Rachel8
Sometimes Brian invited Rachel and me to his house when there wasn't a
party scheduled. I had always suspected that Brian might be a medical doctor,
but I've never had proof. He slipped so easily into his role of "Dr. Brian",
with "Nurse Madeline," and he seemed to have the money and equipment that a
physician might have. And this particular time, he had a "patient."
"Rachel," Brian explained, "I want you to help Madeline. I think you are
particularly well qualified, given the way you were punished as a child. We
men," he said, nodding toward me, "will sit this one out. The woman you are
going to see was referred to me by -- let's say a concerned party -- because she
bears a burden of guilt. She can only be relieved of her guilt by being
punished."
The doorbell rang, and Madeline answered it, dressed in her nurse uniform.
She led the visitor into the room, but the visitor couldn't see us, for Madeline
had already placed a mask, like the Lone Ranger's without eye holes, as a
blindfold over the woman's face. She seemed like a big woman, not particularly
attractive. "Nurse Madeline" helped the woman out of her coat, and I saw that I
was wrong. She was wearing a simple dress, with buttons down the front, and it
looked as if it had been stuffed with balloons. The bodice strained to contain
two big, round breasts; the waist was small, and then the dress bulged out again
to cover a round belly and wide hips. Madeline helped the woman
downstairs,guiding her, as she couldn't see the steps, and led her into Brian's
"torture chamber." The rest of us followed, very quietly. It was brightly
lighted. "You have sinned," stated Madeline. "Yes," the woman replied, very
softly. "Before God can forgive you, truly, you must show your sincere
repentance by penance, pain, the mortification of the flesh." "Yes." "Sister
Rachel will administer your penance. Are you prepared to begin now?" "Yes."
"Take off your clothes." The woman began to unbutton her dress, and I saw two
white globes fighting to escape her plain, white bra. When the dress came off,
I could see she was wearing heavy, elastic, "control" panties. With some
hesitation, the woman, at Madeline's urging, removed her shoes, bra, panties,
and pantyhose, standing there entirely nude, except for her blindfold. Of
course, she did not know that Brian and I were watching. The woman had a long
braid of black hair, and a great bush of black pubic hair. As "the patient"
stood there, Rachel fitted cuffs to her wrists and ankles. Madeline selected
four ropes, of the dozen or so which hung from the ceiling, and snapped the ends
onto rings in the cuffs.
When the ropes were tightened, the woman's arms were pulled apart, almost
like a crucifixion. Then the ankle ropes were tightened, raising her legs,
straightening them, and pulling them apart in a wide vee, as if to tear the
victim up the middle, like breaking the wishbone of a turkey. While the cuffs
were padded, the strain on the joints supporting the woman's weight in that
position must have been painful. Her long braid hung down and wobbled as the
woman, her lips parted in a soundless cry, let her head hang back, then strained
to raise it, then let it fall again, over and over.
"Your sin was of a sexual nature." "Yes." "Then you know what flesh is in
most need of mortification." "Yes." The woman's great tapered thighs, pale
white, were spread far apart, but her cunt was mainly covered with heavy, curly,
pubic hair. Her great, round buttocks bulged downward. Her huge breasts were
partially flattened, as her shoulders were no higher than her hips. Rachel, at
a nod from Madeline, went to stand between the woman's legs. Madeline handed
Rachel a piece of leather, rather like part of a bikini bottom, which had a ring
on one side and some sort of jelly-like adhesive on the other. Rachel applied
it to the penitent's pubic hair. Then Rachel went to the woman's breasts. She
started winding a wide, rubber strap around the woman's right breast, squeezing
it, forcing it upward into a kind of tower, with the central portion, topped by
an erect nipple, bulging out at the top. In contrast, the left breast looked
like a bag of rice, until it, too, was encased in rubber. More rubber straps
wound around the woman's waist. It was already small, but the black rubber,
squeezing her, made it look as if she were some sort of marionette, hanging from
her strings, with a tiny waist holding the two halves together.
Madeline seemed to think she needed more time for the glue to dry. I've
heard of wax treatments to remove body hair, but Madeline had something much
more in mind. "Are you truly sorry for your sins?" "Yes." "Then you look
forward to your punishment." "Yes."
While the glue dried, Rachel tormented the woman by sticking sewing needles
into her soft skin. She placed a dozen or so in each breast, the bare part
which bulged up above the rubber confinement. She placed a dozen or so in each
buttock, and a few in her belly and along the inside of her thighs. The needles
were all strung on a single thread. There was no blood, just the prick of the
needle. The woman did not cry out, just shook her head, almost as if in shame.
At Madeline's direction, Rachel hooked yet another overhead rope to the
ring in the leather which covered the sinner's pubes. The rope was tightened
until most of the woman's weight was being supported by her pubic hair. In a
few seconds, the leather patch began to pull the pubic hair out, beginning at
the top and progressing down toward the vaginal lips. As the woman's weight was
supported by fewer hairs, they pulled out more quickly. "Ahhh!" she cried, as
the leather tore the hair from her cunt and dropped her, leaving her once more
supported by her spread ankles and wrists.
A few hairs remained. Madeline held the woman's head in her hands, as
Rachel pulled out the remaining pubic hairs, one by one, with pliers. Now the
woman's genitals were totally exposed. Her fleshy outer lips, between her
widespread thighs, were slightly parted, and her inner lips, pink and very wet,
were clearly visible. At the top, her clitoris stood erect, like a pencil
eraser. My tool was standing stiff and tall, and I would have liked to spread
those lips with it, but I could only watch.
Together, Madeline and Rachel pulled sharply on the thread, pulling the
dozens of needles out in seconds. "Ahh," escaped the "patient's" lips, as she
twitched. Meanwhile, Brian had brought out a tall stool, with a jack on it, and
a board, covered with wire brushes, on top of the jack. He and Madeline
positioned the stool under the penitent's ass and cranked up the jack until her
weight was once again supported, this time by hundreds of sharp points pressing
into her pale, soft skin. No one point supported enough weight to penetrate the
skin, but each applied a painful local pressure, like the fakir's bed of nails.
As the jack was cranked higher, the woman's back was bowed, so that her convex
tummy, bulging out of the rubber waist binding, and her fleshy, now hairless
mons, were uppermost, exposed to the maximum, while her arms and legs, still
stretched taut, angled away to the side. "Everything so far has simply been
preparation," said Madeline. "Are you ready for your punishment?" "Yes."
Rachel handed Madeline a cat 'o nine tails, not a rubber one, a real
leather one which I knew would cause real pain. Madeline stood between the
woman's spread legs and brought the whip down with clinical precision, right
down on the exposed vaginal lips. The woman cried out and writhed on her "bed
of nails", crying out again as, seconds later, the whip lashed the upstanding
breasts. The two "therapists" took a moment to observe the effect, livid welts
across the tender skin, and then they continued. I couldn't count the blows,
twenty, maybe fifty, while the helpless woman blubbered and cried for mercy.
From her shoulders to her knees, except where the rubber covered her, the woman
was a huge pink bruise, the stripes from each blow overlapping until she was an
almost uniform red. The skin wasn't broken; no blood flowed, but nowhere had
the sinner escaped the stinging lash, which bruised her tender flesh.
Madeline and Rachel removed the rubber bindings, revealing pale stripes
against the pink of the tortured flesh. The breasts looked like targets, with
red bulls eyes, and there was a white "belt" at the waist. Vaginal juices wet
the woman's crotch, and I could only suppose she got off on pain. "Was your sin
very serious?" asked Madeline. "Yes." "Then you should be punished some more, so
that you will never again allow yourself to sin." "Yes," said the tortured
woman. I couldn't believe we wouldn't see her again, again in need of penance.
Brian nodded at a Rachel, and she took one of our "microphones," a shiny
cylinder like a metal prick. Rachel slipped it into the woman's gaping, wet
cunt and connected the wire to a black box. The wire brushes were connected to
the box also, so that an electrical circuit would be completed through the
woman's buttocks and vagina, from the wire brushes to the metal prick. Madeline
picked up the box, turned a knob, and poised her finger over a button. "Say you
are sorry," she instructed."I'm sorry. UNGH!" An electrical current convulsed
her gluteal muscles, so her ass contracted. While I couldn't see, I knew her
vaginal muscles were contracted in a painful spasm, also. "AAAHH!" the woman
screamed. Madeline released the button and passed the box to Rachel. Rachel
said, "Promise you won't do it again." "I promise I won't ... AAAhh!" Rachel
held the button down, for several seconds, it seemed. Rachel and Madeline took
turns, until Brian signaled them to stop. He held a stethoscope to the woman's
chest, and checked her blood pressure. He shook his head at his nurse.
Madeline pulled the shiny electrode from the woman's vagina. It gaped
open, the walls quivering from exhaustion. You know how it is when you exercise
too hard and get a Charley horse? Imagine what it must feel like to have a
Charley horse in your cunt, to have the muscles aching with exhaustion. The "bed
of nails" was lowered, and the leg ropes loosened, so that Rachel and Madeline
could lift the woman and put her on her feet. She stood there uncertainly. Her
now hairless vulva gleamed redly with her juices, and her buttocks were covered
with little red spots, where the wires had burned into her skin. Rachel put her
bra on her, tightly, so that the bruised nipples were pressed, and a white
stripe of breast bulged up out of the cups on each side, stark against the livid
bruises from the lashing. "You have paid for your sins. Go home, and sin
no more," intoned Madeline, "but there is one more thing, lest you take your
punishment too lightly." Standing there, her arms outstretched, the woman was
made to step into her elastic panties. Rachel and Madeline pulled them up, over
the tortured ass cheeks, over the beaten cunt. "Ah-eee!" the penitent screamed.
Inside the panties was a lining of stinging nettles, ordinary looking weeds
which are covered with zillions of tiny hairs. When those tiny hairs touch
skin, the result is a stinging itch which no amount of scratching will
alleviate. The woman, of course, could not scratch, and had to bear the
excruciating burning, itching, of the nettles, pressed against her most tender
skin, pressed into the gash of her sex, so that it became a place of pain, not
pleasure. "You will not remove your panties until you get home, if you are
truly penitent," instructed Madeline. Then she helped the woman put on her
dress and shoes and led her up the stairs, still blindfolded.
"I didn't know you were into inflicting pain, Rachel," I said. "We were
doing her a favor, Dearest Husband." "How can she drive home, in that
condition?" I asked.
"I arranged for transportation, in a van with the curtains drawn. She
doesn't know where she has been," explained Brian. "Would you care for a
drink?"
"I'm driving. Maybe Rachel..." "No, I'm anxious to get home and have
Howard service me. All this has made me horny." "Certainly, My Dear." "And
Howard, will you spank me, first?" she whispered in my ear.
