Dare To Grow

	The following story is purely fictional and wildly improbable,
containing fanciful events involving conduct that may, depending upon the
author's whimsy, involve sex, mostly between men and women (often in groups),
bondage, torture (seldom bloody), consensual or not, and so forth.  It should
not be read by anyone below the legal age required in his or her location, nor
by anyone who would be offended by writing that only stops short of snuff and
ped, which are not themes of interest to the author.

	Reader feedback is gratefully appreciated as many hours are spent
editing for publication, with reader reaction, good or bad, as the only
compensation.  If you, the reader, wonder what happened to fine authors who
publish no more, lack of feedback is probably the answer.

	E-mail Chum at:   cloooless1@yahoo.com  

	(NOTE:  I often respond to E-mail with at least a thanks, but not if the
reader indicates a desire that no response should be made.)

	
	Story Copyright 2002 by Chum

	DARE TO GROW

	by Chum

	Chapter 1

	I checked off my packing list for the fifth time, a new personal record,
but in my usual compulsive way I was determined not to overlook the smallest
detail.  After all, it would be the first time I had traveled outside the
country.  In fact I rarely left Brookline, but for rare business trips
occasioned by my job in the accounting division, and these I undertook with
dread.

	My flight to the Bahamas was leaving in a few hours from Boston and I
wanted to check in at least two hours ahead, so I made a last inspection before
the full length mirror.  Looking back was everything I wanted to change.  Well,
not everything.  I liked my lustrous long black hair, though I always wore it in
a bun in public the way mother had insisted a lady should.  My pale Irish
complexion and bright green eyes were fine, but my brows were too heavy, my nose
a fraction too long, and my mouth had a drawn together look, as though I were
constantly disapproving of the world around  me.

	

	People said I was pretty, though in the case of women such compliments
always included deflating attachments that started out with, "but you really
should do something about," and went on to trash my hair style, makeup, or
something else, then wrapped up with some variation of, "You have so much
potential, it's a shame to waste it.

	Several people at work had made the observation that I looked just like
Lilith, a character from the old TV comedy, "Cheers."  I wasn't sure whether
they meant I looked like the actress (though there was a striking resemblance)
or that my personality resembled the aloof, prissy, and anal retentive traits
written into Lilith's role.  I know this is how I came across to people, but it
wasn't the person I wanted to be. 

	I didn't want to be a virgin at 28.  I didn't want to hide my upturned
breasts, trim waist, and well contoured hips.  But my man hating mother's voice
lived on in my mind, making sure I would keep even my shapely dancers legs
hidden, lest I fall prey to some roaming male beast.

	Chapter 2

	The letter had come a month before, addressed to Jan Shaw, and since the
address was correct, I decided it must be for me.  It was from a company named
"Dare To Grow."

	The letter was signed by Beth Smith, and it described me to a tee, then
went on to solicit business.  It started out by saying, "Someone who knows you,
and cares a great deal about you, has given us your name.  Your admirer
describes you as far more attractive than you allow yourself to be.  You are
also described as a repressed woman who would be willing to go to great lengths
to grow into the outgoing, popular and vivacious woman you wish to be."

	There was more of the same, then the letter turned to vague and, at
first glance, grandiose claims for the success of their treatment program. 
Pioneered by the head of their Bahama based Clinic, Dr. Edward Franks, and
having elements of intense role playing and confrontational therapy, the letter
claimed that virtually every graduate of their intensive two week initial
therapy program was not only transformed into the person they had always wanted
to be, but over ninety percent came back periodically for further therapy, or
just to rest and relax at the companies resort facility adjacent to the
treatment clinic.  The envelope also contained a slick brochure picturing a
beautiful tropical facility populated by attractive smiling people. 

	My first impulse had been to trash the letter.  Ironically, it was the
very attractive, all costs inclusive fee that probably overcame my reservations,
for true to mother's influence, I loved a bargain. 

	There followed several conversations with Beth Smith, who was very warm
and friendly on the phone.  She sent me forms to sign with lots of fine print,
and I concluded that all the language agreeing that treatment decisions could be
made without my permission, etcetera, was standard stuff for inpatient mental
health treatment.

	Chapter 3

	

	A young woman waved to me as I walked into customs.  She was outside the
railing, but was so enthusiastic she shouted, "Jan, Beth!  I'll wait for you at
the exit gate."  She was wearing a snug, lightweight dress that showed off a
slender, athletic body with well defined legs.  She could have been the image of
a tennis star, but for breasts that would make serious athletic activity an
exercise in self flagellation.  Her face was rather long, with close set blue
eyes, a nose just a bit short for the shape of her face, and an expressive mouth
with a full lower lip.  She wore her auburn hair in soft waves upon her
shoulders.  Her bright disposition offset any minor flaws, leaving the
impression of a very pretty  and outgoing young woman.

	Clearing customs, I walked into an enthusiastic embrace.  We were about
the same height, and up close I realized we had very similar five foot four
builds.  With friendly efficiency she had us in a clinic limo in short order,
chatting happily about how wonderful my skin was and how she could see the
beautiful woman inside me ready to emerge into the world.  I thought any minute
she would start singing I am woman hear me roar."

	I reminded myself I was here to shed my cynicism and reserve.  Her perky
enthusiasm was contagious, finally coaxing laughter from me.  We rode and
talked, with her doing most of the talking, and the ride to the clinic passed
quickly.  It was some distance out of town, and as we drove through guarded
gates set in a tall brick wall, she said, "Isn't it beautiful, we're miles from
our nearest neighbors and our patients and guests love the sense of privacy."

	There was nothing about the two story building we entered to suggest a
mental health facility, save the "Dare To Grow Clinic" sign above the entrance. 
It was more like a posh hotel.  Beth checked me in at a reception desk manned by
a young woman, and in less than ten minutes we were in my spacious room.  It had
a king size bed, a couch, two chairs and a writing desk.  She showed me around,
and when we got to the bathroom I got my first surprise.  There were two
commodes, one regular one, and a second one that had an adjustable pipe sticking
up in the middle, and rising several inches above the level of the seat.

	I asked, "What's that for?"

	She said, "You're jumping the gun a little, but I guess we might as well
get started."  She led me back to the bedroom and we sat at opposite ends of the
couch.  "You know already that our clinic employs intensive therapeutic methods. 
These methods might be deemed extreme, even outrageously deviant, by main stream
practitioners.  But can you argue with a ninety percent success rate?  And bear
in mind that we deal with some very repressed patients, like yourself."  I
blushed and squirmed a bit.  "The fact that you overcame your usual reactions,
and find yourself actually here, demonstrates a solid commitment on your part.

	

	"The good news is you will break out and become, in just two weeks, the
kind of free, outgoing and joyfully alive woman you always wanted to be.  The
bad news is that some of what you will be experiencing in the next two weeks
will test your resolve to the core.  Especially at the beginning, there will be
times when you want to quit, when you may even scream and threaten in your
determination to stop your therapy.  Most of our patients make such demands at
one time or another during their stay, such is the nature of any intensely
interactive protocol."

	Beth slid next to me on the couch and reached out to take my hands in
hers.  She looked deeply into my eyes and said, "As your recruiter, I now become
your chief therapist.  For reasons that will become more clear at the
appropriate time, you must confirm your commitment to growth by trusting me with
the title of Mistress.  Until further notice you must call me by no other name."

	I felt myself flush, startled by the intimacy of her hands, eyes, and
voice, and my confusion over this new demand.  As if sensing my emotional
retreat she said, "Don't pull back from me, Jan, it will only make things harder
for you, and will basically change nothing.  Remember the medical releases you
signed at home and downstairs when you checked in.  Especially the check in form
spells out that we may employ at our sole discretion, and against your will if
necessary, any therapeutic method we choose, provided it does not result in
permanent physical harm to you, the patient."

	She could see the confusion and fear in my eyes.  Holding my hands
tight, she added, "I hope it will comfort you to know that I am just as
committed to your therapy as you are.  I will be present with you much of the
time, and I will, quite literally, suffer with your failures and share in your
successes.

	

	Her reassuring smile and the tight grip of her hands finally brought a
smile to my lips.  I said, "You have an infectious enthusiasm Be. . I mean
mistress.  As long as you're with me in this I guess I can give it my best.  But
are you serious that I can't choose to quit?"

	"I'm afraid so Jan, and by the way, most of the time during your
training you will be referred to by other people as 'slave.'  We have found that
using this impersonal title helps condition the patient into the receptive and
compliant state of mind necessary to effect the drastic change you came here to
accomplish.

	She studied my face for a long time, then said in a more brisk tone,
"It's two PM.  Your first training session in scheduled for six o'clock.  You
will notice the use of the word 'training' instead of 'therapy.'   At the clinic
we have settled on 'training' as a more useful description, but don't worry, we
start you out gently.  Remember you are here to transform yourself, both
physically and mentally.  So rule number one, no granny bras, panties or panty
hose.  You will find suitable garments in the closet and dresser over there. 
You will wear only what you are told to wear at all times.  Before your
afternoon, and again before evening session, you are required to bathe, douche,
and take a high colon cleansing.  I noticed you giving our special bidet a look,
well do your best this evening before your bath, and you will receive more
complete training in hygiene in the morning.

	

	"I will come for you at six.  Be bathed and dressed in whatever you
brought in the way of dresses that will look good with black.  For undergarment
you will wear a black garter belt, black stockings and heels.  Also put on a
black bra and panties.  I know a hundred questions are buzzing in your head, but
our training procedures prevent me from answering them at this time.  Trust is
one of the foundations of the 'dare to grow' method, so I'll see you at six."

	Chapter 4

	Acute anxiety made the next four hours pass both quickly and slowly.  My
usually limited imagination roamed over scenarios from the sensible to the
absurd.  The abiding images involved sex.  I went through the process of getting
ready, blushing frequently, the session on the bidet being especially
embarrassing.  After clumsily donning the required undergarments, I finished
preparing by putting on a conservative cream colored dress.  I had purchased the
dress just for this trip, so it was sleeveless, showed some upper chest, and was
just below the knee in length.

	Beth arrived promptly at six.  She wore a spaghetti strap low cut red
cocktail dress with matched red mesh stockings and high heels.  Her face was
carefully made up, and with her lovely hair she had gone from pretty to
beautiful.  She looked me over, then asked with a teasing smile, "Do you wear
your hair in a bun to bed?"

	We walked through a maze of hallways.  The few people we encounter
nodded or smiled, a few greeting Beth by name.  With one last turn we stopped at
a locked door.  Beth unlocked the door and smiled at me, saying, "I have a treat
for you."

	The room was bigger than mine, and had large mirrors on three wall.  It
was well lit, and the instant we entered I got one of the big shocks of my
cloistered life.  There was a man kneeling atop a pedestal, wearing only a
blindfold and a black leather thong holding his genitals.

	His back was arched and his knees spread far apart, held fast by a
device made of wood.  It had two large boards with rounded notches, and with the
top piece fastened to the bottom, his lower legs were imprisoned between them. 
His arms were down with elbows pulled back and forearms crossed behind his back. 
The rope securing his forearms together was tied to a ring on the bottom board. 
It was cinched down so tight that his wiry body arched like a yoga master to
accommodate the position of his arms and legs.

	His position thrust his leather covered genitals up from his stretching
hips and thighs, and I had never seen such an obscene sight.  I had both the
urge to pee and to rub my sex, as well as a strong impulse to vomit and run from
the room.

	He cocked his head at the sound, but remained silent.  After giving me a
chance to catch my breath, Beth spoke.  "How is my little slave boy, are you
comfortable?"

	Turning his head in our direction he responded, "I am as comfortable as
my mistress wishes me to be."

	

	Beth watched my expression as she said, "Jerry is my slave.  You may
call him by either name, Jerry or slave, for tonight you are also his mistress." 
Turning back to the bound young man, she said, "Introduce yourself to Mistress
Jan, slave boy."

	Sounding a little like a talking puppy, he said, "I am slave Jerry.  I
belong to Mistress Beth, and tonight you are also my mistress.  I beg you to use
me in any way that will amuse you and give you pleasure."

	Beth took my arm and half dragged me forward, my face blushing and my
body reluctant to get any closer.  I stifled the urge to turn my head away as
Beth reached out and pulled the black leather thong from his loins, dropping it
on the floor.  I almost fainted at the sight of his big penis and scrotum.  This
was the first time I had ever been close to male sex organs in the flesh.

	My embarrassment escalated steadily as Beth reached out her right hand
and softly cupped his hanging testicles.  He moaned softly as her fingers worked
gently to move the egg shapes inside the wrinkled bag of skin.  I watched as his
penis began to thicken and rise, growing longer as it grew straight. 

	The venom of hate and distrust gleaned from my mother's lips swirled in
me.  I wanted to flee, then I wanted to lash out at these organs the male
oppressors took such pride in.  I wanted to take revenge on the rapist who
traumatized my mother, leaving me in her womb and hatred for men in her heart.

	Did I also want to touch them, to feel the growing shaft of flesh within
me?  If not, why was I feeling the stirring in my sex, the wetness staining my
panties?  Anxiety born of confusion made me grow weak in the knees.

	It was hard to grasp that this delightful woman beside me was touching
his organs with no trace of repugnance.  Since he was her 'slave,' perhaps her
dominance explained it.  She could control and dominate, even hurt him if she
chose.  This last thought sent a jolt of electricity through my groin, bringing
images from the dark recesses of my secret fantasy life.  Not even my therapist
knew that I had persistent shameful fantasies which involved tormenting naked
men, or being tormented by them.

	Here was a scene beyond the wildest of my fantasies, a living breathing
man, his sex organs thrust from his pelvis over the edge of the pedestal just
inches away, and helpless to resist anything we desired.  Great pleasure or
excruciating pain, the power to choose was in the hands of women.

	Beth released his scrotum and stepped up to take off his blindfold. 
Jerry blinked at the light, then craned his head up to look at us.  I blushed
yet again, feeling guilty for my thoughts.  Beth moved back beside me and put
her arm around my shoulder.  We both looked at the halfway erect organ as she
said, "My little slave boy has a nice cock, don't you think?"  Without waiting
for a reply she went on, "By the way, do not refer to his prick as a weenie,
thing, or any other modest term from your childhood.  From now on a penis is
called cock, prick, dick, meat pole or other term employed by adults.  The same
idea applies to his balls and asshole.  Ditto for us.  We have pussies, cunts,
snatches, gashes, clits, tits, . . .you get the idea.

	

	"Our schedule allow us another hour and a half with slave boy here.  We
can do all sorts of delicious things in that much time.  If he behaves we might
let the little worm have an orgasm before we are done with him, but then maybe
not.  It helps torment him to look at naked women he can't touch, so I think
I'll get out of these clothes.  You would like that wouldn't you Jerry?"

	"Oh, yes mistress, it will help me get ready for your pleasure if you
let me see your beauty."

	Beth stepped back a few paces and I followed.  With slow and sensuous
movements she reached behind her back, unzipped her dress, then pulled the thin
straps off her shoulders and slid the dress to the floor.  She stepped away from
it, now in strapless bra, a skimpy thong, thigh high stocking that needed no
support, and high heels.  Reaching back again she unsnapped her bra, letting it
slip off her pink nippled breasts.  Her nipples were thick and long, seeming too
large for the size of her aureole, which were about two inches across and puffed
out slightly from the creamy surface of melon shaped mounds the size of ripe
grapefruit.

	I was surprised when she slowly drew the thong down her legs to see that
her pussy was devoid of hair, with just a light thatch of auburn curls in a
small pelt above her pubic bone.

	When she stepped out of the thong she stretched like a cat, raising her
arms slowly over her head as she smiled seductively.  "Feel free to join me,"
she said to me.  Then to Jerry she added, "You would like that wouldn't you
slave boy?"

	"Oh, yes mistress.  Mistress Jan, please undress for me."

	Now confronted with two naked bodies and the odor of arousal in the air,
I became so flustered I simply froze.  Beth merely shrugged and turned back to
Jerry, stepping in front of him.

	She said, "Naughty slave boy, I didn't give you permission to make a
request of  Mistress Jan.  Now you have upset her.  You see, Mistress Jan has a
problem with worms like you.  She grew up angry and distrustful of people with
cocks and balls, and justifiably so.  Now what do you think we should do about
that?"

	Jerry looked down as far as his contorted position would allow, and
replied, "I have misbehaved, mistress.  I am truly sorry for offending each of
you, and I deserve to be severely punished.  Please join in my punishment,
Mistress Jan.  I offer my body for your pleasure to atone for the wrongs my sex
has done." There was a spreading wetness in my groin as I imagined acting out on
his invitation, but it was all just too overwhelming for me. 

	Beth reached out and grasped the now stiff cock in her hand and began
slowly jacking him off, reaching out with her other hand to massage his balls. 
Jerry began to whimper softly, and Beth asked him how long it had been since he
had been permitted an orgasm.  Three days was the answer.  She said, "Then we
want to be very careful, don't we slave?  It would be unfortunate if you came
without permission, so you will tell me when you are getting close, won't you."

	

	"Yes, mistress," he responded.  My stomach turned over as Beth went down
on one knee and began licking the head and shaft of his prick, starting by
licking off the fluid than had been leaking from the slit at the end.  She was
soon taking most of it into her mouth, moving her head up and down with a
rhythmic motion.  His hips started thrusting the short distance allowed by his
already out thrust posture, and after a few breathless moans he said, "I am
about to come, mistress.  Please let me come."

	She stood up abruptly and moved behind the platform, angrily saying,
"Presumptuous worm, you will regret asking me to give you pleasure before it
pleases me."  Beth returned with what looked like a leather shoelace, and a thin
stick resembling the baton used by music conductors.  Jerry's prick stood ramrod
stiff as his eyes follow the objects in Beth's hands, and my urge to get my hand
on my sex was almost overpowering.

	Beth motioned to me, holding the baton out in invitation.  I still
couldn't get my body to respond, so she shrugged and put it down on the edge of
the pedestal.  The leather cord had a loop in one end, and she placed this just
below the flair of his cock head, cinching it tight at the top of his sensitive
glands.  He stiffened when she yanked on the loose end, but made no sound.  Beth
held the end of the cord in her left hand as she reached up and grabbed Jerry by
the hair, roughly pulling his head as far forward as it would go.  Lifting the
cord end to his head, she said, "Hold this in your teeth, slave, and don't so
much as let it slip till you have received ten strokes from me and ten from
Mistress Jan."

	She pulled up on the cord until his penis stretched tight against his
belly, then offered the loose end to his mouth.  He bit down on the cord,
straining to hold his head bent down when she let go of his hair.  Any
relaxation of his neck muscles would only cause more stretching and pain in his
prick.  Beth picked up the baton, and with slow deliberation she stepped to the
side, flexing the baton between her hands.  She swished it through the air a few
times, then took aim by holding the rod near the back of his cock, finally
swinging her arm back and bringing the rod against the middle of his sensate
shaft.

	Jerry's body jerked, but he held the cord tight in his clenched jaws,
able to make only a long squealing noise.  My pussy was gushing by this time. 
My body was immobile, but my cunt had a mind of its own.

	Her blows rained up and down the tender underside of his cock.  When the
tenth had fallen she turned to me and again offered the whip.  I wanted to take
it and lash it against the swollen meat shaft as hard as I could, but I just
couldn't work up the courage.

	Beth was beginning to look concerned with this latest refusal on my
part, and for the first time tried persuasion, "You know this is turning you on,
and I know you would like to take out some pent up anger on anything wearing a
cock.  You're here to break out of your do nothing rut, and you'll never get a
better chance.  Besides, slave boy here likes it."

	

	I could not even find the nerve to reply, causing Beth to shake her head
in frustration.  She undid the knot around his cock, and when she turned it
loose it bobbed before him, stiffer than ever.  Opening the noose, Beth passed
it around the bottom of his ball sack, drawing it up tight against his groin. 
Again she cinched it tight, making his scrotum bulge into the shape of an orange
when she tugged the loop down.  The loop could slide no further, as his
testicles formed a barrier where they lodged in the bottom of his skin bag.

	She held the end out to me, this time determined to out wait my reserve. 
I finally edged forward enough to take the cord in my hand, as she said, "Since
you can't seem to overcome your inhibitions, I'm going to give you a simple job. 
I want to give slave boy a mind blower of an orgasm after he gives a good one to
me.  When I'm finished with his mouth, I will give him a real blow job.  Your
task is to pull the cord whenever he starts moaning or thrusting his hips.  That
will stop his orgasm while I continue sucking without interruption.  When he's
really ready to pop, I'll give you a hand signal and you stop pulling, but
remember, use that ball stretcher till I signal.  I suggest you do some easy
practice while I get tongue fucked."

	Beth mounted the pedestal and backed up over his face, spreading her
legs wide and squatting down.  Her buttocks were spread before me, showing me
the crinkled bud of her anus.  I couldn't make the mental adjustment required to
participate in the events before me.  I just stood with the cord dangling from
my fingers as I watched her riding his face, grinding her crotch against his
mouth and darting tongue.  She started thrashing about, losing her tempo as
little yelps came from her mouth.  I had never seen a woman orgasm before, and
it left me weak in the knees, wishing I could jump up there for some of the same
treatment.

	She stood up and stretched, leaving Jerry's face covered with her
secretions.  His hard on was still in place as she resumed licking, stroking and
sucking.  After all he had been through, it was with amazement that I watched
him go into a convulsive climax before I could begin to work up enough resolve
to pull on the cord.

	Chapter 5

	Beth turned toward me, licking his cum from the corners of her mouth.  I
saw sadness, concern, and anger vie for attention on her face.  She finally gave
me a melancholy smile and said, softly, "Well, Slave Jan, it looks like you will
be earning the name for awhile.  So will I.."

	The door opened behind me.  Beth's eyes registered a resigned
recognition as I turned around.  Three people approached, their appearance
renewing my sense of unreality.  I couldn't decide which to take in first.  My
eyes finally settled on the handsome Cary Grantish looking man in the middle. 
Wearing gray slacks and a white business shirt, he stood over six feet and
appeared in good, trim physical shape for being at least in his late forties. 
He had gray at the temples of his combed back dark hair, and actually did
resemble the movie star in looks.

	On either side of him were two black people.  One was a good looking
man, huge in stature.  The second was a pretty woman, also tall and solidly
built, but with distinctively feminine lines.  Both were dressed in maroon jump
suits with little insignia above the left breast.

	

	They stopped near me and the distinguished gentleman spoke, "I am Doctor
Franks.  I, along with other members of your training team, have been observing
and evaluating your performance."  He nodded his head toward the large wall
mirror to his left.  "Let me start by assuring you that we are not here to blame
you in any way.  You have not been found guilty.  You simply are who you are, a
very complex and challenging clinical case.  Challenging in part due to the
difficulty in assessing a patient who spent the entire evaluation session in a
state of inaction.

	"As a matter of sound personnel policy 'blame' is assessed for your
inaction, and it is attributed to your recruiter, now trainer, Beth Smith.  To
achieve and maintain the highest level of staff performance, strict disciplinary
measure are imposed, for, after all, it was her responsibility as your initial
point of contact with us, to assure you were prepared to participate in your
first session."

	He nodded toward the black man, who went to Beth and put a pair of hand
cuffs on her wrists behind her back, leaving her standing in stockings and heels
with her head bowed.  He continued, while I glanced back and forth in confusion
between him and Beth, "Because of the depth of your aversion to men, and other
difficult to treat pathology, it will be necessary to undertake our most
rigorous level of training, Level 10.  Cases such as yours require the
achievement of a complete breakdown of resistance."

	I knew with a sinking feeling that this wasn't going well, and for the
first time since I walked into the room I found my voice, "I don't want to be
here any longer.  You can keep the money, but I want to go home."

	He gave me such a sympathetic smile that I felt a surge of hope, then he
said, "I'm very sorry, but if we were to let just one patient opt to stop
training, the integrity, indeed the very foundation principles of 'dare to grow'
would be compromised.  It is simply out of the question, and you will neither
ask, nor demand any such special treatment during the balance of your stay."

	Speaking as much to the others as to me, he said, "Since this slave
failed to disrobe, we will begin by reducing her to total genital nudity in the
main salon.  Ms. Smith shall be present as well for the start of her discipline,
which shall be one hundred with a number two cat, targeted for full body
coverage, with the exception of genitals."

	Chapter 6

	The black man and woman took Beth and me in tow.  They were kind enough
to let us go to the bathroom when we came upon one.  I tried, during that brief
stop, to engage Beth in conversation, but her response was to tell me I must not
speak unless directed to do so.

	We finally arrived at a set of double doors.  Entering, I found what at
first glance appeared to be a nice cocktail lounge with a stage for
entertainment.  It took only moments to see the differences, starting with the
lounges where chairs would normally be.  It was after eight PM by then, and the
place was about half full, perhaps twenty five or thirty men and women.

	

	The place was circular, with a bar on the outer ring, then two steps
down to the lounge level, then another two steps down to the stage level.  We
were ushered down an isle toward the twenty foot wide stage, with heads turning
to follow our progress.  I heard a woman's voice say, "This is what's fun, you
never know when you might get to see some unscheduled entertainment."

	As we neared the stage I saw a metal and leather gynecological table, or
at least it resembled one.  A closer look disclosed differences, including a
number of straps.  Instead of fixed stirrups, it had mechanical legs with
several straps attached.

	Just as we were reaching the stage I heard the door behind us burst open
and a chattering of voices.  I looked back to see two young girls, mirror images
of each other, bounding into the room like school children going to recess. 
They wore their blonde hair in pigtails, and aside from skimpy bikini panties,
they were nude.  Their baseball size breasts had the hardness of recent
appearance, standing high and barely quivering as they pranced into room,
giggling and nudging each other when they caught sight of us. 

	We were taken onto the stage and the black woman held my arm as her
companion moved Beth under a pair of cuffs dangling on a chain from above.  He
fastened her wrists and the chain began retracting upward.  Her arms were drawn
above her head, slowly stretching her lovely body, lifting and elongating her
breasts into an exotic display.  She groaned as all her weight shifted to her
bound wrists.  When she cleared the stage floor the chain stopped, leaving her
trim figure swaying gently.

	Because of the bright stage lighting I couldn't see into the audience
very well, but could tell by brief glimpses and happy noises that the young
twins were cavorting among the audience members.

	The black couple turned their attention to me and the audience noises
died down.  Without warning, both of them reached to the top of my new summer
dress, and in moments it lay in torn pieces around my feet.  Catcalls greeted
their violence, and I stood in stunned silence, too shocked to react.  My bra
went next, this time unfastened and roughly pulled away, leaving my firm tits
standing out from my chest with no hint of sag.  My skimpy panties suffered the
same fate as my dress, tearing easily from my hips to expose my furry cleft.  My
forced nudity was enough to make me light headed, but I had a more secret source
of humiliation, and the fear of its discover pushed me over the edge into
darkness.

	I became aware of light first.  Then came a trapped sensation, coupled
with the sense that something was terribly wrong with my body.  My eyes flew
open, gazing at my dollar size brown aureole and thimble size nipples.  I
realized that my head was lower than my body, and I was laying on the strange
table, strapped by my waist, thighs and ankles.  Even my arms were strapped at
my sides.  What horrified me most was the position of my legs.  Held fast to
mechanical arms, they spread so wide it felt like the tendons in my inner thighs
were trying to tear through the skin.  Thankfully my knees were bent, saving me
from torn hamstring muscles, since they could never withstand so radical a
spread if my legs were straight.

	

	"Oh, good, she's awake!" I heard a childish voice exclaim.  Turning my
head, the two little pig tailed blondes stood clutching each other's arms as
they looked at me.  Looking past them, and more toward the foot of my table, I
saw Beth still swaying above the floor, her eyes looking at me when the slow
twisting of the chain brought her around toward me.  The black woman stood
beyond Beth, holding a long handled whip with numerous dangling tails in her
hand.

	Once all this registered, my stomach knotted with the certainty that my
secret would be discovered the moment any of them looked closely, for I could
feel the cool air against my widely spread inner tissues.

	The girls came beside me, smiling and giggling once more.  One said,
"Doesn't she have nice titties?"  The other agreed as both reached out and
started exploring my tits, one to each of them.  They were rough, squeezing and
kneading, then pinching and twisting my nipples.  Like demented nymphs, their
giggles suggested light hearted play, when they were actually inflicting
deliberate pain.  If I had any doubts, they were put to rest when they went on
to slap my tits, laughing at the way they compressed, then rebounded to wobble
back and forth before coming to rest.

	The black man interrupted their play, saying, "Come, girls, you have a
long job ahead, and you are to be finished before the one hundred strokes are
completed."

	With shrugs and pouting expression they abandoned my abused tits,
leaving the nipples hard and pointed.  I looked over to see the black couple
stripping Beth of her heels and stockings, while the twins ducked under my legs
and turned their attention to my crotch.  I cringed, waiting for their
discovery, assuming laughter and ridicule would soon follow.  I looked at the
forceps in their hands with trepidation, but was spared their attention by the
loud "splat" of nine strands of leather against naked flesh.  Like children,
they couldn't resist turning to watch after the first blow landed against the
backs of Beth's thighs.

	They didn't strike the second blow until her legs stopped writhing, and
after the second lash popped against her naked buttocks, the twins turned back
to me.  As they bent forward to inspect my pussy, I cringed as both pair of eyes
grew wide.  One of them exclaimed, "Oh, wow, look at her big clitty!  She must
be really hot."  It was actually in its normal state, but it lessened my
embarrassment for them to think so. 

	Clear into my teens my mother had insisted on frequent inspections of my
genitals to, as she put it, "Make sure you stay clean and pure."  Her
inspections had included running her finger in and out of my hole to make sure I
was intact, and she would often make comments about the whorish size of my
clitoris, telling me how abnormally big it was, and warning me to keep my hands
away from it, lest I become a sex fiend, or worse.

	

	Their fingers were the first to touch my clitoris, and they explored it
thoroughly, rubbing, stroking, and pinching.  I couldn't stop the little traitor
from responding.  In moments I was gasping and struggling to keep my hips still
as the knob grew thicker and emerged like a baby's finger from its abnormally
generous hood.  "Oh merciful heavens," I thought, "I'm going out of control. 
Stop it, just put your mind somewhere else."

	My chest was heaving with arousal beyond any I had ever experienced, and
I felt relieved when the black man shouted, "Right now, girls!"  They moved
their fingers away, and the fear of losing control slowly diminished.

	The first pair of forceps clamped down on a few stands of hair above my
pubic mound, and I felt the shiny jaws pull slowly upward.  The pain grew as
skin tried to follow hair, and when it could stretch no farther the follicles
surrendered.  "Oooww," I cried, a burning pain stabbing at the patch of bare
skin.

	The two happy little sadists went at their task, the goal apparently to
make the loss of each hair as painful as possible, and the lower they went down
my groin, the more sensitive the skin.  This method allowed no opportunity for
adjusting to the pain, because the pain kept getting worse as they moved to the
mons, labia, and finally to the super sensitive skin below my vagina.  I began
to lose my voice by the time the last hair was gone.  When the tears cleared
enough to see, I looked down in horror at my baby bare pussy crease, mortified
at the way my clit poked out from the red, swollen lips.  For no understandable
reason it was even more erect than it had been when they were touching it, and
with no hair left around it, the sight was obscene.

	Beth was hanging limp, her chin resting above the cleft of her breasts,
inches above where the last kiss of the whip struck.  Most of her skin was now a
vivid red, as though she had overstayed a day at the beach.  She was dripping
sweat, and even her bare genitals and inner thighs were wet.

	Chapter 7

	Beth and I were released and the stage lights went down.  Blessedly,
white terrycloth robes were given to us before we were escorted out of the room. 
We were both exhausted and didn't talk as they led us back to my room.  To my
surprise, Beth was locked in the room with me.  We both collapsed on the couch,
still not talking.  The hangover of emotion was worse for me than the lingering
sting and soreness of my skin.

	She finally looked over at me and gave me a weak smile, saying, "I told
you we were in this together.  I'm sorry I let you down."  As she said this she
casually opened her robe, leaned back and fanned the open flaps to cool her
inflamed breasts, tummy and thighs. 

	I looked at the abused skin, realizing she had gone through much more
than I, and I said, "No, I'm the one who needs to apologize.  I promised you I'd
give it my best shot, then all I did was stand there like an idiot."  Forgetting
for the moment my outrage at being a prisoner in this house of horrors, I added,
"I just wish there was some way to make it up to you."

	"Do you mean it?"

	

	"Yes, I'm serious, I feel just terrible."

	"Well," she said with a smile, "there is a lotion that works like magic
to take away the sting and redness after a whipping.  After we shower, would you
put some on me."

	I felt a strange flutter in my tummy, and another kind of flutter
further down, but I felt committed.  I nodded and we went to shower.  I was
uncomfortable at the idea, but didn't want to act like the prude I was when Beth
suggested we save time by showering together.  Her close proximity gave me goose
bumps, and the inner tremors increased when she suggested we soap each other's
backs.  Nothing overtly sexual happened, however, so I felt less intimidated
when we dried each other's back sides.

	She laid down on her stomach in the middle of the bed after handing me
the bottle of lotion.  I scrunched up next to her and began gently rubbing the
cool white lotion on the backs of her legs, feeling a return of the fluttering
sensations.  I skipped her butt, though it had taken the most punishment, and
went to the middle of her back to the top of the redness.  She gave off steady
moans of pleasure, and when I worked down to the small of her back she made her
desire known by wiggling her tight butt cheeks suggestively.

	By this time the stirring inside me carried my hands to the firm swell
of her buttocks.  I couldn't deny to myself that rubbing this intimate flesh was
making me feel a strong arousal.

	I almost didn't want her to turn over, but when she did, the sight of
her abused breasts, flat stomach, and nearly hairless V, jolted my inner
excitement to another level.  Again I started with her thighs.  She kept her
legs close together, so I was able to rub around and past her pubic area without
too much discomfort.  When I got to the bottom of her rib cage I couldn't keep
from glancing again and again at her tits.  I wanted desperately to touch them,
and at the same time I was cringing inwardly at the idea of putting my hands on
so intimate a part of another woman's anatomy.  After all, I avoided touching my
own unless there were some sterile reason to justify it.

	But this was another world, one so radically foreign to my life, that I
gulped down my butterflies and clumsily splashed a palm full of lotion onto her
right breast.  I began rubbing, trying to avoid the aureole and pointing nipple
in my determination to keep my touch businesslike.  Beth took the reins and
grabbed my wrist, pulling my lotion covered hand squarely onto her nipple.

	The feel of her nipple growing stiff under my palm brought a gasp to my
parted lips, and in moments my businesslike touch ended, and my sexual life
began.

	Chapter 8

	

	"I must be a lesbian."  This though ran over and over through my head. 
At that moment I didn't really care.  All I knew was my desire to touch and
explore.  I felt like a flower bulb, long buried in winter ground, finally
bursting through the earth to explore the freedom of air, and eager to grow and
blossom.

	For the first time in my life passion was overcoming guilt, safety
overcoming danger.  In my sudden freedom I played and teased, using my fingers
to squeeze and gently twist her sore nipple, making her moan, one moment with
discomfort, the next with pleasure.  I had become, in an instant of arousal, a
new person. (Oh, if it were only that simple, I was to discover.)

	I went to the other tit as Beth moved sensuously beneath my hands.  When
neither of us could stand much more she pushed me onto my back and looked down
at me with passion in her eyes.  I shivered with anticipation, wanting her to
kiss me and take me.  Instead, she took the lotion.  Reaching down with her
hand, she urged my legs apart.  I spread for her, eager to please.  She started
at the top of my pubic bone, rubbing the lotion into my inflamed and tender
skin.  Working slowly, with light movements of her palm and fingers, she teased
and stroked.

	I was ready to explode with some nameless ecstacy before she even
touched the top of my crease.  Not a word had been spoken, but now I could no
longer hold back, "I want you. . . Yes, yes, touch me there. . . Teach me what
to do. .. Uh, god, yes, that feels so good."

	Her fingers explored me.  I widened my legs, straining my buttocks and
pelvic muscles to raise my sex to her hand.  As my arousal became almost
unbearable I cried out in wordless passion.  Her fingers settled on my engorged
clit.  I stiffened, but she whispered, "It is magnificent."  Those were her only
words, but they transformed a lifetime of shame, leaving me with a proud little
organ eager to bring me pleasure.

	In the space of a few moments I was going off like a sky rocket, with
vibrating sensations exploding outward from my clitoris, through my groin, then
on to my extremities in a wave of pleasure so intense I started undulating like
a fish out of water. "Oh, YES," I shouted, followed by unintelligible noises.

	When I lay in a sheen of perspiration, my chest heaving to catch my
breath, she looked down at me with a wry smile and said, "What in the world have
we uncovered here?  And all this with only one hand."  She held up her hand, wet
with my juices, and we laughed till our eyes met again.  Our smiles slowly faded
as her mouth came to mine.

	Chapter 9

	What a revelation it had been, and a learning experience as well.  Warm,
sexy thoughts ran through my mind as I opened my eyes in the morning to see Beth
propped on an elbow beside me, looking at me pensively.

	

	She reached out and touched my cheek with her hand, saying, "Well,
little slave girl, now I have some hope that I might not spend the next two
weeks hanging from the ceiling.  The way the program works, however, we are
committed for a few days to a protocol that will be rough on both of us.  Don't
be too worried.  From what you showed me last night, I think you'll rise to the
occasion, and in more ways than one."  Only later did I realize she had been
making a pun.

	I started to speak, but then remembered the rule about talking without
permission.  Pleasing Beth was suddenly the most important thing in my life, and
when I had a goal in life I strove for perfection.  Sensing my wish to talk, she
said, "Unless I instruct you otherwise, you have my permission to speak freely,
but only when we are alone."

	"Do you think I'm a lesbian?  Last night was my first sexual experience,
and it's hard for me to imagine enjoying it so much otherwise.  On top of that,
I've never found a man I could trust."

	She smiled and replied, "I think you were so long overdue for sex you're
like the swan whose mother was away from the nest when she hatched.  When a duck
wander by with a brood of chicks the little swan happily got in line, thinking
she had found mom.  Don't jump to conclusions.  In fact, we won't let you jump
to conclusions."

	"If I may ask, mistress, are you one?"

	Chuckling, she said, "I'm an equal opportunity kind of gal.  I say why
limit the range of one's opportunities for pleasure.  I go both ways sex wise,
and in other ways as well.  I personally hope you find the same capacity, and if
last night was your first time, I think you certainly have the potential.  The
big hurdle will be getting over your anger and distrust of men."

	"You saw how I froze with Jerry.  I can't even cope with a man who
exists to please women and is tied down to boot."  I gave her a forlorn look.

	"When the treatment team decides a trainer has failed, as in our case,
the trainer no longer participates in training decisions on that case.  I no
longer know what is planned for you, or for me for that matter.  In a sense I
have been sent to school for further training, no longer in charge, but more
like a classroom aid who observes, and in our case, acts as a surrogate."

	"What do you mean, surrogate?"

	"It used to be called a 'whipping boy' in the old days.  I probably
shouldn't be going into this, but since I'm out of the main treatment loop I'm
going to wing it.  I got whipped last night for two reasons.  First, as
punishment for failing at my job assignment, which was to prep you sufficiently
to participate in the evaluation session.  Second, as a way of putting pressure
on you to overcome your inhibitions and get with the program."

	My cynical distrust overwhelmed me in a heartbeat, "So that''s what last
night was about.  You seduced me so I would get emotionally involved, and that
way I would do any disgusting thing they want in order to save you from more
punishment."

	

	She tried to placate me as we talked back and forth, but I was back in
familiar territory, assuming that other people would use me only for their own
selfish ends if I didn't keep them at arms length. I felt betrayed and used, and
I rolled away from her to hide the tears that were suddenly in my eyes.

	She reached out to put a hand on my hip, but I brushed it away.  "I
guess I've blown it again," she whispered, and these were the last words between
us for some time, other than curt orders delivered by a mistress to a slave.

	Chapter 10

	Beth made a phone call, put on her robe, and when someone opened the
door she left.  I spent a tearful day going over and over everything that had
happened, realizing finally that my 'transformation' into a blossoming flower
was not quite the reality it had seemed in the middle of my first orgasm. 

	Dr. Franks stepped into my room late in the afternoon, along with a
woman wearing one of the 'guard' uniforms.  He was more stiff in manner and
seemed distracted.  He took a chair and with no preliminaries asked, "Were you
directed to wear that robe?"  I shook my head no, and he said, "Then take it off
and assume the proper position for a slave."

	I guess some progress had been made, because I followed his order and
dropped the robe on the bed, feeling less embarrassment at my nudity.  I was at
a loss as to what was meant by the 'proper position,' and since I wasn't
permitted to speak, I just stood with my arms at my sides.

	He shook his head, mumbling something with Beth's name in it, then said,
"On your knees, spread them wide and clasp your hands behind your head, elbows
back."  Now I did blush again, and this time I ignored the rules.

	I let my temper flair, "I won''t try to reason with a bunch of perverts,
but I'll be damned if you can make me cooperate in my own debasement.  You can
all go to hell!"

	He stood without a visible reaction on his features, then said, "Be
ready at six o'clock.  Wear nothing but the robe, a pair of socks and sneakers." 
As he left he said to his attendant, "Round up the treatment team; meeting in my
office at five."

	Knowing I had done a stupid thing, I used the bidet to clean myself out,
bathed and dressed as required.  At six I was taken.  The route seemed familiar
and in due course we arrived at the room with the stage.  This time there was a
curtain concealing the stage floor, and as we entered there were only a handful
of people present.  A few curious glances were the only reaction I received, and
in moments we passed through the curtain.

	

	Toward one side two posts stood about six feet apart, adorned with cuffs
and ropes high and low on each post.  Slightly off center toward the other side
was an odd looking table with padding on top.  I shrank against the two huge
blacks, but they propelled me to the posts.  Stripping off the robe, they
overcame my resistance and soon had the fleece lined cuffs secured to my wrists
and over the folded down white socks on my ankles.  I felt more naked wearing
white sneakers and socks than I would have stark naked.

	I was acutely conscious of my bald pussy as they set about tightening
the ropes.  With their enormous strength they soon had me suspended a foot off
the floor with my arms and legs pulled wide.  They left me hanging like a living
X, and after they left me alone on the stage, seconds seemed like hours as the
pain in my wrists, arms and shoulder grew almost unbearable.

	The curtain finally rose to excited voices in the audience, many more
than were there when I arrived.  I was groaning steadily, panting to catch
enough air in my lungs, and writhing in my bonds in a futile search for a way to
ease my suffering.

	Finally, Beth came on stage, seemingly in the custody of two giant,
muscular black men and a stunning Amazon of a black woman.  Beth wore a white
garter belt, matching nylons and strapped, open toe heels.  The men were naked
but for cream colored mid calf motorcycle boots and skimpy tan thongs.  Their
obviously large genitals would have appeared less obscene naked.  The woman wore
only a sort of tan leather loin cloth, leaving her small breasts bare.  Looking
like a contestant in a woman's body building contest, she carried a vicious
looking whip about five feet long.

	The spotlights suddenly bathed my body as a booming announcer's voice
filled the room, "Ladies and gentlemen, our early show features a new slave in
training, Jan, and her wayward trainer, Beth.  Beth has been dismissed as Jan's
trainer due to poor intake and indoctrination.  Of more serious note, she has
compromised the case by making love to the slave without the advice of the
treatment team; after she had been removed from the team.  Her unprofessional
relationship has put her continued employment as a recruiter/trainer in
question.  After further review and evaluation a decision will be made, and her
performance tonight will be given weight in the decision.

	"Slave Jan is, at twenty eight, still a virgin.  Beth has been assigned
the task of persuading her to beg to be fucked.  If successful, our two stalwart
attendants will be given the task of deflowering both her cunt and her asshole. 
If Beth is unsuccessful, she shall be available for punishment during the
remainder of slave Jan's stay with us, then expelled from her position with Dare
to Grow.  Let these proceedings commence."

	I couldn't take my eyes off the whip, which was now in Beth's hand.  My
heart was pounding and my stomach doing flip flops as she approached me.  Her
eyes welled with tears, looking into mine.  I felt the pain in them and was
shaken.   Did she really care for me?  Almost reverently she knelt in front of
me and stretched her mouth to my crease, going immediately to my protruding
clitoris.

	

	In moments I was jerking against the ropes, passionately aroused,
despite the audience and the knowledge of my impending beating.  She had learned
when my orgasm was near during our night of love making, and she took me right
to the edge.  I realized in that moment that I did have a new master, and it was
my clitoris.  Beth pulled her mouth away and stood.

	"Uh, no, please finish me," I whined.  The first blow of the whip
striped across the cheeks of my ass.  "Eeeeooagh, . . Nooooo.  My plea was cut
short by the next taste of the whip's tail against the small of my back, the tip
wrapping around to burn the side of my belly.  I almost peed.

	I felt my mind moving into an unfamiliar place within, and the next kiss
of the whip was somehow different blazing across the backs of my thighs.  There
was vaguely awareness that my clitoris still throbbed with the pressure of
erection, not in the least discouraged by the unspeakable pain.

	The strips of fire on my backside merged with the molten tremors
coursing through my sex, making my nipples stand out for attention.  A primal
force rose toward the level of awareness, bringing me a place of refuge from the
outrageous assault, a place where the pain became a gift to my long denied
sexual needs.

	My voice still echoed through the hushed room, but the screams carried a
note of arousal in addition to the pain.  Beth moved from my back to my front,
resuming my punishment within brief seconds.  This time, when the lash crossed
above my pubic arch, my pussy answered with a gush of fluid.  I felt the tiny
muscles around my clit spasm as a bolt of ecstacy spread from the pulsing
finger.  "Uuuhhg,. . Uuugh."  The next blow was just under my shaking breasts. 
"Yes, go there, . . eeeahh, . . give it . . give me, . . MY TITS, DO IT."

	The first strike missed my distended nipples, but the second kissed my
left nipple with a delicious agony that shot like lightening straight to my core
of arousal.  A tidal wave of completion curled my toes and made my head thrash
about, with every part of me in between convulsing with glorious pleasure. "YES,
yes, I want your cocks, . . fuck me, make me a woman."  Even after the whipping
ended I writhed and moaned, then slumped in the ropes, only half conscious.

	Chapter 11

	I was barely aware, floating in a murky haze of pain and satisfaction,
and taking only passing interest in the way they were binding me.  I had vaguely
heard something about a fifteen minute break.  A wet cloth had been against my
crotch and thighs as the ropes went slack.  Now I was on the table under the
control of their hands.  Hard, abrasive ropes were being wrapped about me.  My
legs were drawn up, my knees bent to bring my heels against the backs of my
thighs, and then the ropes were wrapped several times around my thighs and
shins, holding my legs tightly folded in their embrace.  They moved my body to
pass the ropes upward behind my back, crossing them before looping them behind
my neck, then under my arms to cross again behind my upper back.

	

	The whole rig came together at my breasts.  They tightened the ropes,
inch by burning inch, forcing my legs apart, and pulling my neck forward till my
chin was on my chest.  Because of the way the rope went up my back, my torso
stayed straight as I lay on the table.  This part of the design also ensured
that my legs, thighs almost parallel, were positioned with knees nearly at the
same height as my pelvis.  Though the curtain was closed, I knew this tie was
designed to allow the best view of my crotch by the audience from their elevated
vantage point.

	It was extremely painful and awkward for me, but must have been a
delight for everyone else.  The finishing touch really hurt.  They tied a sort
of slip knot with the rope ends around the base of each of my tits, bulging the
mounds into grapefruit shaped balls of flesh.  As my tits started changing
color, the little slack in the ropes was cinched out, which pulled the already
painful breast flesh to each side, making me look like my chest had grown flabby
wings.  The skin between the rope loops burned with the tight stretching.

	One of the black men stood watching, his cock sliding in and out of
Beth's willing mouth.  My passion had cooled, and with it the desire to have a
man's prick pushing its way into my virgin pussy.  I couldn't sort out the
feelings the tight bondage gave me.  There was some panic at being unable to
move any part of my body without rubbing the rough weave of the thin rope
against many tender areas of skin.  Where the angry red welts left by the whip
scraped against the course surface, the pain doubled.

	Splayed out like a frog with its legs pinned to a dissecting table, with
my pink inner labia gaping apart to reveal my clit, pee hole and stretching
vagina, embarrassment overwhelmed me once more, but even this was overshadowed
by the prospect of being raped by a cock that was stretching Beth's lips and
bulging her cheeks.

	The black Amazon occupied herself with pinching and twisting my nipples,
apparently amused at the cockeyed way they pointed outward.  My involuntary body
twitches caused instant discomfort from the ropes.  Beth was finished getting
him ready.  The huge muscle man turned to me, bringing a gasp and a loud cry of
despair at the sight of his monster dick, covered with saliva and oozing liquid
from the pee slit.  "Noooo," I wailed, yet realizing the futility of my protest.

	He took the shaft in hand and rubbed the flared head up and my wet slot,
looking into my eyes and taunting me with an easy smile.  In a deep, cultured
voice with a British accent, he said, "I've never been able to get this cock of
mine inside a virgin before, maybe this time's the charm."

	With the last word, he held the purple black head against my tightly
puckered opening, put a hand on the top of each thigh, and lunged.  Pulling
backward with his hands for leverage as he flexed his hips forward.  The
mushroom head of his prick stretched my vaginal entrance like a snapping rubber
band, losing momentum when it reached my protective hymen.  I screamed, thinking
for several seconds that he had torn my skin apart.  It burned like the fires of
hell, then slowly subsided to the sharp, slightly itchy pain of a fresh cut.

	

	He held the tip against my maidenhead for a maddening several seconds,
then slowly pulled back with my canal gripping the flanged head so tight I could
feel the inner tissues trying to bulge out between my labia.  When the bottom
ridge of his cock head appeared between my cunt lips, he shoved with all the
weight he could muster.  My vagina was no match for three hundred pounds of
muscle behind an iron hard cock.  He bludgeoned deep inside, ripping through my
cherry like tissue paper.

	The multiple burns from the ropes, the fiery pain in my passage, and the
certainty of more to come, drove me once again toward that special place.  The
special place absorbed the burning agony and converted it to welcome, like the
feel of a massive itch the moment you start to scratch.  The collision of these
forces started working together to create an ecstatic release of sexual tension.

	Even as he continued driving deeper with each measured thrust, the walls
of my cunt began to contract rhythmically, squeezing and teasing his already
tightly clasped pole.  "Oh, yeah," he mumbled, caught up in the rare sensations
my channel was giving him.  His measured, deliberate pace gave way to his lust. 
Faster and faster came his powerful strokes, bringing a cry of passion from me
when his pubic bone began pounding my erect clitoris.

	My awareness of pain was down to the lancing hurt of his cock head
stabbing against the mouth of my womb, and I came.  Wonderful, convulsive waves
of delicious sensation pulsed from my throbbing groin and the depths of my cunt
cannel, reverberating the length of my body.  I jerked and thrashed like a
rabbit caught in a trap, the pain from the abrasive rope adding to the duration
and intensity of my sexual discharge.  "Give it to me harder. . . Hurt me with
your big cock. . Oh, yes, rape me. . give it to me . . Oooohhh."

	He pulled out of me, grabbed his cock shaft and jerked it three or four
times before a geyser of milky white cum sprayed me, again and again, till only
an oozing discharge remained.

	The other man, not as large as the first, quickly took his place in my
hungry cunt.  I was oblivious to the sticky rivers of cum on my belly and
breasts, wanting only to regain the peak of the mountain.

	I was close, oh so close, aroused by the friction of his pistoning meat,
but abruptly he pulled out.  I wailed my protest.  The sound of my
disappointment gave way to a shocked scream of violation when he buried his long
man tool deep in my rectum with one savage stroke.  My brain screamed a silent
cry of outrage, convinced this unnatural assault would never be tolerable.

	He stroked into my colon with a determined pace, at first bringing a
tearing pain, then a suffering fullness, but as the minutes past the probing
cock turned my guts into a newfound place of delightful stimulation.  "Ooah, it
is sooo good, . . sooo good."  The little finger of my clit stood out and wagged
up and down like a cropped puppy's tail, begging for attention.

	Though I longed to be touched, even whipped hard to go all the way to
the top, I still had a roller coaster series of orgasms before he filled my ass
channel with hot cum, the feel of it sending me over the edge one more time.

	Chapter 12

	

	I was panting, my body awash with sweat and cum.  The others stood
around me smiling.  Then the applause started, quickly joined by the four people
on the stage with me.  I flushed with pride and humiliation both, for I was
still trussed on the table with my leaking holes gaping open.  Not exactly a
dignified way to take a bow.  Blessedly, the curtain came down.

	Dr. Franks came through the curtain as they were releasing the
complicated harness, and he was smiling.  He clasped his hands together and
said, "Bravo, bravo.  Your training team wants me to convey their
congratulations.   We have a consensus of opinion that there has been a
misjudgment in our therapeutic assessment.  As a concrete expression of our
apology, Beth, I have volunteered to serve all of you in my suite.  We here at
the clinic believe that policies are applicable all the way to where the buck
stops, and that means with me.  Say in an hour to give you all time to freshen
up?"

	I was tired and sore, but satiated and happy as we left in a group. 
There was a definite change in how I was treated.  To begin with, the handsome
giant who took my cherry introduced himself as Nate, and in turn he introduced
the Amazon as Franny, or Fran for short, and the other man as Abe.

	We went to a large bath area adjacent to a steam room.  I felt a
surprising minimum of embarrassment using the bidet with just a partition
between me and the others.  I emerged to find them cavorting under a row of
steaming shower heads.  I found my eyes attracted with newfound affection to the
dangling black cocks of the men, and, at least for the moment, mother was not
chattering in my head.  No, I'd say my pussy was doing my thinking right then. 

	I had always known I had a host of emotional problems, but now the
stunning possibility arose that I was having a mental breakdown so profound that
I was becoming, overnight, the opposite of myself.  The best part was that this
new self interrupted this speculation with another thought, "Fuck it, let's have
us some fun!"

	There were fluffy towels, which were used in imaginative ways, and then
we all donned soft terry cloth robes, which were folded and stacked like towels
in a corner.  The white of their robes contrasted nicely with the rich skin
tones of my new black friends.

	We arrived at ornate entry doors promptly on time.  After a soft knock,
the door was opened by pretty young blonde woman in an abbreviated maid's
uniform.  It was mostly black, what there was of it, with white lace trim.  With
a prim little cap on her head, she was an erotic picture as her 'dress'
consisted of a thin strap around the back of her neck, running down beside
perky, pink nippled breasts, attached to a wide bodice across her rib cage just
beneath her swelling mounds.  From the top the black material formed a V shape,
fringed on the sides, to the top of her pubic, bone in white lace.  By the time
it reached her hairless crease the silky black cloth attached to a half inch
wide cord with bristles about a half inch long all around the circumference. 
This spiked cord disappeared between the clasping lips of her pussy, and where
it emerged up the crack of her ass the bristles ended and the silky material
resumed, spreading out to a bikini string that circled her hips and attached to
the edges of the front piece.

	

	She bowed to us like honored guests and took drink orders, then said,
"The master awaits you in the recreation room.  If you will follow me."  I'm not
sure 'recreation' is the word I would have used.  What we walked into was a
dungeon with a few pallets, couches and chairs that did little to soften the
menace of all the implements of torture.  And, much to my amazement, right in
the middle of the room, Dr. Franks stretched naked, his hands secured together
over his head, and his feet held wide apart by ankle cuffs chained to the floor.

	I was in awe, and I could see that the others were intimidated as well. 
We shuffled forward in the big room, no one wanting to lead the way.  We were so
slow that our drinks arrived before we were close enough to start interacting
with him.  I sure wasn't going to take the lead.  All the while, Dr. Franks
remained still, head and eyes downcast.  His middle aged good looks extended to
his body.  It was flat bellied and well toned.  A long cock, somewhat thin for
its length, dangled in front his loose scrotum.

	It was clear that none of my companions had been in such a scene with
the director before.  Apparently, he didn't admit to many mistakes in judgment. 
Considering the kind of retribution he could visit upon them, their timidity was
understandable.

	After nervously sipping our drinks for too long, Beth took the
initiative.  She walk up in front of the doctor and asked in a respectful tone,
"What would you like us to do?"

	Keeping his head bowed, he replied, "You are my mistress for this night. 
I am yours.  Punish me in any way that will please you."

	Beth came back to us and we all walked away together to confer in quiet
tones.  Beth said, "I'm the one who knows him the best, but I don't know what
the hell to do.  I've heard him say he can go all ways, but I don't have a clue
what his limits might be as a sub.  We're walking on egg shells folks."  There
were nods of agreement from our companions, so she said, "I've been thinking. 
What if we say we want to ball in front of him while someone else works him over
and keeps him from coming till we say so?  I, for one, think that plan is the
safest."

	All agreed, so we went back in a group and she addressed him, "It is our
decision that we will torment you by having sex in front of you.  Since we all
wish to participate, we need to summon help to administer your discipline."

	"As I said, mistress, I am yours to command.  I believe the twins are
available if that would please my mistress.  You may have the maid summon them
if that is your wish."

	Just as we finished our drinks the twins bounded through the door,
cavorting in their usual slightly lunatic way.  My pussy hurt at the sight of
them, but now that I got to watch their playful sadism at work on somebody else,
my organs began to tingle.  As before, they wore only skimpy pink thongs on
their slender hips.

	

	They skipped up to Dr. Franks.  They seemed unaffected by his naked
bondage, saying in unison, "Yes master?"

	Again without raising his head, he said, "For the rest of the night you
are to consider Beth and the others your masters and mistresses.  Do whatever
they tell you."

	"Oh, goodie, what fun!" enthused one of them as they exchanged slightly
unbalanced grins.  Turning to Beth, one asked, "Whatever are we to do?"

	Beth tried to choose her words carefully, then said, "Dr. Franks has
invited us to punish him for making a bad mistake.  We are going to be busy
doing stuff with each other."

	The twins sniggered and one said, "Yeah, nasty stuff I bet."

	"That is none of your concern.  You two are ordered to punish him for
our amusement until we tell you to stop.  The only condition is that you don't
let him come.  Aside from that, it will amuse us if you choose your own methods
of punishment.  Now get started."

	The twins walked over to the wall with the whips, clamps, harnesses,
dildos and other toys, conferring with their heads together.  They came back
with their initial selections, a pair of nipple clamps, a leather strap with a
wooden handle, and a short quirt.  As each of them took a nipple, pinching and
biting to prepare him for clamping, the rest of us got down to business.

	I was eager to experience everything there was to know and do.  My tiger
was loose and ready to explore her territory.  It was incredible to me that a
few, usually pain induced, orgasms could overcome twenty eight years of prude
training, but here I was, eager to watch the good doctor put through his paces,
and even more eager to be an active playmate in an orgy.

	Nate and Abe found a thick, rolled up mat which they spread on the floor
a few feet in front of the doctor.  The twins were finished clamping his
nipples, and one was preparing to whip his ass with a the strap, while the other
came in front.  She took his prick in her hand, jacked it a few times, then
pointed it at her face and gave it a lecture, "Now you behave yourself, Mr.
Prick, you heard mistress' orders, you are not to squirt.  If you are a bad boy
and look like you are going to disobey mistress, I'm afraid I will have to
punish you severely."  With her last words she help up the quirt with her other
hand as if showing it to Mr. Prick.

	Dr. Franks took the beginning blows without a sound.  His only response
to the pain was a noticeable thickening of his penis.  My attention was diverted
to the mat when Nate said, "Come down here girl and join the fun."

	Nate and Abe had shed their robes and were laying side by side a couple
feet apart.  Fran was kneeling above Abe's head and Beth was a few feet away
taking off her robe.  I joined her, and she said, "Are you ready to learn how to
suck cock?"

	

	Already heating up again, I responded, "Might as well, before the old me
gets a chance to take over.  Beth, I want you to know I'm sorry for doubting you
this morning.  I woke up with that old self running riot in my head.  I'm not
sure that part of me won't keep coming back, but I know I want to overcome it,
and I don't think that part will change."

	She went down on her knees beside Nate and motioned me to get down by
Abe.  She started with her hands on his cock and balls, squeezing and stroking. 
I tried to copy her moves, and was rewarded by a swelling of the dark brown
shaft.

	I glanced over at the doctor.  His dick had risen, standing high and
straight.  The twin with the quirt was shaking her finger at it.  Then she
raised the quirt and struck several quick blows across the top of his cock,
timing the hits with the wild up and down bobbing of the long shaft.  This time
the doctor let out a series of sharp cries.

	My pussy was creaming and my affection for the growing black organ
increasing.  Without waiting for Beth's instruction, I gave in to my desire and
bent down.  I pulled back his foreskin and explored the purplish head with my
tongue, then parted my lips and slid my mouth over it.  When the head filled my
mouth I clasped my lips beneath the flange and sucked, rubbing as much surface
with my tongue as I could reach.  There was a slightly musky odor, but in my
state it just turned me on all the more.

	The sounds of whipping stopped.  I raised up briefly to see the twins at
work on the doctor's balls.  They were tying a cord around the base of his
scrotum, and a leather sack on the dangling end of the cord made their intent
clear, even to me.

	I looked across at Beth.  She had moved so that her head faced toward
Nate's feet.  Her mouth slipped down over his stiff pole at an angle that
carried the head past the bend at the back of her throat, allowing her too go
all the way down till her nose touched the top of his ball sack.  I wanted to
learn how to do that.  Glancing at her as I moved, I tried to copy the angle of
her head.  My first few attempts resulted in gagging when Abe's cock head
reached the back of my throat.  I had to back off again and again.

	Beth heard me and raised up, telling me to relax my throat muscles.  It
took a dozen more tries, but I finally got past the barrier.  When my nose
reached his scrotum I forced myself to hold still as long as I could, trying to
get used to the unique sensation of having my air cut off and my throat
stretched.  I started to gag several times, fighting the throw up reflex.

	I pulled up to get some air, then took the plunge for the second time,
finding that it was easier than the first.  I stuck to the job, eager to please
Abe with my new skill, and before long the gag reflex had been tamed.  I took a
break from deep throating to lick the back of his eight inch shaft.  Just then,
I felt Fran's hands on my ass cheeks. 

	

	I wiggled my butt as high as my kneeling position would allow, and when
her wet tongue probed the bud of my anus I felt a shiver run through my whole
body.  I though I'd died and gone to heaven when she got it inside my little
hole.  She began fucking my ass with quick, darting stabs.  A little orgasmic
wave rolled through my groin as I dived back on Abe's waiting cock shaft. 
Fran's tongue moved down to give my cunt hole equal treatment as I milked the
cock in my mouth.

	Abe started moaning and thrusting his hips.  I wasn't sure, but I
suspected he was getting ready.  It seemed pretty sure when I felt a pulsing
contractions in the root of his cock.  I felt a delighted pride when the first
load of hot, salty goo filled my mouth.  Sucking turned to gulping as squirt
after squirt slid over my tongue.

	When his dick stopped twitching I licked up all traces of cum from his
shaft.  Beth was astride Nate, riding his cock, and beyond them I saw the twins
working on the grimacing doctor.

	One twin was swinging the heavy sack hanging from his balls, making his
scrotum stretch and swing back and forth.  The other twin was behind him, and it
took me a moment to realize that she was forcing a thick dildo up his ass.  She
was having a tough time because the shaft had wart like bumps all over its
surface. 

	But at that moment I had eyes only for his cock, since it was the only
available stiff one in the room.   My pussy was again doing my thinking.  I
pulled away from Fran's delightful mouth and got up to go to the beckoning
prick.

	Wanting to show off my newly acquired skill, I got down low enough to
take his shaft in my mouth.  It proved to be much harder to get him all the way
in from this awkward angle, but he soon began helping by thrusting his hips
forward.  I unconsciously reached back and put my hands behind the tops of his
thighs, adding the pull of my hands to his efforts.  He must have been primed
and ready from the twins' workout, because a full load of semen flooded my
throat before I could even establish a rhythm.

	I was licking my lips and looking up to him for approval when sounds of
disapproval came from behind me.  I turned to see a bunch of angry people.  I
shrugged my shoulders and gave them a little 'what did I do' smile, but
suspected I already knew.

	Fran said, "Now you've done it.  What are we going to do for a show
now?"  There was a rumble of agreement.  I felt my cunt pucker with excitement. 
Lowering my head contritely, I said, "I was thinking only of myself.  I deserve
to be severely punished, and I offer myself for your amusement."

	Chapter 13

	They released Dr. Franks and invited him to join the party.

	

	He seemed pleased and said, "She stopped my enjoyment as well, so it
seems we all have a stake in her punishment.  I'd like to suggest we make her
the first victim, sort of a trial run, on my newest invention."

	There was enthusiastic agreement from everyone but me. (Ass kissers)

	The doctor led the way to a device that was like nothing I'd ever seen. 
It looked like a fugitive from a fitness center.  The main part had a sort of
two part seat, like something off a old, single seat motorcycle, only there was
a three inch gap up the middle, so a rider's crotch would rest over the space. 
Looking closely, the split saddle was attached to either side of a post two feet
forward.  The point of attachment had an axle through the post, so if the axle
turned the saddle would go up or down.  In front of the post was an electric
motor with a geared wheel, and a closed loop drive chain connected the motor to
the axle.  A remote hand control for the motor lay at the end of a long cord.

	Some distance in front of the saddle were two low shackling posts, about
four feet apart.  Overhead and forward of the saddle, a cross bar with cuffs
dangled by two ropes a foot or so apart, which ran over one set of pulleys, then
down and forward to a second set.  From there the loose ends of the ropes came
back and hooked loosely to an eye bolt under the chair to keep the cross bar
from unraveling the rope.

	With the doctor directing, Nate and Abe picked me up like a feather and
put me in the chair.  My ankles were cuffed to the shackling posts slightly
lower than the seat, leaving no way to use my slightly bent legs to support my
weight.  They locked my wrists in cuffs with short chains attached to the cross
bar, making it clear that I needed to grip the bar with my hands to avoid
discomfort.

	That is when I started to figure this thing out.  The doctor handled one
of my tits, measuring in with his fingers, then went to a cabinet and came back
with two wire frame gadgets.  They had a small clamp in the center with two thin
wires coming from the front which connected to a steel ring.  On the back side
of the clamp ring were three thin chains, which attached to a much larger clamp
ring.  Finally, from this large ring came to more wires that went directly to
the steel ring to which the small clamp was also attached.

	The doctor came to my left breast, tilted slightly down by the position
the saddle and cross bar put me in.  As he started to fit the contraption over
my breast he explained, "As you can see, the large diameter tit clamp is lined
on the inside with short, pointed, but not sharp enough to puncture, teeth. 
When we constrict the clamp like so  - - it works much like a radiator hose
clamp - - the teeth add extra pain and also maintain a firmer grip.  The weight
of even a large woman can be supported using two of these.  Now that we have it
securely seated - - notice the look of discomfort - - we stop before the tit
balloons too much, which would hinder the best fitting of the nipple clamp.  Not
a problem with big nipples like these, but it's still the best way.

	

	"Now notice how I place the teeth of the nipple clamp level with the big
clamp right at the nipple's base; very important, as you will see.  Then we
simply fold over this clamping lever on the outside and the teeth snap inward
from all around the nipple, trapping it nicely.  Again they are not sharp enough
to penetrate, though if a lot of pulling takes place there can be some minor
bleeding.  Quiet, slave.  Now we take in the bottom like so to create a sexy
looking bulge, and we're done.  As you can see, however, the bulge won't last
long under stress since the large clamp has several inches more slack in its
connecting wires than does the nipple clamp.  This, as you will see, means that
the nipples will take all of the weight until the breast is stretched near the
maximum tension possible, then the base clamp comes into play with its greater
load carrying capacity."

	The teeth chewing into the base of my tit were painful, but nothing like
the ones against the nipple.  The doctor coached Beth on the installation of the
right side, while the twins lurked around behind the main group chattering
happily.  After some minor adjustments, the ends of the pulley ropes were
clipped to the steel rings with a small amount of slack in the wires leading to
each nipple clamp.  There was much more slack to the base clamps.

	Dr. Franks was satisfied.  He said, "Now for the crown jewel.  We must
consider carefully."  He produced a sort of tool box with a hinged top which
opened up the front and top together.  Inside, laying in separated slots, were
ten slightly different implements, which looked like dildos wearing collars with
six inch tongues sticking out.

	He lifted one out and held it in one hand.  Using the other to point, he
said, "I like the looks of this one best.  Here at the bottom of the tongue is
the connecting socket.  We will be attaching it to a connector pipe that fits a
socket in the axle post.  The pipe is free to rotate, which should add to our
enjoyment as it will allow the subject to move her bottom from side to side. 
The dildo is good size and the shaft is covered with rows of little pointed
pyramids, getting larger toward the bottom.  These won't cut, but won't be that
pleasant either, and should appeal to only the most ardent pain lover.

	"As you can see, the dildo screws through the flange here at the end of
the tongue.  It can go from 4 inches to 12 inches by simply twisting the handle
on the bottom.  The discerning among you will know that the tongue is shaped to
the contours of the female genitalia.  It might be described as an uneven wedge,
but its purpose is the same as the horse, which is crude by comparison.  We have
a variety of designs.  The wedge on this one has a hard rubber comb tooth
design.  Since our subject is known to have an abnormally long and thick
clitoris, I believe this one is the most appropriate.  Some of the others would
almost certainly do serious damage if she suffered an erection while riding. 
Never fear, this little beauty will do an admirable job of keeping her in a
dilemma.

	"The time has come, slave, to start your ride.  I am going to set the
dildo for six inches of penetration.  The one choice you have it to request a
deeper fit.  The more muscle control you have in grasping the dildo, and the
deeper it is, the more you can keep your weight off the teeth.  You can also
relieve the weight by pulling down with your arms, but of course will transfer
your body weight to your tits."

	I didn't know whether to be scared, excited or baffled, but was glad the
wait was over.  I heard some metallic clanking under me and then the whir of the
motor.  The seat began descending and me with it.  The cross bar came down with
me, making the slack disappear in the rope attached to my tit and nipple clamps.

	

	There was oil on the round tip of the dildo, and it started into my sore
vagina smoothly.  Then the spikes began to penetrate.  I didn't like the feel of
the little spines, and didn't look forward to the big ones. 

	I was more worried about my tits at that point.  By the time I felt the
first touch of the wedge shaped rubber teeth moving against my sensitive inner
lips, my nipples were pulled out several inches, turning my tit flesh into
grotesque cones, like the ones road crews use to shut down traffic lanes.

	I was seating against the flange, the hard points digging painfully into
my pink cleft, when the pull on the base ring around my breasts started.  Once
it came to rest the dildo felt kind of good, stretching the walls of my cunt. 
The comb was a different story.  It hurt with a stabbing ache that grew rapidly
worse.  I tested the idea of relieving the weight by pulling with my arms, but
the added tension on my tits was too painful to do it for more than a few
seconds.  I also found that I could wiggle my pelvis back and forth.  While this
didn't do much for the pain, I found that it rubbed my clit in a delightful way. 
I was limited in movement by the amount of give in the walls of my cunt channel,
but the pressure going back and forth added to my pleasure as well.

	I was soon in a slow grinding sway, my clit growing and probing down
between two hard rubber teeth.  The whole group was watching me when the doctor
said, "Not what I expected, but interesting.  This is one subject who would
enjoy a long ride.  I may have to rethink that tongue."

	I was surging toward orgasm, reveling in the pain and pleasure of having
almost every erotic part of me abused at the same time.  I loved having the
ability to shift the pressure from crotch to tits, and back again. 

	Lost in my arousal, I barely heard the doctor's voice, but did perk up
at the word 'ass.'  I couldn't see the others at that point, but I wiggled with
pleasure when a greasy finger rimmed my anus.  The doctor said, "It might not be
good form as your host, but after all, it is my machine."

	Then I heard Beth say, "Here, permit me to guide you."  Masculine hands
gripped my hips.  I held still expectantly as Beth's hand pulled one ass cheek
aside.  The warm head of Dr. Franks's cock was touching my willing bud, and with
a pull of his hands he was in me.  This time having a cock up my ass felt good
from the start.  I was so close to coming already, I welcomed the painful
contact of the flange.  My pleasure was also increased by rhythmic pull on my
tits that was caused by his pulling hands and pushing cock.

	When he was stroking all the way into my bowels, I gripped his cock with
my ass and begged, "Drive me harder, . Jam it in me . . fuck meeee."  He took up
the challenge, slapping his pelvis against me with each stroke hard enough to
rock me off the comb, and setting my cunt on fire with the friction of the
spikes.  As he pulled out I crunched back down on the spines, my hard clitoris
jamming between the teeth, as if it were fucking a tight rubber cunt.

	

	My best orgasm yet swept me into delirium.  From a distance I heard
howling, not knowing it was me.  When he was finished and Nate was getting
ready, I croaked out, "Give me another three inches."

	Most memorable of all was Nate.  When he finally got in my ass, the ride
he took and the places he took me will live forever in my memory; that is as
much of it as I can remember.  To get the right angle for penetration he had to
squat down and come up under me.  With his vast size and strength, when he drove
his big prick home he lifted me half way off the dildo, only to slap back down
in delightful agony, my tits feeling like they were nursing two beasts with
sharp teeth. 

	I was at the mercy of many masters, the clamps pulling my tits, the
teeth stabbing my groin, the spiny monster in my cunt, and all of them overseen
by the king cock hammering into my ass.  My last conscious thought was, "I've
got to get me one of these things."

	Awareness came slowly.  There were gentle hands putting soothing lotion
on my breasts, and other hands soothing my aching inner folds.  The sounds I
heard were sex.  I opened my eyes, surprised to see the twins ministering to me
with gentle, quite sane, expressions on their faces.  When they saw I was awake
they gave me a grin that said, "Fooled you didn't we."  I smiled back in
appreciation of their acting skills.  I saw them for what they really were, two
fine actresses doing what they loved.

	Beth was on the mat nearby, up on all fours with the doctor's prick in
her mouth and Abe behind her in one hole or the other.  Fran was straddling
Nate, bouncing up and down on his wonderful sword.  The sights, sounds and
smells roused me from my soreness.  I smiled up at the twins, held out my arms,
and said, "Well, girls, I''m a paying customer."  They smiled and came to me.

	Chapter 14

	I slept till early afternoon, waking sore everywhere it's possible to be
sore, including deep inside every orifice in my body.  Memories flooded my mind,
but what I needed was rest.  A long bath helped in restoring me, but I still
doubted my fitness for action that day.

	Dr. Franks came to see me, bidding me sit with him on the couch.  He
smiled and said, "Can you even imagine going back to your old life.  You are the
most natural pain slut I've ever treated, and please don't take offense at the
term, it is meant as a compliment."

	I smiled and he continued, "You certainly tamed my new pride and joy
last night.  I felt a little foolish."  We both smiled at that.  "You need to
recuperate today.  We still have some trials ahead, but with what your sex
organs must feel like after last night, it wouldn't be fair to put you through
more before tomorrow.  That doesn't mean today is a by.

	

	"So far, your training has been geared toward submission, with the goal
of breaking you down.  You fooled us.  You bypassed about four stages, like a
child prodigy bypasses beginner's piano lessons.  This has pros and cons, mainly
in failing to ingrain obedience.  Since your goal was transformation, it is just
as well served.  The other end of the spectrum, however, is to achieve the
ability to be assertive.  While normally our protocol delays that phase till the
end of training, your team has concluded that we need to chart new territory in
your case.

	"Tonight, with Beth reinstated as your trainer, the two of you will have
a session with Bill and Peg Connors, two high limit submissives.  When they
visit us they waive safe words, trusting that we will be true to our rules about
permanent damage.  We will also be monitoring as a team via one way mirror, and
much is riding on your ability to fulfill their needs by taking them to the
limit, but no further.  You will be graded, so to speak, on inventiveness,
enthusiasm, ability to play the dominant part convincingly, and so forth.  Nate
and Abe will be there to provide cock and muscle, and will follow your orders to
the letter.  Are you ready?"

	His words both excited and frightened me with the awesome challenge and
responsibility involved.  It was one thing to be a passive 'victim,' and quite
another to be held accountable for the success of a session.  One way I have
control over only my responses, where as mistress I'd be responsible for all.  
I gave him as convincing a yes as I could.

	Although I had made the decision to get my hair cut and wear it on my
shoulders, for that night Beth and I decided we'd both wear our hair up in a
swirl at the crown of our heads, thinking it would make the best dom impression. 
For dress we wore black leather corsets that cupped the bottoms of our breasts,
leaving the nipple exposed, then tucked in at the waist and ended where our hips
began to flair, leaving our genitals naked above thigh high soft leather spike
heel boots.

	Nate and Abe fell in behind us wearing their tan leather thongs and mid
calf boots.  Our session was in one of the smaller punishment rooms, but a tour
that day after the doctor left my room had revealed  plenty of options for the
night's festivities. 

	I had myself pretty worked up before we got to the chamber, and got more
so at the sight of the two naked submissives hanging side by side off the floor. 
They wore blindfolds, and their legs were secured far apart. .

	The man, Bill Connors, had close cropped, dark curly hair and a boyish
face with a little pug nose.  He would qualify for cute, but not handsome.  His
body was devoid of hair, and since he had a slight build as well, the effect was
to make him look much younger than he real age.  The only 'flaw' in this picture
was his man sized flaccid dick and pendulous balls.

	Peg was also devoid of hair, other than her honey blonde wave.  She also
had a cute face and slight build.  One of those women who stop reshaping in
early puberty, she weighed no more than a hundred pounds.  About five foot
three, she had small, conical breasts with small pink aureole and nipples the
size and shape of pencil erasers.  Her hips were slender, her ass and legs
rounding out the neck down impression of early adolescence.

	

	With a bad case of stage fright puckering my cunt, I said, "I am
Mistress Jan, and the two of you are mine for the night.  You, with the pathetic
soft prick, will be known as Worm, and you with the little girl tits, I will
call Tiny.  Do you like your new names?"

	"Yes, mistress Jan," they responded in unison.

	Bill's cock was already starting to swell, giving me a little charge of
confidence.  "It has been three months since your last visit with us.  How many
unfortunate sexually repressed people have you initiated into bondage and
discipline?"

	They looked puzzled.  No wonder, I was winging it.  Peg finally said,
"None, mistress."

	"Don't you think you have been taught enough here to pass it on to those
in need?"

	"Oh yes mistress."

	"Then you have behaved with great selfishness.  What should be done
about that?"

	Peg responded quicky, "Yes, mistress, we need correction for our selfish
behavior.  Please punish us severely."

	I walked up to Bill and took his swelling prick in my right hand,
stretching it upward and jacking him off slowly.  Taking his balls in my other
hand, I gave them a hard squeeze and said, "It pleases me to warm up by whipping
your wife, Tiny.  Then I will whip you all over.  You'd be wise not to let this
little thing stick out, or it will get hurt.  By the way, do you like women?  I
can see by your choice in wives that you like little girls, but how about real
women with tits and everything."

	To my surprise they both blushed, but he said, "Yes, mistress, I like
women."

	"Then you shall watch me whip Tiny, and that way you can see how real
tits wiggle and bounce."  Abe took of his blindfold as I retrieved a cat o' nine
tails and stepped behind Peg.  I was nervous about my lack of experience, not
wanting to mess up, and also unsure how I would feel actually hurting somebody
on purpose.  Bill's eyes darted about, lingering on the black men, then
furtively looking Beth and me up and down, his cock rising out from his loins.

	Whipping a defenseless naked body turned me on from the first delicious
"whap" of tails striking skin.  Since Peg was still blindfolded, the first lash
across her ass cheeks came out of the blue.  She cried out, as much in surprise
as pain.  I moved the next hit to her thighs, then her lower back, then ass
again.  Bill strained to look, his cock rigid and half way to his belly.

	I was damn near an orgasm from the visceral excitement I felt.  I didn't
stop on her back side till it was red from knees to neck, and with every lash my
victim jerked against her bindings and exhaled a soft, "Huagh," sound.  I
ordered her blindfold off before I started on her front, noting as I moved
around that her bald little pussy was dripping passion juice on the floor.

	

	The first strike was across one thigh, the tails wrapping around to
sting the tender inner surface.  I hit the other thigh, then just above her
pubic bone.  Up and down I went, turning her front as red as her back.  Finally,
I paused and asked, "Let's see, have I missed anything?"

	Peg looked my way with eyes downcast, and said in a high pitched whine,
"My titties, mistress.  You haven't whipped my titties."

	"So I haven't, but then they are so small and flattened out, it wouldn't
be much fun."  Turning to Beth, I said, "Put her on the bench with her hands
behind her back.  While you crop her little titties Abe can put her mouth to
good use.  Put the bench crosswise in front of Worm so he can see what a real
cock looks like in her mouth."

	They moved the hip high bench and tied her legs down on either side so
her head hung off the I started flogging Bill on his back side, sending his
pelvis forward with each blow.  Abe stripped off his thong, half hard already,
and moved to her head.  Putting a big hand on either side of her head, he fed
his cock between her gaping lips, running the shaft deep in her throat.

	Beth and I set up a rhythm of "whap, splat, whap, splat" sounds,
interrupted only by the time I took to move to his front.  Both of them were
very vocal, though Peg's attempts to register the pain of her tit whipping were
muffled by Abe's stiff dick in her mouth.

	I knew care was necessary as I deliberately aimed the whip downward to
catch the top of Bill's penis.  Easing up on the force of the blow, I was still
rewarded with a loud scream.  I hit it twice more on top before going after his
nipples.  His hips were jerking spasmodically, no longer responding to
individual strikes of the whip.  On impulse, I swung my arm in a downward loop
and back up, catching the underside of his cock with most of the thongs.  A
couple of strands found the tender sack beneath.  The way his body went rigid I
thought I was in deep trouble.  It seemed he wasn't even able to scream.  After
a moment of fear on my part, I exhaled with relief at the sight of white jism
spurting out with such pent up pressure that the first eruption landed across
Peg's upper body, with a few drops actually clearing her body to splatter one of
Beth's boots.

	I ordered him down and told him to clean up his mess, starting with
Beth's boot and ending with Peg's chest.  I retrieved a crop, and while he
crawled around licking, I used the crop on his back and ass.

	Trying to keep track, I told Abe to save his sperm for later, and also
told Beth to stop.  I stepped over and looked down at Peg.  Her eyes were glazed
and so much cream had oozed out of her pussy, it was running over her asshole
and pooling on the bench.  I grabbed her hair and yanked her head up so I could
look into her face before snarling, "You have been having orgasms, haven't you
Tiny?"

	She sort of sniffled before whimpering, "Just two mistress."

	

	"Worthless shits," I thundered, "you had no permission to come.  I have
been entirely too lenient with you.  Now I must be stern.  While you are
suffering, remember that you have brought it upon yourselves."

	That afternoon I had come up with an interesting idea.  Now was the
time, I decided.  I got both of them cuffed behind their back and laid down,
stomachs up, on a locker room type bench.  I wanted them able to move themselves
toward their respective ends of the bench, so we tied their feet pulled back on
each side of the bench, secured with ropes to the ends.  That way, if they
wanted to slide they could do so by trying to straighten their legs, which would
elevate their hips and move them away from each other.

	When they were down, their crotches facing one another, I looped a cord
around the base of Bill's scrotum, tying it so tight his balls bulged out.  I
dropped the loose end on his belly and turned my attention to Peg.  For her I
had discovered a wicked torture dildo.  Beth had assured me no permanent damage
could occur, so I green lighted my idea.

	The dildo was a brilliant piece of machinery, very well made.  The tip
was the size of a normal cock.  From their it expanded over its eight inch
working length to the thickness of a big man's wrist, but not in a smooth
manner.  Instead, it was like the shape of a fur tree, with increasingly large
ridges standing out from its central core. These were not sharp edged, so while
the thing would slide in far easier than it would pull out, I was sure a woman
with my talents would get off big time being fucked by this beauty.  There were
slots in the bottom slope of these ridges, their size about right to admit a
wooden ice cream bar stick, maybe half an inch wide and an eight high.

	These slots were the dildo's nasty secret.  A twist knob with a ring on
the end protruded from the base.  I held it up for both of our victims to see,
then slowly twisted the knob.  It made a clicking sound, and on the second click
little plastic wedges appeared in slots.  With each click the intricate
mechanism inside the dildo cranked the miniature chisels further out, slanting
down at an angle that would, if they were cranked out to maximum, be both
extremely painful against the inner tissues, and make the dildo very difficult
to withdraw.

	I decided six clicks would be sufficient for my purpose.  I ordered Beth
to straddle Peg's face, and the men to hold her down.  Beth was delighted to
spread her cunt over Peg's mouth.  The guys made sure one of their hands tightly
gripped a pert titty.  I inserted the head of the dildo in her sopping entrance,
then shoved and twisted as she tried to fight it by bucking her hips.  It took
all I could muster to stretch her tunnel entrance enough to take in the fat
base, but finally her vaginal skin bulged around the last step.  This left a
then rod with the twist knob and ring on the end, about four inches from her
groin.

	Twisting the knob to extend the wedges into the walls of her cunt got me
a hair's breadth from an orgasm, the contortions of her body and her muffled
screams testifying to the torture the device was inflicting.  It was all I could
do to stop at six clicks.

	

	Next came the device designed to make the plan come together, a double
ended dildo with an expandable rod in between.  The identical dildos were mean
looking things, somewhat like I had seen before.  They also started at the size
of a cock head, then got larger and larger, only in this case the shaft had the
appearance of a bunch of rings stacked with each a little larger than the one
above it.  This would cause it to enter an ass or cunt in a way that would
ripple the inner tissues, painfully so as the thicker end created painful
stretching of the channel.

	The expandable connecting rod could be quickly moved, like a car jack
with the lock released, but once the lock was set, it would only expand in
length.  It had a pumping handle, and each ratchet of the handle stretched the
pole half an inch longer.

	It took the four of us to get the dildos into the rectums of our fuck
toys, who quickly realized they would soon need to strain up with their legs if
more of the dildos were forced into their back passages.

	I completed the setup by tying Bill's ball harness to the ring on Peg's
cunt dildo.  They were both looking fearful as I said, "We are ready to start
our little experiment.  I want to see who can take the most tension.  Will it be
Tiny's cunt, or Worm's nuts.  The first one to beg will get lots of negative
attention and dirty jobs.  The brave one gets an hour of whatever they want. 
Shall we begin?"

	Chapter 15

	As an after thought I added, "And to keep us from getting bored while
the men jack you apart, Mistress Beth and I will do some face sitting with our
quirts handy."

	I was so turned on by the sight of their soon to be suffering genitals
that I started coming seconds after settling down on Peg's tongue.  I later
learned that the next half hour triggered a minor orgy on the other side of the
nearby mirror. 

	I gave Peg's pretty tits occasional swats with my short quirt, but I was
too engrossed in the scene before me to give whipping her much attention.  The
dildos were inching apart, stretching their sphincters wider, click by click. 
This forced them to raise their hips higher and higher to make the penetration
bearable.  The erotic connection this formed between my eyes and my sex organs
made me lose track of the number of my cums.

	Peg was first to try pushing herself away from the invading dildo.  Her
mouth slid from my clit to my urethra.  The already tight cord between his balls
and her cunt dildo grew taunt as a guitar string, stretching his ball sack, and
at the same time causing her cunt tissue to protrude away from her groin.  For
the first time real sounds of muffled distress were heard.  Peg's avoidance
attempt proved futile as the next click left Bill with the same depth of
penetration, with Peg taking the whole half inch in her protesting anus.

	

	I signaled Beth to get off and we both stepped away.  I wanted to watch
without the distraction of Peg's mouth.  It also seemed the best way to make the
ordeal unforgettable for the victims.

	Soon the two of them looked like gymnasts, their upper backs and bent
legs supporting their arching bodies, with their butts a foot above the bench. 
Bill's scrotal skin would stretch no more, his balls in agony in a tight pouch
at the end of a long band of shiny tight skin.  Peg's cunt was even more
arousing.  I would not have guessed a woman's vaginal tissues could be so
elastic, but her's were stretching so far that her outer mounds pulled away from
her crotch, and her inner flesh was being pulled between then.  It looked like
she was being pulled inside out in an effort to give birth to the dildo.

	  The dildos still had a couple of inches left on her end and a little
less on his, when Bill surrendered, yelling, "I'll do anything, . Suck cock,
tongue assholes, whip me, only pleases stop."

	Two hours later, they were exhausted and so were we. I forgot my
soreness somewhere during that time.  I must have because at one point I had
Bill in my ass, Nate up my cunt, and Abe in my mouth, while Beth and Peg were
doing a 69.  I was discovering that being the boss was a good thing at times.

	Chapter 16

	I slept late again, only this time I woke feeling bright, rested, happy
with the universe, and no longer tender or sore in my delicate places.  Dr.
Franks arrived for another conference with a beaming smile on his face.

	"Excellent, excellent," he enthused, "quite the most exciting and
inventive performance in longer than I care to remember.  Not one member of the
team left before the finale.  I still can't figure out how all six of you got
into that last grouping.

	"Jan, I've never said anything like this before, but with a bit more
training and experience I think you could be the Mozart of extreme sex.

	"I'm here to advise you that we have something unusual, indeed
unprecedented, planned for this evening.  As I assume you know, this facility,
both clinic and resort, are privately owned.  You may have assumed me to be the
owner, but that would be incorrect.  A handful of very wealthy men and women
hold interests, but one man founded and has a controlling interest in our
operation.  Very few people are aware of the identities of our owners, just a
handful of staff.  I trust you will, therefore, keep this information in
confidence."  I was puzzled, but nodded my head yes.

	"Because of your remarkable performance, the founder has decided to
personally participate in a show in the main lounge.  Just the two of you will
perform, and the script will involve going both ways.  It will start with you
receiving a whipping from him.  After that, he will submit for such retribution
as you decide to inflict upon him if you have accepted yours well.  At the very
least he expects a beating of equal ferocity, but there will be no limitations
imposed, other than dictated by the available implements and props."

	

	That night my trusty friends, Nate and Abe, provided an escort.  I wore
a silver eye mask that covered half my forehead down to the top of my cheeks.  I
was dressed in a radiant silver robe and wore matching silver heels.  Under the
robe I was nude.  As we entered I saw a tall, well proportioned man with wavy
salt and pepper hair already on the stage.  He had a strong jaw and full,
expressive mouth, but that was all I could tell because he had a black mask from
the top of his forehead, almost to the tip of his nose.  He was barefoot, but
wore a long black robe that reflected the light.

	Also on the stage was a small, crotch high table with light padding on
the top, and a few feet away was a saddle about the same height as the table. 
There was also a rack of whips and other things I couldn't distinguish from that
distance.

	We proceeded down the isle in a slow, solemn procession, reminding me of
the pomp of a church ceremony.  When I finally stood before him, his lips set in
a slight smile, my escorts backed away.  I was getting into the mood, and all I
could think of to do was slowly open my robe.  I brought it off my shoulders and
down my arms, then dropped it to the floor.  I lowered my eyes and slowly went
down to one knee, sweeping my arms back and bowing.

	He said in a deep voice, "Arise my precious one and prepare for three
tests of your worthiness.  First, you will receive thirty strokes on your lovely
ass.  Second, I will administer thirty lashes upon your exquisite breasts. 
Finally, you shall suffer thirty blows upon your most tender organs.  If you
bear each of these trial bravely, without complaint or attempts to avoid the
instrument of your torture, I shall then submit myself in homage to your
greatness, and attempt to withstand your choice of trials with as much courage."

	I could have heard a pin drop in the crowded room as he finished
speaking.  With a sweeping gesture of his arm he bade me rise and walk to the
saddle.  I noticed there were no straps, chains or cuffs, and a thrill went
through me, realizing how severe the test was to be.

	I faced the saddle and laid down over it with my buttocks thrust back. 
Then I spread my legs as far apart as I could and still keep my feet on the
floor.  To my delight, instead of a whip, crop or strap on my ass, I felt strong
hand caressing the cheeks.  Gently spreading them, his lips came to my crack. 
He kissed my bud, then my bare labia.  His skilled tongue soon explored up and
down my sex, raising the temperature of my organs like a thermometer in boiling
water when he sucked my clit into his mouth.

	I was right on passions edge when he left me.  A moment later he was at
my lowered head, offering me the wooden handle of a leather strap to kiss.  I
did so, reverently.

	"Uuhh," I cried, as the first blow crossed both cheeks of my ass.  I was
so aroused that the jolt from the heavy strap and its stinging pain just added
fuel to my fire.  By the tenth strike my ass was moving like a cat in heat,
begging for more.  This provocative display inflamed my master's arm, and the
force of each blow increased until the strap was driving me against the saddle.

	

	The master was fiendish with the last ten lashes.  He move aside just
enough so that the belt would not reach to both cheeks, and his first attempt
brought the pointed tip of the strap against the sensitive patch of skin between
my cunt and asshole.  "Eeeeaaah," I let loose for real, struggling desperately
for the first time to maintain my position.  The next swing he made the tiny
adjustment needed to find his real target, sending the tip into the center of my
anal opening.  This time the agony was so stunning my knees buckled.  My scream
nearly deafened me as I struggled with the brain chemicals which were telling my
legs to collapse.

	No amount of arousal could make that pain easy for my body to absorb,
and I stopped worrying about spoiling the show with a premature orgasm and
started just trying to straighten back into position.  He paused, realizing I
wasn't trying to evade, and when I was able to raise my ass back into position,
I deliberately showed my willingness by thrusting it further back.

	I was better prepared for the next snap against my anal bud, going on to
suffer another four direct hits without collapsing.  I heard the strap drop to
the floor, and again his mouth ministered to my swollen anal ring, soothing and
restoring my arousal.

	He bade me rise.  I turned to him, my head held high and my back
straight.  Then he took my hand in his and we proceeded to the table as though
going to meet the Queen.

	Moving gracefully, I knelt on the table with my knees on the edge.  I
spread my legs as far apart as I could, then leaned back to clasp my hands on my
ankles, forcing my spine into an arched position.  With my hips raised and my
chest nearly facing the ceiling, a shiver of excitement ran through me at the
way this exhibited my naked groin and tits to the audience.  In this position I
could raise my head to see my upthrusting mounds, but decided it would be more
erotic for the audience if I left my neck bent back.  Looking out into the
darkened room with eyes upside down, I could only wait.

	He leaned over my left breast, caressing it tenderly, bringing his lips
and tongue to arouse the brown aureole and my thick, distended nipple.  When it
was fully engorged he left it and moved to the other side, trailing his finger
across my pubic arch as he moved.  My strained rib cage rose and fell with
anticipation as he stimulated my right mammary.

	This time he presented the dreaded crop for my kiss.  I braced myself
for the bruising assault to come.  I had seen it in action, and wielded it
myself the night before, but I had not tasted it myself.

	He used the little loop of leather on the end of the crop to tease my
nipples and curving breast mounds, then struck without warning.  Sounding like
the crack of doom, the end of the stalk buried in the resilient flesh below my
right nipple.  I could feel the shape of my mound distort, then jerk en masse
toward my shoulder.  The bruising pain registered about the time it was
rebounding.  "Eeeiiaaah," I pierced the air with this new insult to my being, my
tit flesh still quivering.

	

	I strained to go deep enough into that primal corner of my mind to
survive, holding on to the idea that soon I would master the ability to turn
pain into pleasure at will. "Just hold on a little longer," I thought to myself,
over and over again.

	"Thwack," came the next strike, creasing the top of my left breast. 
"Aauugh," I gurgled, spittle escaping my wide open mouth.  I couldn't stop my
head from raising up, expecting to see a gaping wound at the site of the fiery
pain.  The skin was blessedly intact, but a bright red mark was rising to an
angry welt.

	My whole body jerked and undulated under the brutality of the crop, and
the jerking of my rib cage sent my pliable tits into a gyrating wobble that made
accurate targeting difficult for the master. With my stiff nipples flailing
about, the inevitable happened.  The leather loop caught my right nipple a
square blow, driving the sensitive nub deep into the surrounding flesh.  The
pain was so intense I choked on my scream, turning it into a gagging sound.

	And that's when the magic happened.  I became lost to my surroundings,
heedless of anything but the delicious pain.  Muscles which had been near
exhaustion from holding my position, now eagerly obeyed the command to arch up
further in invitation.  An electric connection formed between my nipples and my
throbbing clit, sending me into bliss as I shouted, "Harder . . hit them harder
. . make me suffer . . Oh, yes, yes."

	I lost all dignity.  Collapsing on my back, my legs flailing around off
the edge of the table, I grabbed the base of my tits with each hand.  He stood
above my right side.  I looked up into his lust filled eyes and offered my
nipples to him by squeezing my breasts to steady and raise them toward the
poised crop.  I forced my body to still as my orgasm subsided to a steady
throbbing need, unable to completely tame a weak thrusting motion of my pelvis.

	The crop whistled down on my left nipple, bulging the flesh above my
gripping finger.  My only reaction as I held my gaze on master's eyes, was a
soft "uh," repeated again and again as the tip of the crop moved from nipple to
nipple with unerring accuracy.

	This time he dropped to his knees and lifted me with his arms around my
lower back.  I let my back arch, my face lifting toward the ceiling as I offered
my suffering breasts to his mouth.  The light touch of his lips made the burning
pain all the more delicious.

	After he stood up he told me to present myself for the third trial. 
Having my nether region whipped for the first time was not something I had been
anxious to undertake, but I was aroused and determined to pass this last test. 
"What the hell," I thought, staying where I was on the table and raising my
legs.  I pulled them back with my hands, bringing my knees down into the crook
of each elbow beside my tits, spreading my thighs and presenting my upturned
genitals to the master.  He now held a cat, only this one had knots in the ends
of each tail. 

	

	This time no preliminary fondling, he just presented the long handle for
a kiss.  With no easy thigh strokes, as if determined to break me, he brought
the tails squarely down on my sex.  They made a sound like a hand slapping
water, but much louder.  Digging into my soft pink tissues, the little knots
doubled the torture inflicted by the rest of each thong.  Although I couldn't
suppress a scream at this new and agonizing source of sensation, a small inner
part of me rejoiced, knowing I was discovering the most powerful source of
ecstacy yet.

	He attacked my cunt with abandon, bringing it down in long looping
swings of his arm and upper body.  Not once did he stop moving to let me adjust,
but kept up a relentless "splat . . splat .. splat."  The individual lancing
pains gave way to a throbbing fire, the white hot center of which was my
thrusting clit, which caught attention over and over.  I matched his pace with
rising and falling cries.

	The fire in my groin kept me at a pitch of arousal where it seemed I
could make the choice to orgasm at will.  I was suddenly in a place where I had
the desire to torture myself by denying the climax my body craved. And as I held
off, I knew that each moment of denial would be rewarded by a higher level of
bliss.

	I was still in this space when the whip dropped and his mouth came down
to my burning clitoris.

	I erupted  as soon as the suction of his mouth brought his tongue
against my rigid little shaft.  My cunt spewed so hard it wet his chin.  He gave
my clit a long mouth fuck, and unlike a man's short climax, my orgasm discharged
a steady stream until my body gave out and I collapsed.

	Chapter 17

	He stood up.  Looking down at my exhausted form and glassy eyed
expression, a thin smile played on his lips.  He waited patiently for me to
catch my breath and regain my composure.  When I was finally able to sit up on
the edge of the table, he opened his robe slowly.  Though he must have been near
fifty, he sported a magnificent erection.  Long and thick, the shaft curved
gently up from base to tip.  A tight scrotum with balls to match his prick
competed the delectable picture.

	I brightened to my task as he copied my earlier gesture and got down on
one knee, giving me a courtly bow.  I stood up, still a little unsteady, and
motioned him to the saddle.

	Looking at the implements, there was a wicked looking dildo that was
ridged like the one I had used the night before, only without the slots.  I went
behind him and wasted no time, putting my tongue to his anal bud, I worked it
inside and fucked till he started to respond.  Without taking my tongue away, I
slipped part of the dildo into my sopping cunt, then quickly replaced by tongue
with the tip of the dildo.  Before his relaxed sphincter could react, I had the
first few inches buried up his bum.

	I stood to get more leverage.  His body tensed, but he made no sound as
I twisted and shoved, reaming the uneven shaft deeper and deeper into his tight
passage.  When only three or four inches protruded from his ass I let go of it.

	

	I went through the same ceremony with the strap, and after he kissed it
I started on his back, working my way down to his ass cheeks.  His body would
tense, even quiver, as the blows landed, but the only sound he made was the
noise from suddenly expelling his breath.  I aimed a few light blows at the end
of the dildo, but even these got little more than a harder jerk from his body.

	When his back and ass were good and red, I had him turn around to lean
back over the saddle, thrusting his hips to pull his groin forward.  I retrieved
a crop and two leather thongs.  Taking a page from Beth's session with Jerry, I
tied one cord beneath the ridge of his cock head and put the end between his
teeth, stretching his shaft up his stomach while pulling his head down to his
chest.  Then I took the other thong and wrapped it twice around the top of his
scrotum.  Drawing it tight, I then wrapped the two loose ends behind the stub of
the dildo, brought them back around his scrotum, and interlaced them as though
starting to tie a shoelace.  I started pulling the ends, finally getting a grunt
from his lips as his ball sack and the dildo drew closer together.

	I could imagine he was feeling acute pain in both his asshole and balls,
and he was straining mightily by the time the cords were tied off with his
testicles mashed back against the dildo.

	He suffered for a long time.  Starting with sharp vertical blows to his
nipples, I soon switched to lashing slowly up and down the bottom side of his
ten inch cock.  Because his balls were stretched back near his asshole, I took
special delight in snapping the tip of the crop against the root of his cock and
the scrotal skin that showed above the thong.

	I was in a state of terrific arousal and could have enjoyed another hour
of torturing his cock, but mindful of the audience, I dropped the whip and
released the cords.  Fondling his sore balls in one hand, I jacked his rigid
pole with the other, then went down to take him deep in my mouth.

	It took only moments for me to feel his orgasm building.  I let go of
his balls, and as I continued on his cock with my hand and mouth, I reached back
and twisted the dildo, pulling hard to slide it out of his ass.  He gasped and
started moaning as the dildo came grinding out.  Feeling his contractions
starting, I pulled my head away to give the audience a fireworks display.  For
an older guy, he put on one hell of a performance, shooting his first semen
clear off the stage.  I jacked him of hard until the last oozing discharge ran
down to my hand.

	Chapter 18

	I cleaned his flagging cock with my mouth, beginning to enjoy the salty
taste.  Then we put on our robes and he led me up the isle, our passing greeted
by loud applause.  Even when we were through the doors he kept his arm in mine,
and I began to hope he was planning a night of private action.  He said nothing,
so I kept quiet as well.

	In a few minutes we were in a magnificent suite, showering in separate
baths, mine with a bidet which I used.  With a fresh terry robe, I rejoined him
in a large sitting room with drinks waiting beside two chairs.  For the first
time he was not wearing the mask.  The rest of his face was as handsome as his
mouth and chin suggested.  He had a high, distinguished forehead, heavy brows
above wide set, bright green eyes, high cheek bones and a long, straight nose.

	

	When we were seated with cold drinks in hand, he said, "Jan, you are
simply wonderful.  My hat, if I had one, would be off to you.  I am especially
delighted because you have proved a pet theory of mine, but we will get to that
later.

	"First, we are interested in hiring you for a position on our staff, at
a starting salary of one hundred fifty thousand per year, plus medical, one
month vacation, and a retirement package that will enable you to live in comfort
at forty."

	My eyes flew open and my pussy clenched tight with excitement.  It felt
like I'd won the lottery, but before I could respond he said, "Wait, don't give
me your answer yet.  There is something critical you must know and consider
first.

	"I know a great deal about you, Jan.  Have you stopped to wonder who
your anonymous friend was that brought you to our attention was, or why your fee
was so low?"

	Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "Your mother led you to
believe you were fathered by an unknown rapist who was never caught.  She did
her best to convince you that all men were beasts just like the one who
impregnated her.  But, Jan, she never once told you the truth."

	I interrupted him, shaking my head, "Lord knows I don't have many good
memories of my mother, especially now, but I can't believe she lied about such a
thing.  Why do you say she was lying?"

	He gave me a tender look and whispered, "Because I was there when you
were conceived.  Look at the color of my eyes."

	I realized looking into his eyes that I had never seen eyes of quite the
same shade green, except when looking at myself in a mirror.  I came to the edge
of my chair, anger mixing with other emotions, and I said, "You, . . you're my
father. . . You're the rapist who ruined her life . . and mine too."

	My mind was spinning out of control.  Here was the most hated person in
the world, and a person I knew I'd never see.  How many times had I fantasized
about what I'd like to do with that man if given the chance.  And here he sat,
looking back at me with love in those familiar eyes.

	In a pleading voice he said, "Please hear me out, "Your mother and I
were high school sweethearts.  I was a free spirit from a loving and wildly open
family.  She had puritanical parents with the most repressive attitudes
imaginable.  Her parents tried to keep us apart, but she defied them for the
first time in her life.

	

	"We met on the sly, and she was willing, even aggressive about sex.  She
said that if she was going to break loose it might a well be all the way.  Now I
don't deny that I was already experienced sexually.  Like I said, I came from an
open family.  So I guess I should have recognized the warning signs, like her
inability to engage in even heavy petting without being hurt, as though she were
punishing herself for doing something bad.  She would make me hurt her nipples
before she could allow fondling.

	"When we moved on to intercourse, she insisted that before I could put
it in her, I had to pin her down and slap her breasts, telling me when I wanted
to quit that it was not enough, to keep hitting her.

	"And then one Sunday afternoon, we were together and I decided to try
something new.  The way she insisted on being hurt, I thought she'd really turn
on to taking it in the ass.  When I shoved my cock inside it was like I had
opened a door to the asylum and let out a lunatic.

	"I was suddenly laying on top of her mother is the best way to describe
it.  Everything that happened up to that point became twisted in her mind.  She
suddenly saw herself as the innocent victim of the sexual predator her mother
believed all men to be.  Sound familiar?

	"I spoke to her only once after that afternoon.  She called me, told me
she was pregnant, then threatened to charge me with rape if I ever tried to be
in your life.  Before you ask, I honored her wishes, not because of any great
fear of prosecution, but because I cared for her (she looked a lot like you
then).  I knew that, win or lose, everyone would be damaged in a legal dispute,
and to be honest, I was young and wrapped up in starting to acquire my fortune. 
It wasn't until I grew older that I realized how important you were to me, and
by then it was too late to force myself into your life.

	"But I watched you from afar.  Actually, spied on you is a better word. 
With unlimited funds you'd be surprised what you can learn about people.  I
learned that you were seeking therapy, that you were unhappy being your mother's
clone.  Since it was no idle chance that prompted me to found this clinic, and
since I believe in our methods, I decided to offer you the chance to do what
your mother tried to do, only she was trying without professional assistance.

	"You see, in an afternoon, your mother surrendered the inner child she
yearned to become, and became instead her inner parent.   You have, thanks in
part to our help, shed the mantle of your inner parent, and blossomed as a
spectacular inner child."

	I was deeply shaken, trying desperately to sort out my thoughts.  I
expressed one that was troubling me, "If you are such a concerned father, how
could you do those things with me tonight?"

	"There were several reasons.  I was aware of your amazing progress, but
I was unwilling to have you hear the truth without confirming the others'
opinion first hand, so to speak.  After all, it was me, and of course, you, who
stood to be hurt if you were not truly ready.  Had I decided you were not, you
would simply have gone home, never knowing that it was you father's cock you
sucked."

	I blushed.  He laughed and said, "Besides, you are a beautiful woman,
just like your mother was, and I simply wanted to do it with you.  After all,
you inherited your lust from me."

	

	I said, "Well, I can't argue can I, after all you're the founder.  I
just wish this had happened years ago.  All those years under mother's
craziness, what a waste."

	"You should be grateful to her memory, for the severity of her
repressive behavior may well have been a necessary prerequisite of your profound
awakening.  I believe there is a law of physics that says 'an action will be met
with an equal and opposite reaction.'  Your liberation owes it magnitude to the
magnitude of her repression."

	Now I smiled.  Slowly undoing my bath robe, I pulled it apart and slid
down in my chair to open my thighs and display my cunt.  Cupping a breast with
one hand and fingering my clit with the other, I looked at him and said, "Before
I crawl over their to see what it's like my daddy's cock in all my holes, I have
a question.  Just what was this pet theory of yours that you said I proved?"

	As I got down naked and started crawling he was pulling his own robe
apart.  He said, "That you're a 'chip off the old block,' even though you never
saw me before tonight."  I stopped and cocked my head like an inquisitive dog,
not sure what he meant.

	He laughed at my pose and added, "That heredity will win out over
environment, given just a little help.  As far as I'm concerned you set to rest
the nature versus nurture argument."

	END

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