The Five Amigos

The Five Amigos
- Sam Darquesied

Having read many, many erotic stories involving self bondage I have come to realize that there are a few universal—and frustrating-- elements to virtually all these tales: you WILL get caught; the one who happens along will ALWAYS be a self centered, vindictive, and cruel blackmailer; you WILL be made to do horrible, degrading things that will ruin your life forever; you are so weak willed and horny that you WILL comply no matter what.

Oh PLEASE!!! Must this ALWAYS be the case?

While many aspects of the stories are titillating and, yes, I have been provoked to use my fingers on myself as I read, I still find the notion of complete submission to a vicious, hateful tormentor to be an immediate turn off.

I have read stories from online BDSM clubs involving real people and, while the activities are usually much tamer than their fictional counterparts, there is a ubiquitous theme—the submissive is ultimately in control. She can stop things if they go too far and she can dictate the level of activity to remain within her sphere of pleasure. These are NOT weak willed women in any way.

There must be women out there who are able to combine some of the elements of the fiction with the fact. I needed to be one of those.

* * *

The bus ride home was long and, to while away the time, I had printed out several selections from an online bondage story archive. The idea of being bound naked in front of several young men WAS exciting to me and daydreams of performing certain acts for them would definitely get me off but there was a line that my mental meanderings would not cross. There was one thing for sure; I wanted to make my fantasies become reality but not the way these stories went; I had to be in control.

About a mile from town we passed the local “gang” riding bicycles along the county road; probably heading for Brokenfront pond. These boys had been a fixture around here since grade school, virtually inseparable for the past several years. If you saw one you knew the others were nearby. They were probably around fifteen to seventeen now and still hung out together year round. As in any small, rural community, there is little for boys their age to do and they got thrown out of Booker’s Mall with a regularity that will be missed when they grow up.

The boys were known as the “Five Amigos” locally and were ostensibly “led” by Carter Murray, the oldest of the group. The youngest was little William “Boomer” van den Boom, definitely the runt of the litter and always at the end of the bicycle line. There was Frederick “Freddie B” Bomax whose family has lived around here for generations, and Marc Langfordshire who was unquestionably the most handsome young man in these parts; obviously destined to be a heartbreaker in his adult years. Lastly was Michael “Mikey” Chen whose family caused quite a stir when they moved to town and became the first Asians most of us had ever seen. I had thought about these boys quite a bit over the past semester, wondering how they would like to spend the summer playing with a naked college girl.

* * *

It was near the end of the semester when I made up my mind that I could, and would, make this happen. I had slept with three boyfriends in an equal number of years at university and all were sweet, kind, gentlemanly, and boring—especially the sex. The last, Kenneth, was almost a keeper. He was a wonderful man who treated me with nothing but love and respect and, he was actually pretty good in bed. Well, good in the traditional sense where sex with him was slow and romantic; the kind that most women would kill for, I guess. Unfortunately, I am not “most women”. Although I had only fantasized about it, I knew that the bondage, exhibitionism, and pain-for-pleasure thing was important to me and it was quickly clear that it just wasn’t for him.

Once the idea was set in my head I got to work. As an engineering major, it took very little time to come up with a couple of, what I consider to be, pretty clever self bondage escape mechanisms. It took much longer to formulate a plan as to how to approach the boys and ensure that we were all on the same page. After I had that set in stone all that was left was to purchase some essential paraphernalia and go home.

* * *

As the bus rolled to a stop in front of Darcy’s Pharmacy, I could see Dad waiting by the bench. My dad is a handsome man and he and I are pretty close especially after Mom passed away a few years ago. He is more or less retired now and financially set, having sold much of the farm to a developer. Notwithstanding my new plans, I had already decided to spend the summer studying and working on reports for the following term, foregoing any attempt to look for a summer job. He said that was okay with him adding that he would be spending a lot of time with his new girlfriend in Bristol, about a two hour drive from here.

We had a nice chat on the way to the farm and, after asking about my semester, he said that he was going to Maryianna’s virtually every weekend now. Dad normally returned on Monday afternoon but asked if I minded that he stayed there longer sometimes. I ensured him that I was happy they were hitting it off so well and that, after eight months in a cacophonous residence, I would relish an abundance of quiet time.

As we turned into our long, tree lined lane, I remembered why I loved this place so much. The farm was left with a little over a hundred acres after Dad sold the rest, and that was mostly pasture for a couple of horses. The house was a typical two story farmhouse which Dad had upgraded when he received the sale money. There was a large, very well maintained barn and an equally immaculate driving shed. Dad parked in front of the house and we went in, then Dad set about making us supper while I went up to my room to unpack. It was Tuesday.

* * *

At dinner we chatted about local stuff then Dad said; “Look Chris, I know you just got here but Marianna is having a birthday for her youngest tomorrow night and she asked if I could be there. You too, of course. What do you think?”

“Oh Dad, do you mind if I pass? I’ve been really looking forward to just veging out here for a couple of days.”

Dad answered; “Are you sure kiddo? She’d really like to see you again.”

“If it’s okay with you Dad I’d really rather stay here for now. We can go up together later in the summer maybe.”

“Whatever you want Christina… if that’s the case though, would you mind if I just stayed there through the weekend?”

Perfect! This meant I could move my plans up by a whole week. “No problem Dad. I am really happy for you and Marianna.”

I went up to bed right after dinner and drifted off to sleep reaffirming my plan with the boys, my escape designs, and all that was to come.

* * *

In the morning I stood and waved as Dad drove down the lane. I headed for the barn before he even reached the road and set about constructing and testing my first bondage rig. It would end up in a tight, suspended spread-eagle set between two heavy barn pillars. I had purchased comfortable, top quality wrist and ankle cuffs, all with cleverly designed panic release mechanisms. I designed the rig as a semi integrated system where the rope for my arms was looped through the leg rope. This stretched me very tight but when any one of the panic releases were activated the entire rope rig would collapse, freeing all four limbs. It took very little time to set up using natural hemp rope, some hardware that I had brought along, and a couple of car springs from the driving shed. The springs would snap the rig tight when they were triggered. I tested the rig with bags of seed and then a couple of times by fixing the leg rope ends to the pillars and actually hanging myself by the wrists. Even with all my weight hanging I had no difficulty in twisting my hand and releasing either cuff. A couple of more rigs and I was ready for stage two.

The next day I dressed in a tight set of short shorts and a very slinky halter top, got together the paperwork I needed and hopped on my bike for a trip to the pond. Once there I just sat in the grass reading an engineering text and waited.

The Amigos and I chatted often over the years and I knew that all five boys had a crush on me—especially Marc whom they teased incessantly; “Marc and Chrissie sitting in a tree…” It was cute and I was pretty sure that all of them had me in their fantasies.

Like clockwork the familiar line of bicycles arrived just after one o’clock.

“Hey Christina, I didn’t know you were home.” yelled Carter.

They all shouted hi and I responded; “Just got back yesterday Carter. So, how are the Amigos doing?”

They hopped off their bikes, sat with me on the grass and began to relate tales of all the school year’s hijinks and the trouble they had gotten into so far this summer.

When I finally got a chance to get a word in I asked; “So, what do the famous Five Amigos have planned for the rest of the summer?”

They all responded with more or less the same words; the general consensus was; “Same old thing.”

“Well I have a proposal that may change that… are you interested?”

They all looked at each other as though they thought I was planning a bank robbery then Carter asked; “Maybe… what have you got in mind?”

“Well, before we go any further I have two stories here that I got off the Internet. I’d like you all to read them then we’ll meet here again tomorrow and talk some more. Okay?”

They all stared at the envelope in my hand then Carter said; “So, just read the stories then meet you here tomorrow?”

“Yep, that’s it… for now. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

I handed him the envelope, got on my bike and I said; “Read them carefully guys… maybe a couple of times ‘cause there’ll be a quiz.”

As I rode home I pictured them reading the pages of my two favorite self bondage tales and wondered what their dreams would be like tonight.

* * *

They next day the Amigos were at the pond before I got there, sitting in the grass in a huddle. They all said hi as I arrived but they didn’t look me in the eye and I thought that I may have made a mistake. “So what did you think of the stories?”

Marc was first to speak; “They were… uh…”

“SEXY!” blurted Mikey and we all laughed.

“Tell me what the first story was about Marc, in your opinion.”

Marc nervously began; “Well… it was about a girl who got excited by tying herself up but then she got caught and the guy treated her real bad and made her do awful things.”

I asked him; “What about the girl? How did she feel when all this was happening?”

Boomer answered; “It was kinda weird… she hated all the men but she kind of liked… you know… getting touched and stuff.”

Freddie B added; “Yeah… she had ‘squishies’ even when they hurt her and even when they had sex in her bum.”

Everybody looked at the ground and giggled a bit then I asked; “A ‘squishie’ is an orgasm, right?”

More giggling then Freddie nodded that it was.

“Carter, you’re the oldest so do you mind if I ask a kind of personal question?”

Looking a little puzzled he said; “I guess…”

I said; “Don’t be embarrassed okay? But, did you get a little turned on by the story?”

There was more giggling but Carter answered; “Well sure… I guess but, I didn’t like what happened to her.”

Good answer I thought as I continued; “Good. That brings us to the next question… what would you have done if you had been the guy that caught her that night?”

They all agreed that they would free her from her embarrassing predicament.

I stopped them cold with the next question; “What if she didn’t want to be released?”

After a moment Marc asked; “What do you mean Chrissie?”

I took a deep breathe; “Let me put it another way. What If I was the girl who was naked and tied up? What if I told you that I liked you and trusted you and that I liked being tied up and getting touched by you—all of you. What if I said that I would like you all to whip me and do other things that made me have orgasms? What if I said that I would like to do things to you that would give you ‘squishies’ as well? Would that be exciting for you?”

They sat stunned and looked at each other, none knowing what to say next.

I broke the silence and asked; “Would you have done what the girl… what I asked?”

Again there was a long silence until Marc spoke; “Yeah… I guess… yeah.”

“What about the rest of you?”

Yet another silent moment then Freddie B asked; “Do you mean that you would like all that stuff in the story to happen to you?”

“No Freddie, not at all. The girl liked the idea of being tied and touched and even whipped a little but not all the other bad stuff. The guy that found her was selfish and cruel. He thought of her as nothing better than a piece of meat. Nobody would want that. I would never want that to happen. I would only want it to happen with boys that I liked and cared for and they cared for me too. It would have to be with boys that would never want to hurt me.”

Mikey asked; “What would you want Chrissie?”

“Well, I have a list here and I would like for you guys to read it very carefully and then talk it over. If you agree with EVERYTHING on the list then Carter can e-mail me tonight and we’ll go from there, okay?”

They all immediately nodded yes so I gave them the list and rode home. As I pedaled, I went over the list in my head:

- First and foremost, I am ALWAYS in charge. When I say stop, you must do so immediately. If I want to be released you will do that immediately as well. - There will be a prescribed “safe word” and when it is uttered everything must stop immediately and any gag must be removed. - Only the Amigos can participate. No one else must ever know of this or be invited to attend. - You may only whip me with devices that I approve and in a fashion that I approve. You must NEVER whip me hard enough to leave a permanent mark. - Anything that will go inside me, including your cocks, can only go in where I say and when I say. - You must NEVER use anything in or on my body that could cause serious and/or permanent damage. - If the above rules are followed without failure then I will do my utmost to make this the very best summer you have ever had. I will do things for and to you that will be better than anything you have ever fantasized. - If ALL of you agree to all this and ALL of you would like to participate then e-mail me tonight please.

Well, the cat was out of the bag now so all I could do was wait for the e-mail.

* * *

Just before dinner I checked my computer and… there it was; an e-mail from Carter saying that they all would like to participate. I sent him a reply asking them all to meet me in our barn at ten o’clock the next morning. Within a minute I received the response; “Okay. 5A.”

In the morning I set up my “undressing rig”. It again was a low suspension rig that used the wrist and ankle cuffs but the ropes held my arms straight up and my legs straight down, just a few inches off the floor. This way they could undress me by sliding my shirt and bra up my arms and over the ropes and my pants and panties down, over those ropes, to the floor. I wrote out instructions and a list of things they could do because I thought they might find it embarrassing if I talked them through everything plus, it allowed the use of a gag. Twice I tested to ensure that I could free myself. At five minutes to ten I inserted the gag, strapped in, triggered the rig which immediately snapped me into position, and waited.

The note, a rubber flogger, and some clothes pins were on a barrel just to my right so they couldn’t miss them. In the note I specified a safe word as “mercy” and stated that, if I had a “squishie” I would let them know by saying “I’m coming”.

I was wearing a pair of sweat pants and a sweatshirt assuming that the gradual appearance of my nakedness as they removed the frumpy clothing would add some excitement. I wore a bra and even socks and shoes figuring the more clothing they had to remove the better the thrill. I chuckled at my efforts to please them just as I heard the sound of bicycle tires on gravel near the barn door.

The Amigos entered as a group and, as their eyes snapped to my hanging predicament, I could see their crotches immediately expand. They said hi then Boomer picked up the note and they all bunched around him to read it.

After some discussion Boomer and Mikey moved in and removed my shoes and socks. They all seemed fascinated to see even my feet naked. Marc then stepped up, put his hands under the bottom of the sweatshirt and pushed it up over my head and onto the ropes, fixing it there with a couple of the clothes pins. He stepped back and they just stared for a moment. They’d all seen my in a bikini top but this was different. Seeing me in my bra, after having stripped me of my shirt, excited them a great deal and I could see that Mikey had already stained his shorts.

Carl stepped up now and followed my instructions very well as he undid the rear clasp, slid the bra up to the ropes and secured it with more clothes pins. He stepped back and all eyes were fixed on my boobs. My breasts are what many call a perfect thirty six c and the Amigos obviously approved. I couldn’t help but smile around the gag as I noticed all but Carter had followed Mikey’s earlier example.

The rest were contented to watch as Carter knelt down, grabbed my sweatpants at the cuffs and slowly pulled them down to the floor. Without standing he reached up, grabbed the sides of my white cotton panties and, again very slowly, pulled them until they joined the sweatpants. He got up and backed away to join the others as all eyes scanned my stripped, naked form. I could see that Carter had joined his comrades and enjoyed his first “squishie” of the day.

I had written the instructions in a number of stages and as the boys turned the page to stage two they all bent in to study my direction as to how to touch and fondle various body parts. The next item on the list was an invitation to, as a group, step forward and practice what they had learned. Instantly there were ten hands rubbing, squeezing, and fondling virtually every square inch of skin on my naked body—even my feet. Boomer was rubbing them and sometimes it felt nice but the little bugger was tickling me too, then the others soon noticed my little squeals and jerks in the ropes; and joined in. They began to use fingertips on my armpits, my sides, my boobs, and Carter was lightly grazing my butt. It was driving me mad and I writhed and pulled hard on the ropes and laughed uncontrollably. They were delighted with my reaction and were laughing hard themselves as they sped up their torment. I fought the urge to call for “mercy” when I felt Marc rubbing my clit very softly but quickly; I’m not even sure he knew what he was doing but his touch and the tickling were making me very, very, VERY wet. And then…

“I’m coming… I’m COMING… DON’T STOP PLEEZZZZ… COMING…”

It was an unexpected and wonderful orgasm. I’ve never had one in this type of circumstance and I reveled in its power. I could feel dripping from between my legs and wondered if the Amigos noticed and, if so, did they know what it was. When it started to ebb I had to tell Marc to stop rubbing as my vulva becomes very sensitive after I come. He did immediately and I was happy that he, and the others, were following the rules I had prescribed—notwithstanding the tickling. They stepped away and began to futz with their newly moistened crotches which were obviously becoming somewhat uncomfortable.

When page three was turned there was a distinct hesitation among the boys as they looked at the page then up at me and I knew that some discussion was in order so I spoke into the gag; “Mercy.”

Marc came over, undid the Velcro, removed the appliance from my mouth, “accidentally” rubbed my boob, and then stepped back.

With more than a little sarcasm I said; “Well, you guys seemed to enjoy that! But, if I recall correctly, tickling isn’t on the list!”

They all shrugged and giggled then Carter said; “It was hard to resist Chris; with you squirming and squealing like that but, you seemed to like it too.”

“Well… yes, it was kind of fun and, you’re right, I did have a ‘squishie’ but you guys have to promise me that you will follow the rules from here on in. You can’t do things to me first then ask if it’s okay.”

The heat in my loins grew as I admonished the Amigos. I had been in a constant state of wetness since the ropes pulled me into position but, the abrupt realization that I was hanging there, stark naked and stretched, in front of those boys and casually chatting with them, added another dimension.

They all shuffled about and looked at the floor but they meekly apologized and said it wouldn’t happen again.

“Thanks guys… now, you see that the next stage involves whipping so I need you to read the instructions carefully, okay? Remember, this is new for me too and... I think it’s best if we leave the gag off this time.”

They agreed then started to argue over who was going first so I intervened; “Maybe Mikey should go first then Boomer, Freddie B, Marc, and Carter.”

They stopped quibbling and Mikey headed for the bullwhip hanging on the barn wall; “NO MIKEY! Not the bullwhip—never EVER the bullwhip. We use the flogger; the rubber thing on the barrel.”

A little embarrassed, Mikey moved to the barrel and picked up the flogger, then walked behind me and asked; “Okay Chrissie?”

“Go ahead Mikey.”

I grew more excited as I anticipated my first ever touch of the lash and I braced myself for the sting but Mikey’s blow to my butt cheek was very soft, tickling more that it hurt. “A little harder Mikey, okay?”

He said okay then tried again and his tenth lash stung a bit. I realized that he wasn’t going to hit any harder so I said; “How about we call that practice, Mikey, and you take ten more now for real.”

The little guy wasted no time in taking up my offer and struck ten quick lashes to my ass, alternating cheek to cheek. They weren’t terribly hard but the rapid blows did cause me to wince and softly fanned the flames in my abdomen. I soaked up all the new feelings that rippled through my body at my first encounter with the whip. I realized that if this was done correctly it could be exquisite and I hoped that I would someday meet a man as sweet as Kenneth who also knew how to wield a flogger.

Boomer grabbed the whip from Mikey and took up a position behind me. I asked that he spank the back of my legs, just below my ass. He agreed and I could tell by his voice that he liked the use of the word “spank”. His first hit was pretty good and caused me to jerk in the ropes and, to everyone’s delight, I squealed; “OO!”

Boomer asked if it was too hard and I said it was just right and not to vary the strength at all. Then he asked if he was allowed the practice swings like Mikey and I agreed that he, and the rest of the boys, could have a total of twenty instead of the ten I had set out. Lastly, Boomer asked if he could “spank” all the different parts that I had in the instructions and, again, I agreed but I asked him to be careful when he got to my breasts. His next blow was immediate and to my other leg; “Owwww…. That’s two!”

I counted out all his lashes as he methodically, and with remarkable skill, moved from my legs to my sides, then to my armpits. They were stinging blows and each caused me to pull hard on my restraints and cry out. He moved to my tummy and down to my abdomen then, with six to go, he suddenly moved to my breasts. He struck his remaining blows one after the other; hard and so fast that I couldn’t count. The lashes stung terribly and caused me to gasp and hold my breath and… I began to cry.

A surprised and concerned Boomer said; “Oh Chris, I’m sorry! It was too hard, wasn’t it?”

It took a second for me to compose myself; not from the pain or tears but from the unbelievable fire between my legs. I had never in my life been that aroused without having an orgasm and I was savouring the new and marvelous sensations that pulsated throughout my being. Finally I was able to tell Boomer that it was okay and that he had done a terrific job. Then I asked Freddie to get to it as quickly as he could.

He more or less followed Boomer’s path, starting on my bum and ending at my boobs. He wasn’t as skilled as Boomer but he hit just as hard—hard enough to keep the tears flowing and the fire building. When Marc’s first lash landed on my butt cheek I was so hot that it actually scared me. How could I be this aroused and not explode in orgasm?

Marc was again following Boomer’s route but his strikes were not quite as severe. I knew he was capable of hitting much harder but it just wasn’t in his heart to do so. Regardless, my body was stinging everywhere and any strikes caused me to cringe and cry out. Through my sobs I was shouting things like; “OH GAWD… PLEASE… NO MORE…” but I had been very explicit—only the word “mercy” meant anything and everything else should be ignored.

As Carter moved in behind me I asked Marc if, when the whipping started, he could rub my pussy as he had before. He obliged me just as Carter began, again tracing Boomer’s course. Surprisingly, Carter’s hits were even softer than Marc’s but… they were more than enough; “I’M COMING… OH GAWD… I’M COMING… DON’T STOP CARTER… MARC PLEASE… DON’T STOP!”

It felt like my loins had split wide open and were gushing forth gallons of some soft, warm, luxurious liquid. My body went rigid while the convulsions in my abdomen were unbelievably hard—almost, but not quite, painful. Then I began to writhe in my restraints as Carter kept whipping my tummy and breasts. I was actually fighting the orgasm, needing it to stop but wanting it to last forever. It was… glorious!

As the flood began to ebb I began to uncontrollably jerk against Marc’s rubbing of my frighteningly sensitive crotch and Carter’s incessant blows to my chest and boobs. Breathlessly I gasped; “Please stop now Marc… Carter please… MERCY!”

They stopped and Marc said; “Chris… are you okay?”

Still jerking a bit and panting very hard I answered; “I’m… okay… just give… give me a minute…”

As I began to calm down I looked at the Amigos and saw that all had re-moistened their pants. Mikey, wearing shorts, had small rivulets of cream streaming down the inside of his thigh. I beamed a huge smile at them and told them how great this was and how wonderful they had been then, since the session was over, I asked them to free me. They followed my instructions and released me from the rig. None new of the panic escape mechanisms—that was going to remain my secret.

Once free and still naked, I went to each and kissed them sweetly on the mouth. To a man they all blushed which was amusing considering what we had just been through. They all turned away as I got dressed and I knew I had chosen the right people for my foray into this new world of ropes and whips. Then I asked them to come up to the house for some cold drinks.

We sat on the front porch and talked for more than an hour about what they thought of today’s activities and what they liked the most. They all liked different things: the whipping; the touching; watching me come; stripping me; just looking at me stretched naked in the ropes. I blushed a bit as they talked about me like I was the star of their favourite movie. They all yammered about these things and how this was the best summer ever; though Carter didn’t talk much.

I stood and waved to them as they biked down the lane and smiled to myself thinking their dreams would be of the wet variety tonight for sure. Walking back to the house I recalled how it felt to be bound up and on display, naked and “helpless”, for these teenagers and began to feel a stirring between my legs. This, I decided, was as good a time as any to try out my new “Superball” vibrator.

* * *

The next day, while cleaning up after lunch, I heard a knock on the front screen door and saw the Amigos peering in.

“Hey Chrissie… it’s us… can we come in?” shouted Boomer.

“Yeah, sure. Come on in guys. What’s up?”

Mikey blurted; “Is you dad home yet?”

“No… he won’t be back ‘til tomorrow sometime. Why do you ask?”

Freddie B spoke up now; “Well… we were wondering if… you know… maybe we could… you know… do more… uh… stuff!”

The little horny buggers obviously couldn’t wait until next weekend. “Oh, really? And just what did you have in mind?”

Carter burst out; “We want to rape you!”

The boys looked at him in puzzlement; “What?”

Marc said; “Carter, we never…”

Carter interrupted; “It wouldn’t actually be rape since you’d be willing right? It would be like play acting.”

Marc again tried to speak, “Carter, we didn’t talk about…”

Again Carter interrupted; “We’d just hold you down and strip you and then maybe I… er… we could put our cocks inside you. Maybe we could use the gag and you could fight a bit… you know… play acting. You can always use the safe word if you don’t like it.”

The idea of stripping me appealed to the rest of the boys and they abruptly ceased whatever protests they were attempting to voice. It occurred to me that yesterday’s activities were mostly for my benefit so I kind of owed them and I had told them that they could “diddle” me, as Mikey liked to call it, sooner or later so it seemed like a good a time as any.

“Okay, I guess we can try it. Would you like me to change?” I was wearing an old pair of cutoffs and a grubby tee shirt, with a tear in the collar, and no bra, just panties.

Carter said I was fine as I was and sent Mikey to get the ball gag then he explained how four of them would hold my limbs and force me to the floor then he would strip my clothes off. He said I should fight and say things like; “STOP… PLEASE STOP” or “NO, NO, NO!”

When Mikey returned with the gag I put it in right away, before we started so they wouldn’t hurt my mouth trying to force it. Then I spread my legs a bit, held out my arms, and nodded that they could begin.

The two bigger boys, Freddie and Marc, took hold of my arms while Boomer and Mikey grabbed my ankles. When I felt they had a good grip I began to struggle as Carter had suggested and yell into the gag; “STOP… WHAT ARE YOU DOING… LET ME GO…LET ME GO!”

The boys started to really get into it as they lowered me to the floor; I didn’t want to spoil it for them so I didn’t struggle too hard. Marc and Freddie held my arms above my head and apart while the other two held my ankles together. I started to get a little excited myself as Carter straddled me and grabbed the tee shirt collar. He had a hungry, almost evil look in his eyes which I dismissed to play acting but it was a bit disturbing.

Carter gave one hard yank and ripped the tee shirt wide open, exposing my breasts. The boys were panting now and it was easy to see that this was exciting them immensely and me a fair bit as well. He moved down so he could undo the buttons on my shorts and, wasting no time, he gave a sharp pull and slid them down my legs.

“NO… NO… PLEASE DON’T… PLEASE DON’T STRIP ME!”

Mikey and Boomer maneuvered their grips so they could remove the shorts completely then Carter reached for my panties. His look was even more intense then before and a bit of drool dropped on my chest. He grabbed the panties and roughly yanked them to my ankles and the two boys again adjusted their grip to remove the underwear completely.

“NO… NO… LET ME GO… PLEASE LET ME GO!”

Carter told Mikey and Boomer to spread my legs wide apart then he said; “Okay guys, I’m going to do her now and do her hard!”

The boys laughed but it made me a little uncomfortable—they way he said it—and my arousal immediately dissipated.

Carter had his pants down already and moved up between my legs, his cock—a pretty good size for a seventeen year old--was straight out like a steel pole. He jabbed at my vagina a few times before finally finding the point of entry then grabbed my boobs with both hands and jammed himself hard into me. It wasn’t pleasant. His face was screwed up and red as he rammed his pubic bone against mine and really squeezed my breasts hard. He was hurting my boobs and pubes and I was almost ready to call “mercy” when I felt him fire his cream into me.

He only lasted about four pumps before he let go and he rolled off me with a deep, satisfied sigh. I was happy that he was able to have a good orgasm but I felt dirty; like I really had been raped. Carter then said it was the Marc’s turn and I decided to stop this now. It didn’t seem fair to the other boys but I really didn’t like this, then…

“No thanks. I don’t want to do that.”

Carter looked at Marc and grew angry; “What do you mean? We were all supposed to do her. We agreed!”

Marc retorted; “No we didn’t Carter! We never agreed to this and I don’t think Chris liked it at all!” as he spoke he released my arm and the others followed suit. I undid the gag and tried to speak to Carter; “It’s okay Carter. Nobody has to do anything they don’t want…”

“SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU SHUT UP!” he was crying now and screaming at us; “We were ALL supposed to bang her! She promised! You all promised!” then he ran out, slamming the screen behind him.

We all watched through the window as Carter stormed down the lane on his bike then I asked the others to wait while I went upstairs to clean myself up and get some clothes.

When I came back to the living room the boys all apologized for what had transpired and told me that Carter had been acting kind of weird all summer. Lately, he got angry often and sometimes yelled at store clerks and other people for no apparent reason. Then Mikey, never one to hold back what he was thinking, said; “When are we gonna get to diddle you, Chris?”

I couldn’t help but laugh with the others but I had anticipated this while getting dressed. I had put on a white button blouse and a short black skirt. Underneath I had put on a lacey red push up bra and squeezed into matching lace thong panties. “What would you like me to do, Master Mikey?”

All eyes perked up and they began to shout over top of one another that I should strip.

“Whoa! Please masters, one at a time. If you could just tell me which article of clothing that I must remove. Master Mikey, what would you like me to do?”

Mikey sat on the edge of his seat and said; “The blouse! Take off the blouse!”

“Yes, Master Mikey, if it pleases you.” I said, behaving like their slave. I slowly unbuttoned my blouse and, slower still, opened it, slid it back on my shoulders then, let it slip down my arms to the floor.

Mikey whispered; “Wow!” at the sight of the lacey red brassiere then Boomer said; “Now the skirt Chris. Take off the skirt okay?”

“Yes, Master Boomer, if it pleases you.” I stuck my hip out a little and slowly unzipped the side of the skirt then, turning around, I bent over and gradually slipped the skirt to the floor. I turned back, stepped out of the skirt and kicked it to the side. “Is that acceptable Master Boomer?”

“Oh yeah! That’s great! Now the…”

Freddie interrupted; “Hey it’s my turn!”

I asked; “What would you have me do, Master Freddie?”

Excitedly he said; “The bra Chris. Take off the bra okay Chris?”

“Of course, Master Freddie, whatever you desire.” I turned again and reached behind to undo the clasp then, holding the bra to my breasts, I slid the straps off my shoulders and over my arms. I then turned back facing them and slowly lowered the bra, until my boobs were fully exposed, and let it fall to the floor.

The sight of me standing before them, naked except for my red lacey thong, was almost too much for them to bear. They were getting very excited, panting now, and getting red in the face. Then Marc spoke; “Please remove your panties Chris. Very slowly, okay?”

“Yes Master Marc, if it is what you wish.” This submissive slave thing was beginning to turn me on pretty good! They had seen me naked before but parading myself for them like this and obeying their commands was very hot; as was Marc’s sudden commanding tone!

Once again I turned and slowly, very slowly, I slid the thong down my legs, wiggling my bottom a little as I went. I straightened up and put my hands in front to cover up then turned back waiting for my next command.

Marc, catching on to the game, said; “Move your hands to you side please.”

Marc always had been the most mature of the Amigos but he seemed to be taking to this like a duck to water. Seemingly to clarify for the others Marc asked; “Please tell us what you are now Christina.”

“I am your slave young masters; your plaything.”

I couldn’t get over Marc’s assertive tone. He sounded so calm; so confident; so… mature! “Very good, slave Christina. Now, I would like you to place your hands behind your head please.”

Each command he gave virtually doubled my arousal and, as I complied with the order, I again felt a great deal of moisture between my legs.

“Good. Now spread your legs wide apart little slave; as wide as you can.”

Immediately I obeyed, spreading my feet about four feet apart. Any further and I would fall over. “Is this acceptable, Master Marc?” DAMN! This was getting me hot.

In his imposing tone he stated; “You are doing very well slave Christina. Now please remain in that position while we inspect you.”

Jesus! My vagina felt like it was being tickled by hundreds of little hands and one touch to my clit was going to be earth-shattering!

They immediately stood up and began rubbing and touching me everywhere. There were hands on my butt; my boobs; my tummy; the inside of my legs; everywhere—except between my legs. Dammit! Then Marc spoke again; “Oh my, my, little slave. I see many drips falling from you pussy. Would our little slave like us to give her an orgasm now?”

What I wanted to say was; “Bloody right I would pal, now get on with it!” What I did say was; “Oh yes please Master Marc.”

Teasing me now Marc asked; “And what would our little slave do for us in return?”

At that moment, if he asked, I would have had his children! But, I knew what they wanted; “I would pleasure you all with my mouth Master Marc.”

Immediately I felt two fingers slide into my vagina and zero in on my G-spot. Marc pressed two fingers from his other hand against my clit and rubbed in little circles. It was clearly no fluke last time; this son-of-a-gun knew what he was doing!

“I’M COMING… OOOO I’M COMING… COMING… COMING…”

The eruption was cataclysmic! My body went rigid and I fought to maintain my stance. The convulsions in my abdomen were rapid and catastrophic. I clenched every muscle in my body, scrunching my face in a cringe that forced my eyes closed. I felt like I might fire my womb out of my belly into Marc’s hand. The boys were rubbing my butt, tummy, and thighs and squeezing my nipples like they were trying to put out a fire and Marc was in full command of my pussy, making it bend to his will. “OHGAWDOHGAWDOHGAWD…OHHHHHHHhhhhhh…”

As always I began to jerk against the touch on my now super-sensitive vulva and the boys had to steady me as it became difficult to hold my position. Through a luxurious fog I could hear Marc instructing the others to slow down and lighten their touch then he said; “Why don’t you kneel now and sit back on you heels with you arms down and hands at you sides.”

The classic “Story of O” position! I knew now that the bondage stories I had provided were not the first that Marc had read. But, I was getting pretty unsteady on my feet so it was good to kneel. Marc then said; “We will give you a couple of minutes to rest before you fulfill you duties, little slave.”

“Thank you, young masters. If it’s not too much trouble could I request some water please, Master Marc? And a basin and towel as well?”

Marc sent Boomer to fetch the items. When he returned from the kitchen he handed me the bottle of water and I emptied half of it in one gulp. Then Marc got up, stood in front of me and said; “We will need to tie your hands behind your back, little slave. Is there any rope handy?” I wasn’t sure if I was okay with that but I told him there was a four foot length on the kitchen table. When he returned with the hemp and knelt behind me I became a bit nervous but Marc whispered; “Don’t worry Chris, I’ll do it really loose.”

I had no panic release here but I wanted to trust him so I whispered back for him to go ahead. He was true to his word, wrapping a few loose coils then placing the ends in my hands. All I had to do was let go and the rope would fall away.

Marc sat back on the couch with the others and said; “You can begin now my little slave, starting with me. And, remember, failure to do your very best could increase today’s punishment.”

Punishment eh? Well this I had to see but for now I rose, moved to the couch and knelt again between Marc’s legs. As I waited for Marc to lower his pants the others repositioned themselves for a better view. When Marc revealed himself I was pleased to see that his penis was, for my tastes, almost the perfect size and, of course, standing at full attention like a soldier holding his breath. I moved in and took him into my mouth and was immediately reminded of his true age as he blew at my first touch. I had it in though so I sucked hard and swallowed, trying to get every drop out of him. He tried to push my head away but I wouldn’t let go until he was dry. When I did release his now bright red member he let out a long, very satisfied groan.

I asked for the water, basin, and towel and Boomer brought them to me. I took a swig, swished it around and spit it into the basin then Boomer wiped my face dry with the towel.

The others were pretty much the same, erupting on first contact, but Boomer, poor little guy, burst forth before I was able to get his little fellow into my mouth and he squirted his cum onto my cheek. He was terribly embarrassed but I told him it was okay and took his little cock in my mouth anyway, so he ended up pretty happy.

Mikey brought me the water and wiped my face then, still on my knees; I shuffled back to the centre of the room and sat back on my heels. “Did my performance meet with your approval, Master Marc?”

“You did very well, little slave, so tonight’s punishment will only be ten smacks of the hand each. Please stand up now.”

As I stood up Marc moved to a straight back chair with no armrests and sat, immediately motioning for me to bend across his knees. The conniving little devils wanted to spank me! Well… that worked for me, so I complied and lay across his lap. I had to remember to hold on to the rope ends so I wouldn’t spoil the illusion.

Marc began to whack my bum, alternating from cheek to cheek and it was… great! I squirmed and cried out; “OW… OWW!” but it was more for them than me. I loved it! He could do this to me any time he wanted!

When he got to ten he had me get back on my knees and stood saying; “Well, my little slave, what do you say?”

“Oh… thank you Master Marc. May I have more please?”

He said I could and motioned for Freddie B to take his place. As I bent across his knee I could feel his little cock poking me in the tummy. Freddie and Mikey both gave me their ten licks and I continued to squirm and cry; “Ouch… OW!” They all simply ate it up. Then it was Boomer’s turn.

When I lay across his lap I felt his little cock tip prod me. His smacks were not hard at all but, after each one, he would slide his hand down between my legs. “Little horny dickens!” I thought but then I realized it was probably the first girls’ pussy he had ever touched, so I spread a little bit to accommodate. After his fourth hit he started to go faster and a little harder and I immediately felt my tummy get wet as he creamed once again.

I moved off of Boomer’s lap and resumed my submissive kneeling position. Marc walked over to me, put a blanket around me, bent down a bit, and kissed me softly on the lips then said; “Little slave, you have done very well today so we now release you.”

I think it was the nicest afternoon we all had that summer.

* * *

The rest of the summer went all too quickly. Each weekend the now four Amigos would visit and we would try many variations in bondage and submission. I felt a little guilty that I was at partially responsible for fracturing the group but the boys assured me that Carter’s behavior over the past year had made the result inevitable.

The boys were wonderful, never breaking the rules except for the odd tickling engagement. There was no limit to their delight as I squirmed and convulsed with laughter and ultimately climaxed. I never added it to the list; it was their little taboo; a naughty thing that they would get away with and Marc always ensured that it ended in a breathtaking orgasm so… who am I to complain?

Twice, later in the summer, I allowed myself to be tied with ropes only, which took away my ability to escape on my own but they never abused my trust, always releasing me when requested. Once they used a downloaded diagram to bind me in a very complicated suspension hogtie. My wrists and elbows were tied securely behind me and attached to my crossed over ankles. The rig included ropes across my chest, just above my breasts, and others around my waist which permitted them to hoist me up with my knees far apart, vagina spread wide open and easily accessible. The suspension also arched my back providing extra access to my invitingly protruding boobs. At one point they used an internal vibrator inside me plus the “Superball” on my clit to bring me a gut ripping orgasm, after which the boys discovered they could adjust the suspension height to position my head, and mouth, at the ideal elevation to relieve them of the day’s anxieties.

Near the end of the summer the Amigos asked if, just once, they could be with me individually. It had never occurred to me that they might want to be with me alone but I understood and we arranged a time table, at two hour intervals, for the following Saturday.

Mikey and Freddie B just wanted oral stimulation or, as Mikey liked to call it, a “Hoover”. Unfortunately, neither boy’s endurance had improved much over the past two months so the sessions were fairly short but, we had nice chats after so I think there were pretty happy when they left.

Boomer was a little more ambitious. He wanted to strip me then use his fingers to give me a “squishie”. He complained that everyone but him had used their hands to bring me to orgasm in the past.

After changing into a button blouse, loose fitting shorts, and stretchy panties, I talked him through tying me to a chair with ropes attaching my wrists and thighs to the armrests and my ankles to the front chair legs. The ties were firm but easily escapable and, when he became engrossed in stripping me, I wiggled a hand free.

Boomer began to unbutton the blouse then his breathing changed to panting as he spread it open. He started to play with my nipples then asked; “Am I doing it nice, Chrissy?”

“Just a little softer Boomer, like you’re molding clay and when you do the nipples, roll them between your fingers and pull a little bit.”

He set about following my instructions but had a little trouble with the nipples; “Oooo… not so hard Boomer, okay?”

After a couple more false starts he got pretty good at it then asked; “Can I kiss them Chrissy?”

“Of course, Boomer. First try licking, then kissing, then sucking. You can nibble a bit too but remember; it’s NIBBLE, not bite.”

He practiced his new instructions and began to get the hang of it which started a little flame in my crotch. “You can suck a little harder Boomer… that’s better… a little more… oh yes, very nice. Nibble now… a little softer Boomer please… that’s better…, that’s good Boomer… now put them all together okay? First lick… now kiss… nice… now suck… oh, excellent… now nibble… OOOoooo Boomer!”

The little rascal was really beginning to turn me on and his face sported a broad, proud grin as he relished in his success. He moved down and unzipped my shorts. I lifted my bum a bit so he could slide them to my knees and held my position so he could slip my panties down as well. He was panting pretty hard and said; “Can you tell me how to do it Chris?”

“Sure Boomer… just put you hand there with your fingers pointing down… now slide your hand up slowly and… stop right there. Can you feel the little bump under your fingers? That’s my clitoris Boomer, so just use you finger tips to rub it in little circles.”

Panting even more Boomer said; “Like this Chris?”

“That’s good Boomer… you can press a little harder… yes, just like that! Oh, Boomer, you’re making me feel really nice!” I wasn’t kidding either.

“Now move your hand down and press your middle finger so it goes between the lips… good now… stop! Do you feel the hole with your finger tip? Just slide your finger in slowly okay? That’s very good… now move it in and out… a little slower Boomer… that’s good… yes Boomer… that’s perfect.”

We were both panting now so I got my free hand ready and said; “Keep doing that Boomer okay? And can you use your other hand to rub the little bump… yes that’s it… a little harder… yes… oh Boomer that’s so nice… keep doing that… I’m real close Boomer… keep…”

My dam burst forth and I quickly reached into Boomers shorts and grabbed his little warrior. It startled him and he jerked a bit then pumped twice and gushed into my palm.

Despite his own climax he kept rubbing until I asked him to stop then I asked him if he wanted me to keep my hand in his shorts for a while.

“Your hand is going to be messy Chris.” He said apologetically.

“That’s okay, Boomer, it’s a nice kind of messy.” I continued to massage his cock and it slowly began to get stiff again.

Breathlessly he said; “Keep doing that Chrissy… just for a lit… oh GEEZZZ!”

He exploded again and became unsteady on his feet. His ability to repeat so quickly still strikes me as a wonder of nature.

Boomer untied me and, after we both cleaned up, we talked for a bit and then he left; a very contented smile now permanently etched on his face.

Before Marc arrived I changed into an outfit similar to that of the first Sunday. I figured that he would want to do the submissive slave thing and I wanted to be prepared. When he arrived I took up a position on the front stoop, standing with my hands behind my back and eyes to the floor. As he approached I said; “Welcome Master Marc, It is a great pleasure to see you...”

Marc interrupted; “Actually Chris, if it’s okay with you I’d just as soon pass on the slave thing.”

A little surprised I answered; “Uh… sure Marc. What would you like to do?”

“I’d like to take you to bed.” As he said it he took my hand and led me up the stairs to my room. When we went in I thought he would sit on the bed and watch me strip but, instead he led me to the bed and started to undress me himself. He didn’t say a word as he slowly unbuttoned my blouse, slid it off my shoulders, and guided it off my arms. He placed it on a chair then moved behind me and softly kissed my neck as he undid the clasp of my bra, slowly slid it forward off my arms, and, again, placed it neatly on the chair. It was very romantic; romantic enough to put even Kenneth to shame.

Marc knelt in front of me and unzipped the side of my skirt and let it drop to the floor then, without getting up, he slipped his hands down my hips into my thong and, catching the band with his thumbs, he slowly let his hands drift down the sides of my legs pulling the undergarment as he went—it made me shiver. It was the most sensual disrobing I had ever experienced and, needless to say, it turned me on but, it was different; it was a slow burn rather than a two alarm blaze.

As I began to unbutton his shirt he gently grabbed my wrists to stop me then he pulled the covers completely off the bed and motioned for me to lie down. As I did he undressed himself and lay beside me, gently pushing my shoulder so I was lying on my back. I sensed that he wanted to do things on his own so I kept my arms by my side as he moved in and softly kissed me on the lips. Then he started to kiss my face; my forehead, eyelids, and cheeks, then my neck and shoulders, then slowly all over my breasts and finally my nipples. My slow burn began to heat up as he continued down my tummy, abdomen, and pubes, then ever so slowly down my legs to the tops of my feet. It was like a luscious feathery wave that my body was absorbing and directing straight to my vagina. The heat was rising fast as he gently nudged me to roll over.

Marc started again at my neck then slowly down my back, all the while gliding his hands down my sides. Almost involuntarily, I began to moan when his lips touched my bum. He was kissing and sucking a little and flicking his tongue; like he was kissing me on the lips. The fire within me was now a raging inferno and one touch to my clit would have launched me right out of the bed like a rocket.

Marc gently rolled me onto my back and I immediately spread my legs beckoning him to put out the flames. He was rock hard as he leaned down and whispered an advanced apology: “I’m sorry Chris, but I’ll probably blow as soon as I’m in. I just can’t help it… you’re so beautiful.”

I needed him inside me so bad but I had to help him if I could so I motioned him to wait a moment. Reaching into my nightstand drawer I retrieved an elastic band, double it over then held in over my finger tips like one holds a condom. I slid it down his penis to the base then let it snap into position. He jumped a bit as it grabbed him and he looked at me with puzzlement.

I whispered; “It might help you last longer.”

He shrugged and smiled then slid himself into my waiting vagina. My body welcomed him like a long lost friend and I felt the orgasm coming fast but it wasn’t at all like before. It didn’t hit me, it scooped me up as it passed and took me along for the ride. I wrapped my legs and arms around Marc and held on for dear life. The pressure passed through me in a slow but powerful crescendo of convulsions. He didn’t start with me but I knew it was only the elastic band holding back the torrent and it didn’t stand a chance. At the very peak of my eruption I felt his juice blast into me like a bursting dam. We writhed and gyrated and moaned together on the sheets as would two sumo wrestlers in love and I’m sure the bed was near collapse.

My limbs stayed tightly wrapped around Marc as the passing orgasm released me and I floated back to earth. As sure as death and taxes my body began to jerk in tune with his unceasing undulations against my hyper-sensitive pussy but I clung to him all the same.

In unison our muscles suddenly let go. His head dropped beside mine and my limbs slid off him to the bed. We just lay like that for ten minutes floating in our own little dream worlds. For those minutes no one else existed; just Marc and Christina, alone on planet Earth. I could love this young man… if only he were four or five years older.

* * *

On the Friday night of my last weekend before going back, I received a strange e-mail from Marc. It said that the Amigos had to do some school stuff on Saturday and would have to miss our last meeting, unless we could do it tonight.

I was really looking forward to the last session with the boys and I had even got them presents. I replied that I wasn’t all that well prepared for a session but it would be a shame to miss our last meeting so… okay, tonight would be fine.

Within seconds a reply came, saying that they were really happy and would be here at seven. They also asked if I could put myself in the spread-eagle rig before they arrived. I responded that I would but it was a little odd. Placing myself in that rig meant I had to be naked before locking in and, since the single most favourite Amigo activity was stripping me, I had to wonder if maybe there was some sort of time issue tonight.

After a trip to the washroom and a quick shower I headed out to the barn. It was five to seven so I quickly stripped, donned the cuffs and anklets, hooked into the ropes, and triggered the rig. As usual my arousal snapped in with the rig as I was instantly pulled into the tight spread-eagle. I closed my eyes and blissfully settled into my bondage, and then I heard the sound of a bike on the gravel.

Before I could react Carter stormed in and placed a large hunting knife to my throat; “That’s right bitch, it was me that e-mailed you from Marc’s computer. They’re all at the Triangle watching some stupid movie so don’t expect your hero to come to your rescue, bitch!” As he was speaking he was dropping his pants and underwear.

“Carter, why are you doing this? You know I was willing…”

“SHUT UP WHORE! SHUT UP! DON’T SAY ANOTHER FUCKING WORD! IF YOU SPEAK AGAIN I WILL SHOVE THIS RIGHT UP INTO YOUR TINY BRAIN!”

I began to cry realizing this was serious. I could feel blood trickle down my neck as the knife broke my skin. Carter was rubbing his penis to get hard as he said;

“I know you can free yourself somehow if you want to but if you make one move to escape I will kill you, you fucking slut whore!” Then he rammed himself into me.

He jammed brutally, in and out, all the while crying and screaming; “YOU’RE A BITCH… A WHORE… A DIRTY FUCKING SLUT…”

Sobbing, he pumped for over a minute but he couldn’t climax then he yanked himself out, threw down the knife, and reached for the bullwhip.

Carter stood about six feet in front of me and, with all his strength, he lashed out. The whip wrapped around my chest with a loud snap. I shrieked as my brain tried to process the searing hot pain and I couldn’t focus. He let a second lash fly and I felt the fire hit just below the last strike. He got one more in before I was able to trip the panic release on my wrist cuff and drop to the barn floor. I rolled up in a ball as he moved in and peppered me with the whip. He was too close to do any real damage and I had a chance to regroup and realized I had to fight back.

I uncurled myself and lunged at him, knocking him on his back. On my knees I straddled his chest and hit him with everything I had, over and over with my closed fist. He hit back with his hand and the butt of the whip but I just kept punching until, finally, I felt his nose collapse under my fist. His blood gushed and he shrieked and dropped the whip, trying to roll away from me. I quickly got off him, grabbed the whip, and moved about twelve feet away. Carter stood up and stared at me, hands to his face and blood oozing through his fingers.

I was standing in a crouch, bloodied, bruised and naked, and whip uncoiled ready to strike. “Carter, you know that I know how to use this thing and if you move one inch closer, you son-of-a-bitch, I will cut you to shreds!”

He stood for a moment, sobbing and swearing at me then he ran to his bike and stormed down the lane. I stood there panting and gasping, trying to focus as things began to get blurry and dark. Then I collapsed.

* * *

“Chris… Chrissie… Chris, wake up”

The voice seemed to be coming from far away.

“Chrissie… are you okay?”

Suddenly I thought it might be Carter again and I screamed and tried to crawl away.

“No, Chris… it’s okay… it’s me, Marc…”

“Marc? Oh, Marc…” I grabbed on to him and hugged him tight so he couldn’t leave; “Oh, Marc… it was Carter… he had a knife… and he raped… then the bullwhip”

Trying to console me Marc said; “It’s okay now Chris he’s gone.”

I was still so frightened and I began to babble; “No, Marc… he’s crazy! He might come back! We have to call the police…”

Marc pulled me close and hugged me tight and said; “You’re safe now Chris, Carter won’t be coming back.”

He was silent for a moment then began to cry a little and said; Chris… Carter is dead. A policeman shot him about a half hour ago.”

I pulled back and stared Marc in the eye then we hugged close again and sobbed on each other shoulders.

After a minute or so Marc regained some composure then, with his head still on my shoulders and still crying a little; “It must have been just after he was here. He went and got his dad’s rifle and started walking down the county road screaming that he was going to kill Vance Martindale. He was aiming the rifle at passing cars and scaring the shit out of everybody.”

Through my tears I asked; “Vance Martindale? Why him?”

Marc continued; “I don’t know… some stupid argument back in school or something… anyway, the police stopped him on the road and an officer went to talk to him but Carter fired the rifle at the officer then another cop shot Carter dead on the spot.”

We cried on each other shoulders for another minute or two then Marc helped me to stand. It was only then that I realized he had covered me with a blanket. He helped me into the house and placed me on the couch then got me a bottle of water from the fridge. I downed the entire bottle in one go as Marc said; “I’m going to get my mom over here… she’ll know what to do.”

Mrs. Langfordshire was a surgical nurse at Bristol Memorial so she would know what to do about my bullwhip injuries but what about the rest?

* * *

“Okay, Marc, it’s time to say goodbye to Christina, dear. I have to treat her lesions.” She said, tut-tutting her son’s protestations.

Marc finally relented; “Goodbye Chris. I hope you have a good year. Don’t forget to e-mail okay? And, I’m really sorry about all this… if I had of known he was coming…”

He was such a sweetheart; “I know Marc. Thanks. I hope you have a good year at school too and I will e-mail—often.”

As Marc turned to leave Mrs. Langfordshire said; “Take the car and go meet with the boys. You know what to tell them. Pick me up in about an hour.”

Marc nodded and went to the car and Mrs. Langfordshire gingerly removed the blanket to examine my bullwhip lacerations; “Oh my, it really was a bullwhip. Lucky he stood too close and swung too hard. I know these hurt like hell Christina but they will heal soon and there’ll be no marks left. I’ve seen this before.”

I started to ask how she knew about the use of a bullwhip but she shushed me and started to wash my wounds.

“OWWWwwwww…” It was like she was using a wire brush on my back and tummy.

“I know sweetie but I have to wash you before I apply the lotion. But you’re a tough girl and you can take the pain can’t you?”

How could she know? Did she know or is she just trying to help me through this?

She continued; “When’s your dad coming home?”

“Monday afternoon and I’m leaving on Wednesday.”

Mrs. Langfordshire said; “Well, while you’re alone I want you to wear as little clothing as possible. You have welts from your torso right down to your feet and it’s best to let the air get at them. The longer the better to ensure there are no marks when they heal. I’ll leave the lotion but I’ll come back tomorrow and the next two mornings to help you apply it all over. When your dad is around you’ll have to wear long pants and a long sleeve shirt so he won’t notice.”

I was surprised; “You mean you’re not going to tell him?”

“Oh my dear, I think telling him about this would raise an awful lot of questions that would be difficult to answer, don’t you?”

I was devastated. She knew! Dammit… she knew and she was not happy about it. Like a freshly scolded two year old I answered; “Yes Mrs. Langfordshire… and thank you.”

“Yes, well… whatever was going on here with the boys, Christina; whatever was going on is over now. I understand Christina, I really do but they’re too young, so it’s over.” She wasn’t scolding or talking down but she was firm.

“Yes Mrs. Langfordshire… it’s over… it’s over forever… but how did you…” I just had to know.

Mrs. Langfordshire looked straight into my eyes and immediately I knew she really did understand; “Oh, honey, there are signs that a kindred spirit can always spot.”

As she spoke she lifted her sweater and revealed three healed over whipping scars; “This is before I met the man who knew how to use it.”

My jaw dropped. The Langfordshires!!! Bondage play!!! Bull whipping!!! Holy shit! And how could Marc not know? It was clear that he didn’t but the logistics involved in keeping it a secret must be overwhelming!

“Now, dear, the man you’re looking for is out there but you must be very careful while you look. There are many Carters out there, both men and women, who will hurt you severely if given the opportunity—maybe even worse. You have to be patient Christina but when you meet that man, the man that truly loves you, the man that truly cares for you and knows what you need and understands why you need it; that man will be worth the wait.”