was. She really
had considered him like a whore, he realized. Because the boy was hoping
for a future that would be conservative and proper, he tried to forget
about what had happened with the woman.

And yet, as he was growing up, there were always other situations like it.

There were certain white women, he discovered, who had heard so much about
the myth of the black man, who had heard that the black man was threatening
in his maleness, that they longed for a chance to work it out for
themselves. By the time the boy was in college and had filled out quite a
bit he was often the target of white women like that.

He felt uncomfortable about it. "Damn," he shouted to the wife of one of
his college professors after he had fucked her. "I want to be accepted
among the white world. But how can they accept me if they have to worry 
about their wives pulling down my pants."

"Oh, come on, Barney," the seductive woman had said. "You know you liked
it."

"Isn't your husband going to see the red marks I left on your ass though?"

Shrugging her shoulders, she laughed, "My husband only likes to fuck with
the lights out. He never gets to see my body at all."

Barney was determined that he was going to take his dominant nature and
turn it into an asset. He used that same forceful attitude when he had to
make a presentation at the board.

He knew what his position among the junior executives was. He knew that
the Dalon Company had been under investigation for not hiring any
minorities in management posts. He also knew that the decision of when he
would move up in the ranks of the board would be made not based on anything
he had done in particular, but based on the decision of where they needed
him. Barney knew that he was window dressing and that he would move to some
moderate point on the board and could stay there for the rest of his
career.

They would point to him with pride. He was their token minority upon the
executives.

It was almost amusing to him that the following day, when the president of
the company had to speak at a luncheon of the Negro League, he took Barney
along with him. It was the only time of the year that he got to actually
sit next to the company president.

The president of the company gave a rousing speech to the gathered group
in the banquet hall during which he said that the country must give free
enterprise the reins to straighten out the mess of the economy.

"That's how America was built and that's how America will survive."

But the response to that speech was only mild. Then he proudly introduced
Barney. "One of my brightest young executives. A man who is really going
places with the company. I know that I was supposed to speak for another
five minutes, but let me give the floor over to my dear friend, Barney."

Barney was stunned. He hadn't prepared anything to say. He thanked the
president of the company and told them how inspiring it was to see the
progress made by his people. He talked nonsense for five minutes and got a
rousing ovation from the people. After the luncheon he got into the 
president's car. The driver was black and looked at Barney with suspicion.
As they drove along the president complimented him on his speech and he
complimented the president on the speech he had given and then thanked him
for the opportunity to speak to the crowd.

Actually, Barney felt like saying, "You fucker, how could you make me
suddenly get up there without any preparation at all?"

But, he didn't. He knew that they were both being polite and lying.

"We're picking up my daughter over here," the president of the company
said as the car stopped and the driver got out. They were in front of a
very exclusive little shop.

A stunning girl with long, straight blonde hair came running out of the
shop with a lot of packages in her arms. The driver opened the door for her
and her father snapped, "Let Otis put those packages in the trunk, dear.
You don't need to carry them."

She loaded all of the packages into the driver's arms and then climbed
into the car as the black man in uniform closed the door behind her. She
kissed her father on the cheek and then said, "Oh, I had the most wonderful
trip, Daddy. Who's this?"

Her eyes seemed to sparkle as she looked at Barney. She smiled at him.

"Don't you remember Mr. Springer, dear? He was at the executive's
Christmas party this year."

"How do you do, Mr. Springer," the girl said, reaching across her father
and shaking Barney's hand as they nodded to each other. Then the three of
them settled in for the ride back to the office building. Even though the
older white man was sitting in between the two younger people, Barney was
aware of the sexual tension between himself and the girl.

She was about twenty-one and she looked like the most cosmopolitan New
York woman.

But, when the ride was over, Barney was the first one out of the car. He
went directly to his office. He had missed the lunch with the other junior
executives. This was already Friday. It was the beginning of the weekend
and he hadn't made any progress toward finding a woman to enslave.

He didn't want to know what the other young men had said over lunch. He
was disturbed about the fact that he had allowed his male bravado to push
him into betting two hundred dollars on the question of which of them could
bring in the most beautiful and gutsy female slave.

Back at his desk he started to work hard, trying to bury himself in his
work. He was disturbed by the memories that had come up because of the bet.
He had tried to become the polite and proper business executive who did not
have a color to his skin. But he knew that he hadn't succeeded. He knew
that when people looked at him they saw a black man.

And he knew that there were many women who looked at him and immediately
saw a black stud.

"Mr. Springer," his secretary said over the intercom. "There's a young
woman who ... "

But before the secretary had finished, the door opened. It was the
daughter of the president of the company. She looked around the office and
said, "Oh, I just wanted to tell you, Mr. Springer, what a pleasure it was
to have met you and spoken to you. I never got a chance. As long as I was
on this floor I wanted to see where you worked.

"What a lovely office. I can see that you're very fastidious." The young
woman was looking around the office and walking around as if she were
investigating the job the interior decorator had done. The door was still
standing wide open and the secretary was right in the doorway watching the
whole scene. Somehow, Barney could tell that the blonde girl in the room
was very aware of the secretary and that she was, in fact, putting on a
show for the secretary.

"Well, I really must be running now, Mr. Springer," the blonde girl said,
reaching her right arm out toward him. "It's been a pleasure." When she
shook his hand she placed a folded piece of paper in his right hand. She
winked at him and then she left the room.

"Oh, my, Mr. Springer, that young lady is sure a whirlwind, isn't she?"

"Yes, Mrs. Frobisher. That was the daughter of the president," Barney
said.

"Oh, is that her? My but she's a pretty girl. No wonder all the young men
chase her."

"Well, back to work, Mrs. Frobisher." As soon as his secretary had closed
the door Barney unfolded the piece of paper he had been handed. It gave him
a phone number and told him that he should call that number between four
and five that afternoon, that she would be waiting.

He understood just what the blonde girl had wanted. She had come into the
office and left the door open so that the secretary could see everything,
so that nothing would be under suspicion. But, she actually wanted to have
a black stud.

Barney looked at the ... number. He didn't get additional work done that
afternoon. He just kept debating whether or not he should phone the number
he had been given. He felt his cock growing hard as he thought about the
luscious blonde girl. But, at the same time he was terrified. He had made
it to this point in his career by being the nice black man who didn't rock
the boat.

But when the time came for him to actually make a decision, he ended up
calling the girl at ten minutes after four. He justified the action in many
ways. She was the big boss's daughter and it would have been rude not to
have followed up on her request.

"I want to see you tonight, Mr. Springer," she said, as soon as she knew
it was him on the phone.

"Well ... uh, it would be most pleasant to see you together with your
father and mother. I'm a member of the Williams' Club and would be happy to
have you and ... "

"Cut the crap, Barney. You know what I want," the girl moaned softly.

He stammered a little bit and didn't know how to answer. She said, "Be
here at nine tonight." She had her own apartment and she gave him her
address.

"That might be dangerous," he said, concerned about the girl's family.

"Be there, Barney. I promise that it'll be worthwhile for you ... And if
you don't show up that could be dangerous."

Then she hung up the phone. He was troubled. Just when he was supposed to
find a girl he could turn into a slave he was being forced into this
strange position by the boss's daughter. He felt his long dick throbbing
inside his pants. But at the same time he felt put-upon by the girl. He was
angry at the way she had felt she could boss him around.

And his anger kept on growing all the way until he got to the girl's
apartment at nine.

It wasn't only anger at the girl. It was anger about everything in his
life. He was one raging volcano. He was angry at the company for hiring him
and making him into a token for his race. He was angry at the girl for
using him the way she was.

He hammered on her door in a determined manner. She pulled open the door.
She was wearing nothing but a short white nglige as she ushered him into
the apartment.

There were candles lit all over the place. It was an elegant little East
side apartment.

"A little wine, Barney?" she offered, sweeping into the room behind him.

"No ... thank you ... " he snapped, standing rigid and erect.

She giggled. "Oh, what's bugging you, Barney? I do things like this all
the time. My daddy never finds out about any of them. He gave up trying to
control me years ago."

The girl licked his neck as she said that. He pulled away from her.

"Things like this? You do things like this? Do you realize that you're not
talking about me as if I were even a person? You think I'm just a stud who
can service you, is that it?" Her eyes were ablaze as she tossed her head
back and said, "How dare you?"

"How dare I? What about you, you rich little bitch? How dare you?"

She started to laugh as she said, "Do you know what my daddy will do to
you when be finds out how you've spoken to me? Do you know what's gonna
happen to you in the business world?"

"And what's gonna happen to you for inviting me over here to seduce me?"

"I told you that my father doesn't interfere with my life anymore. Re
knows he can't control me." The girl was very proud of that point and she
almost laughed the words.

"But, he can ruin everything I worked for all my life if you decide to say
so."

As Barney said that he grasped onto the girl's wrists and held them. She
felt the iron of his grip and realized that she had made a mistake. "Hey, I
wouldn't actually do that. I mean, I wouldn't really, honestly report you
to my father for anything. I wouldn't."

"Oh, wouldn't you? I don't happen to believe that little lie. You're the 
kind of bitch who's never had to work for anything in her life and so you
don't worry about anyone else in the world. You don't consider anyone
else's feelings and you don't care about them."

She fell to her knees because of the way he was gripping her wrists. "Stop
it. I order you to stop it."

"You're used to ordering people around, aren't you, Pamela? That's what
you do to all your servants and that's even the way you treat your daddy.
But, I am one man who's stopped taking orders as of right now."

"Please. Don't hurt me. You're hurting me. You're pulling on my wrists."

"That's hurting you, girl? That? This little bit of pulling that I'm doing
and you're telling me that you're in pain. Hah! Yu don't know what pain is.
You're used to your comfortable little world. You don't have to worry about
a damn thing because your daddy will take care of it."

She was really terrified now. The black stud was rambling on and really in
a rage.

"I'm gonna show you what it is to be hurting," he snapped as he pulled her
toward the sleek sofa. He tossed the girl over his knees and then pushed
her nglige up.

She knew immediately what he was going to do. She was struggling against
him.

But he raised one hand up in the air and slammed it down across the bare
cheeks of her ass. He saw the cheeks glisten bright red and then he saw the
girl clenching her cheeks together.

"No-o-o-o-o!" she screamed. "Don't you dare. Don't you spank me."

He slapped her ass two more times in quick succession and she yelled even
louder.

"You were never spanked in your whole damn life, were you, bitch?"

"Don't you talk that way to me!" she howled, tears streaming down her
cheeks.

But he kept on holding here there on his lap. "You were used to" always
getting any damn thing you ever wanted and you were used to always, having
your own way with everything. I can't believe that there wasn't even one
incident in all the time you were growing up that didn't deserve a good, 
strong spanking and punishment. So, this is the spanking."

And his large, hammy hand kept on slamming across the cheeks of her ass.
She was clenching her smooth muscular ass cheeks together and that was
making the path even worse "Please," she whimpered.

"Please, what? You're going to get me out of a job, out on the streets.
You're going to ruin everything I worked for simply because I wouldn't be
your puppet, didn't want to be your stud, your dildo for your whims and
pleasures. Well, honey, if you're ready to do that to me, then I think I
ought to give you something to really hold against me."

He kept on spanking her ass, aware more and more that the sensually curved
white flesh was warm to the touch. The girl was aware of the thick cock
that was sticking up right against her flesh. She could feel it through the
pants that the black man was wearing.

And she was also aware of a strange longing in her body. She had traveled
around the world always looking for kicks and new pleasures. But, no man
had ever mastered her, no man had ever even tried to conquer her. This was
something new for Pamela and it was something that was making her pussy
ooze and drool as it had never done before.

She felt susceptible. She felt vulnerable. She was being overpowered and
was no longer in control of the situation in spite of the fact that she had
worked so hard to take control of all situations in her life. Somehow it
was the same fearful feeling that she knew from riding roller coasters or
driving a car too fast along mountain roads.

It was taking a risk with her body. But she was filled up with excitement,
burning up with excitement. The black stud was smacking her ass until the
cheeks were numb and his hand was tingling. Then he rolled the girl off his
lap and she rolled onto the floor.

Her ass cheeks had been well abused already and when they hit the carpet
on the floor she shuddered all over because of the way the nerve endings,
raw from the spanking, had been scraped by the new surface. Then she looked
up at the man who was leaning over her.

"Now, let me see, what else shall I do to you to teach you some manners,
bitch?"

She didn't even dare move. The man was in charge. He was dominating her.

There was one voice in her head that was telling her to get up and rush
out of the apartment, to run away from the man and shout for help. But 
there was another voice that was keeping her just where she was. She was
looking up at him and feeling a strange sort of dread that was mixed with
sensual excitement. It was a dread that seemed most alive inside the wails
of her delicate pussy. It was a dread that communicated, through her eyes,
as sexual excitement.

He stroked the erection that was pressing inside his pants. It was quite
large.

"I'm not the first black-man you ever had?" he asked, almost as a
statement.

She shook her head and said, "Otis ... my father's driver...

"And he was willing to put up with your shit, girl? He was willing to take
abuse from you?"

She swallowed hard and looked away from Barney's eyes. But he grabbed her
blonde hair and snarled, "I want you to know that I ain't playin' games. I
mean what I'm tellin' you, bitch. When I ask you a question I want you to
answer that question. Understand?"

"Yes ... Yes, sir ... " she said, realizing that she had been placed in a
totally subservient position and that the man was only just beginning his
domination of her.


CHAPTER SIX

Barney lifted Pamela up and snarled, "Where the fuck is the bedroom?"

She pointed weakly toward a hallway and he carried her toward the bedroom.
"Okay, bitch. Now I'm gonna teach you your lessons." He tossed her down on
the bed and ripped off her nglige so that she was naked.

Then he pulled her hands up over her head. There was a brass headboard. He
used the tattered pieces of the nglige to tie her hands together and to
tie them to the headboard.

She struggled but realized that she was completely under his control. Then
he pulled both of her legs up in the air and he pulled her ankles through
the cross-bars, of the headboard.

Holding her in place with one hand, he loosened his tie with the other. He
was still wearing the same clothes he had worn to the, office that day. He 
used the tie to bind her right ankle to the headboard. Then he grabbed a
pair of the girl's pantyhose from the chair right at the side of the bed.
He quickly tied the sheer cloth around her left ankle and then tied that to
the bed.

So, when he was finished with the girl, he had managed to-get her bound
up. Her hands were up over her head and her legs were up in the air, over
her head. Her ass was jutting out toward him.

"Now I can really give you a spanking you're gonna remember," he said as
he slid his leather belt out of the loops of his pants.

Her eyes widened with fear as she saw the leather strap that was going to
threaten the delicate, cheeks of her bottom. She actually started to quiver
when he doubled it over in his hand.

Barney was holding onto the buckle and the end of the belt in one hand so
that there was a loop made out of the rest of the belt. He slapped that
doubled over portion against, his open palm a number of times. Then he
raised the belt up and slammed it across the cheeks-of her ass.

She clenched her ass cheeks together and screamed out when she felt that
happening.

Barney looked up and realized that there were mirrors on her ceiling. How
convenient. He could watch her writhing and struggling and tensing up from
all angles then.

He pulled off his shirt and slapped her ass with the hot leather once
more.

Although there was a generally reddish glow all over the cheeks of her ass
from the spanking he had given her by band in the other room, now that he
was using the belt on her he was leaving bright red lines across the cheeks
of her bottom.

He slapped the belt across the cheeks once again and there was yet another
stripe left there. This third stripe had cut across the other two. Now the
girl really knew that she was in pain.

And he was able to leave her like that for a moment so that she could
contemplate her fate while lie stripped naked. His hard dick was standing
up in front of him, threatening her.

"I'm gonna do a little bit of exploring around this apartment," he said
with a smile.

"Take whatever you want. I don't care. Steal anything you like, you ... "

He slapped her bard across the face and hissed, "I never stole anything in
my life, bitch."

Then he left the room. She struggled to pull free, but she could not. It
was a full ten minutes before he returned to the room and when he did he
was carrying a cucumber that he had gotten cold from the kitchen.

In his other hand was a can of cooking grease. He sat on the bed and toyed
with those items. "Now, what was it that you were saying to me about
ruining me in the company ad seeing to it that I would never get another
decent job again as long as I lived?"

"I ... I didn't say anything like ... uh, that ... B-Barney."

"You're a shitty liar. Look, bitch, I can't keep you tied up like this for
the next forty years so as far as I'm concerned there's only one attitude I
can take and survive. I have to just figure that when you get out of these
bonds you're gonna call your daddy and go crying to him. So, Pamela, I
might as well have as much fun as I want."

Then he pressed the tip of the cucumber against her cunt lips and opened
the lips with his fingers so that they were wrapped around the hard, cold,
green surface. He pushed forward.

"Oh," she gasped. "Wh-why d-don't you use your own dick."

She was looking right at his cock and she could see that it was stiff as
an iron-poker. He just smiled and said, "Shut the fuck up, slut... I don't
stick my dick in holes that were used too often."

Then he pushed forward with the cucumber and she felt her inner labia
spreading apart around the viciously invading vegetable. He opened the can
of cooking grease then and he lathered a little bit of it around the next
bit of the cucumber, the thicker part.

And then he started to slide it forward, to move it stealthily into her
body.

Even as he was doing that, spreading open the delicate pussy lips and the
flesh in the depths of her hole, he lathered some of the cooking grease
around the head and the great length of his own cock. Then he pushed
forward on the cucumber as he positioned his dick right at her ass hole.
Everything in the girl's body tensed up at that instant.

"No. Not that way. No man ever did that to me. I don't want it. I don't."

"And you're used to only getting what you want, aren't you, bitch?"

He pushed forward with the head of his cock and left a little bit of the
cooking grease right around the clinging opening of the anus. Then he
pushed again and his cock head managed to push forward so that the flared
head was lodged inside the sphincter.

The girl cried out and Barney groaned because he felt the clinging flesh
that was wrapped around the flared head of his cock, gripping him right
behind the head at the most sensitive spot.

He started to push his cock head to one side and then to the other. Then
he finally started to push forward. He was sliding into her body and he
could feel the tension that was fighting against him. "Listen, bitch," he
said, slapping her right across the spot where he had lashed her ass with
the leather. "I'm gonna get inside that hole whether you like it or not. If
you relax and take it you might even enjoy it, although I don't give a damn
whether you do or not. But if you don't relax then I'll rip you to shreds."

Just as he finished saying that he slid forward with one powerful thrust
of his hips. He pushed the full length of his cock all the way into the hot
hole. He could feel the moisture that surrounded the length of his cock and
he pulled back and pushed forward time after time.

He soon felt the difference in the girl's body. He could tell that she was
responding.

Each time he pushed into her and she felt the length of the stiff cock
filling up her ass hole she tensed up in response. But then when he pulled
out of her hole and she felt the tingling sensation as the flared head of
his cock rubbed back against her delicate flesh, she shivered and responded
to him.

As he was working his dick in and out of her ass hole, he was pulling the
cucumber around and around and in and out of her pussy. He was massaging
her clitoris with the thick, hard vegetable.

His cock was pulling back against her sphincter and then it was slamming
against the depths of her body, time after time. Meanwhile he was pushing
and pulling on the green thing and that was certainly massaging her cunt
and creating more and more liquid in the hole.

Pamela really was going wild. Up until then she really had always been in 
charge when she had sex with anyone. She really had always been in control
of what would happen when.

She was a spoiled girl and when she told a man that she had-had enough
fucking she expected him to pull out of her whether he was satisfied or
not. Strangely enough the word that would best describe her attitude was
'macho' the word that some men used to justify inconsiderate behavior. The
honest word was merely 'inconsiderate' thoughtlessly ignoring the needs and
wants of her sex partner. But now it was her needs and wants that were
ignored.

And yet, she was finding that losing control over the situation could be
erotic.

As the cucumber worked in and out and in and out of her hot pussy she knew
that she was getting closer to an orgasm. The movement of the cock inside
her ass hole was rubbing against the tender flesh there and was massaging
against the nerve endings all around the hole.

There was excitement that was rushing up her spine and back down to her
pussy.

And then, suddenly, even before the girl expected it, she felt her cunt
wails collapsing around the cucumber. Barney, who was holding onto the cold
vegetable, could feel the way the girl's pussy was gripping it tightly.
Then he felt the pulling around his own cock.

As soon as her cunt walls collapsed around the cucumber her anal opening
collapsed around his dick and seemed to be sucking the juice right out of
his thick prong.

He started to cum. How strange it was that he had taken such complete
control of the situation and yet it was the natural response of Pamela's
body that had forced him to cum before he actually wanted to. Perhaps that
merely proved that, in spite of ropes and bonds and sexual domination,
there is no such thing as a person taking complete, full control of the
sexual relations he will share with another. The body, the natural juices,
the sexual responses, the fantasies, will all stay in control no matter how
determined one might be to subdue them.

Slowly, Barney started to work his dick out of her ass hole. He had been
sucked dry by the undulating movement of the anal opening. When be pulled
out of her, he started to pull on the cucumber. It was a little mushy and
warm where her clinging cunt flesh had clasped onto it. It was covered with
cunt juice and some of that juice had seeped into the vegetable.

He held the cucumber up to the girl's lips and hissed, "Lick it off."

"I ... I don't like cucumber ... " she said in a very weak whisper.

"And I don't care what you like and what you don't like. Now lick it off."

Slowly, knowing that she was bound to the bed and would not be untied
until he chose to do so, the girl worked her tongue over the surface of the
warm cucumber. She tasted her own cunt juice for the first time. Her body
seemed to be heating up all over again.

"Damn you," he mumbled. Then he tossed the vegetable down and got into
position right over her face with his filthy dick dangling close to her
lips. She looked up and knew what he wanted.

She tried to turn her face away, but he grabbed her soft blonde hair with
his powerful black fingers. He tugged on the hair as he snarled, "Take it
in your mouth if you ever want to be untied from this bed."

It was a threat, really an idle threat. He couldn't keep her there
forever. She knew she had been able to sense, that he was not going to do
anything really desperate to her. She sensed that he wouldn't take her life
or do permanent damage to her, and that was the bottom line.

It was at this point, somewhat revolted by his demand, that she knew she
could, if she really wanted to, fight him off on this point. She could
manage to keep her mouth from being violated by his filthy dick. And yet,
there was a longing inside of her.

The orgasm she had experienced while she was tied up had been the greatest
of her sexual life. Pamela had thought that finding the perfect orgasm
involved taking complete control over her sex life. She now realized that
she could move closer toward perfection simply by losing herself in the sex
act, by giving herself over to it, by becoming enslaved to it.

And so her lips parted and the filthy head of the cock slid between them.
Soon, the black dick was pumping in and out of her mouth. She couldn't take
the full length of it in her throat no matter what. It was slamming against
the depths of her throat and spreading apart the muscles in the back of her
throat. She gagged each time that happened.

Each time she gagged the cock was pushed back out of her mouth and that
would cause the sensitive flesh under the cock head to be rubbed along the
girl's tongue. That would send a tingling sensation up the girl's spine and
a tingling through the man's balls.

He was holding onto her hair as he pumped up and down in her mouth. His
dick had been cleaned off and now he was just pumping away as he liked. But
suddenly he pulled out of her throat.

His cock was as hard as a metal spike. He mounted her and she was prepared
to feel the intrusion of his cock inside her ass hole again. But this time
she felt the cock head right up against the lips of her pussy. She was
lubricated with cunt cream and cucumber juice.

He was able to push the flared head of his dick right into the hot opening
of the cunt. Then he pressed forward and slid directly, his stiffness
holding fast as he pressed against the depths of hr body.

Then he pulled his dick back a little bit and pushed forward again. He was
working his cock in and out and in and out of the hot hole. He slammed
against the deepest depths of the cunt and then he pulled all the way back
until the flared bead of his cock was pulling right up against the
clitoris. The clit tingled with excitement.

Immediately, Pamela was on the verge of another orgasm. She was hot, very
hot.

The big black cock slammed all the way into her, pushing against the
depths of her body with the fist-like head of it. Then it pulled all the
way back against the clitoris again.

He pushed forward and then pulled back. It was a continual movement of his
dick inside her.

They were both right on the verge and holding back. Holding back until
they couldn't hold back any longer.

"Araarghhh!" she cried out as her cunt walls pulled taut.

His dick slammed forward, partially from the power of his hips and
partially from the suction pressure of the cunt walls around his throbber.
They were locked together in a moment of orgasmic lust.

Just when she thought that she was going to finish cumming, she felt the
pulsating cock slapping against the walls of her pussy and she was forced
to continue the passionate sensations in her body.

And as for him, he kept being tugged by the pussy flesh and that made his
orgasm continue.

They were both completely worn out, completely drained, when he pulled out
of her.

Once he pulled out of her there was a heaviness about his attitude. He
started to untie her from the bed. He didn't say anything to her as he did
that. She was massaging her wrists and her ankles, to try to get the
circulation back in them once again.

Then he turned to the side of the bed and started to gather up his
clothes.

When Pamela saw what he was doing, she quickly said, "Don't you want to
take a shower?"

He turned to look at her, surprised by the generosity of the offer since
he had just been her captor. "Yes. I would like that," he said, glancing at
her from the side of his eye.

Then he stood up and turned to her as he asked, "The bathroom through
here."

"I'll run it for you," she said. She had taken on the tone of a polite
hostess.

Barney was confused, unsure of how she was responding to him and to the
things that had just happened between them. She was running the water of
the shower for him when she turned in his direction and smiled, strangely,
at the handsome, naked black man.

"You're not tied to the bed now, Pamela. You can do whatever you want to
do."

"I'm doing what I want to do," she said, almost reverting to her old tone
of voice, snotty, superior, sure. But then she became kittenish again as
she continued, "May I come into the shower with you and wash your back for
you?"

"I give you permission for that," he said, nodding his head as he stepped
into the tub shower She stepped in right behind him and started to lather
up the soap on his back. Then he turned around, his arms still at his
sides, and she lathered his powerfully defined chest.

"You'd better watch out," he said, as she started to lather the soap along
his stiffening dick. 'If you get it hard again I might just have to toss
you down right here and rape the hell out of you again, bitch."

"Oh, sir. Yes, sir," she said as her fingers started to work even faster 
along the stiffness of his prick. It was standing up in her fingers in less
than another minute.

He knew what he wanted and now she knew what she wanted. She had been
forced to discover it, to admit it. And now that she bad discovered it for
herself, this new option of being dominated, she knew that she loved it.


The End
