Divorce Therapy

The Solicitors office held the whole of the upper floor of an impressive Georgian building in the classy part of town: by the time I had reached the top storey I decided that I really did need to work out more. I found myself in a swish reception area and seated behind a large desk was a beautiful woman in her mid thirties, typical secretary type with glasses and her hair swept back neatly in a pony tail. What was unusual, however, was the cut of her blouse; she was exposing a very pleasing amount of cleavage.

"Good afternoon, Sir, you must be Mr Denham, Mr Thomas is expecting you" she smiled and indicated a very comfortable sofa "Please take a seat, I will inform Mr Thomas you are here" She came out from behind the desk and I was glad to see she had a fine pair of legs, the short black skirt she was wearing barely covered her stocking tops and, despite the six inch heels, she seemed to have no trouble walking gracefully towards an impressive mahogany panelled door. She knocked tentatively and receiving a barking response, entered the room. After a muted conversation she returned to collect me.

"Mr Thomas will see you now, Sir, if you would follow me" I enjoyed the short walk behind her: catching a glimpse of her stocking tops with every step and the swish of her ponytail as her long glossy hair swung left and right, she really was a very sexy woman.

The office I was admitted to was outstanding, a large mahogany desk dominated the room with three of the walls were made up of bookcases and cupboards which gave the impression of a panelled study. Seated behind the desk was a man in his early forties, you could have described him as a Bruce Willis with a full head of hair. He leaned forward across the vast expanse of desk and offered me his hand.

"Mr Denham, Serge Thomas, nice to meet you" His eyes were deep pools, unreadable, but the smile on his face was full of bonhomie. "Take a seat" he indicated a large leather chair, as I felt myself sink into it I was reminded of a Gentleman's Club rather than a Solicitor's Office. I was beginning to feel nervous, this guy was going to cost me a fortune, but I had been given several personal recommendations, he was the best.

"I understand your wife has run off with her lover, the best man at your wedding less than five years ago, and you are here to make sure she doesn't get a penny of your company's assets, am I correct?" He summed up in that short sentence the reason for my visit, yet it did nothing to describe my feelings of anger and sheer hatred that coursed through my veins during the two days since my discovery.

"That's correct"

"Would you care for refreshments while we go through the paperwork you sent me?" I nodded, "Tea, Coffee or something stronger?" As it was only three in the afternoon I decided on Tea. He flicked a switch on his desk "Get me two teas". I was surprised at the change in his tone, the order was barked with no pre-amble or please, the disbelief must have shown in my face because he leant back and smiled. "Oh Mr Denham, I think there is a lot more I can do for you than just handle your divorce, you need to know how to really treat women" My mouth fell open, clearly political correctness had never entered this office.

There was a gentle tap on the door and once again I was treated to the lovely sight of the secretary, she took two steps into the room and gave a small curtsey to Mr Thomas, despite the fact she was carrying a tray of tea she managed not to spill a drop.

"Excuse me Sir, would you like me to serve the tea now, Sir?" I noticed that although she was addressing the man behind the desk her eyes stayed on the floor her tone was reverential as if she was a turn of the century parlour maid.

"Get on with it, bitch!" I was completely shocked and expected the secretary to give him a mouthful (I know my secretary would if I asked her to get me a cup of water let alone call her a bitch).

Mr Thomas smiled at me "Let me tell you a little bit about my secretary, since you appear to be so concerned for her welfare" he was smiling yet the eyes still remained black unfathomable pools. "She is the property of a good friend of mine, his slave so to speak. Have you heard of BDSM?" My mind was racing; I had heard of it but never met anyone who openly admitted to the practice. I must have nodded because he continued "Well, she is his property, I pay him well for her services and help him out by ensuring she gets all the attention she deserves. In fact you may be interested in a sideline of my business, it is called Divorce Therapy." By now we had each received a cup of tea from the slave secretary, who had silently made her way out of the office while Mr Thomas continued to discuss her like a piece of furniture he owned. "Divorce Therapy is used to help you with all the anger you have towards women at the moment, in my experience divorce seems to bring out passion in the most gentle of people. Let's finish up the initial paperwork phase of your divorce and then perhaps I can give you a free session of Divorce Therapy to see if you would like the service" We continued with the finer points of the divorce over the course of the next hour, where I had to list all my wife's indiscretions ending with my discovery of her and my best friend fucking in my bed. After the hour was up I was feeling extremely angry and very open to the "Therapy" Mr Thomas offered.

He stood up, walked across the room and opened a door which I had not noticed before as it was once again mahogany and blended into the background. I followed his lead and entered the most extraordinary room I had ever seen in real life. It was a dungeon; the four walls were a rich deep red colour, the floor covered with marble tiles, and the tall ceiling a vast blackness. In one corner of the room was a large seat with straps making it look similar to an electric chair. Along one wall hung a long line of whips, floggers, canes and crops, followed by bars with cuffs at each end. There was a sort of bench in the middle topped off with deep red leather, which had straps hanging off at various points. Along another wall were various rings and hooks alongside a large throne like chair, finally in the corner behind the door where we had entered was the slave secretary, totally naked now facing into the corner, her hands on her head and her magnificent long legs spayed apart.

"Now, Mr Denham, we come to the Therapy stage of your divorce proceedings. Your wife has behaved abominably and it is my opinion that she should be punished severely for treating you with such disrespect. Since we cannot drag her in here to face her punishment we have our little slave here to stand in for her. So, Mr Denham, you are going to wreak your revenge on that little wife of yours by beating her butt until she pleads with you for mercy; which you may or may not give as you see fit." I was completely and utterly filled with fury after discussing the raw details of my wife's infidelity and faced with such a beautiful bottom I grasped the opportunity with both hands.

I walked forward and addressed the slave "I wonder if you wouldn't mind moving to the bench in the middle please" to my disappointment the secretary did not move, and Mr Thomas began to laugh.

"Mr Denham, she is a bitch, a slut, nothing more than a whore, you don't ask her to do anything you tell her – here let me show you" and with that he raised his voice and shouted "Get on the bench you slut!" to which the secretary immediately positioned herself without hesitation. With quick efficiency he strapped the naked woman down availing himself of the cuffs and finally using a blindfold of soft velvet tied around the woman's head. There followed a brief introduction of all the implements hanging from the wall, he demonstrated the wrist action for the flogger, cane and paddle while his victim lay impassive.

Eventually the moment came when I held a crop in my hand and I approached the bare lily white bottom and struck a blow. There was a resounding slap, not as loud as created by Mr Thomas's demonstration; but a satisfying noise nevertheless. It was with some glee I saw the appearance of an angry red stripe across the white canvas, and, encouraged by Mr Thomas's smile, I proceeded with another, then another until gradually I felt the force of my anger travel down my arm and give strength to the blows, the white soft skin changed to red in no time and eventually I found I had to stop because my arm was beginning to ache.

"Well done Mr Denham, a very pleasing start. Now let me see if I can find an implement that will inflict pain without the need of such an effort on your part" he went to a small chest of drawers and opened the first drawer, I could hear the tinkle of metal and he brought me a chain with what looked like alligator clips on each end. "These are nipple clamps, but they can be used on any area of skin that you fancy, our little slave here has some lovely pussy lips that are exposed and ready for your attention" I smiled, I was just beginning to enjoy myself. I pinched each side of the slave's pussy and attached the alligator clamps letting the chain fall, it did look quite pretty; especially as the slave had a nice hairless pussy. Mr Thomas then provided me with a selection of weights, they were beautifully crafted silver balls, with small hooks that you could clip onto a ring in the centre of the chain, it was with a great deal of pleasure I watched the lips thin and stretch to accommodate the increasing weight placed upon them, until I had run out of weights. Mr Thomas undid the straps securing the slave and ordered her to stand before me, she moved carefully, and I watched with great satisfaction as the balls swung stretching the lips even further. The slave stood as asked, with her legs slightly parted in order to allow the balls to swing freely. As she was blindfolded, I felt able to feast my eyes on her upturned breasts; they were well rounded with little pink areole and small pink nubs for nipples. As if he read my mind, Mr Thomas announced the need to give her tits some attention, while holding another device in his hand. I can only describe it as two pieces of wood, around half a meter in length, with a large treaded screw at each end, along the facing sides of the wood were a large number of metal bottle tops, these were arranged so that they would meet similar to teeth when the two pieces of wood were screwed together – it struck me as an impressive well thought out piece of equipment. With experienced dexterity Mr Thomas pulled the slave's breasts through the opening of the wood and methodically turned the butterfly screws down so that the breasts were caught between the metal teeth, I was amazed at how much the tits were squeezed, the bottle caps were barely and inch apart, the flesh oozed out from the tit bar, a vivid shade of purple. There was some moaning emanating from the slave, but that was silenced by a brutal crack across the buttocks with a long cane, the force made the balls swing wildly forcing her pussy lips to be brutally pulled and I began to feel my dick rise in arousal. Mr Thomas deftly raised the slave's arms and secured them to one of the many rings in the ceiling, and then announced that he would warm the bitch up for me. I watched a true Master at work as he used the flogger to whip the slave from the backs of her knees to her neckline so that she was a glowing red colour all over. He even used a thin strap to catch the ends of her nipples, making her gasp.

After admiring the marks on the slave for a little while, Mr Thomas then handed me a large church candle that had been burning brightly in one corner, there was a large well of liquid wax and after seeing him pour wax over the slave's heated ass I decided to go to work on her squashed tits. The effect was amazing; I found that if I dripped the wax close to her nipple the pain would send the slave jumping slightly, which in turn made the balls from her lips swing – I felt my anger slowly dissipating, the "therapy" was doing its good work.

Then Mr Thomas began to play with the girl's pussy, despite the stretched pussy lips it was not long before I saw the swollen clit peeping through its hood; he toyed with it a little more then suddenly stood back and brought the flogger down on the enlarged clit. She jumped in her bonds, the balls swung mercilessly and the tit bar juggled provocatively. I was completely mesmerised as he repeated the procedure several times over. He would tease her clit, despite the slave knowing what was to come; she could not help but be turned on by his attentions. I noticed that after each blow the clit seemed to increase in size – clearly this woman was a true masochist. After the seventh blow he stood back allowing the slave a moment of composure, her pussy was red and puffy. "Now, Mr Denham, I think this slave is ready to give you some attention and make some amends for her disgraceful behaviour." As he spoke he began to unfasten the slave's arms and remove the blindfold. When released, she immediately sunk down on her knees before me.

"Please Sir, I beg your forgiveness, I will do anything you ask to recompense" her tone was genuinely remorseful. She began to lick my shoes, savouring the leather as if it were an ice- cream rather than mud spattered brogues I barely took time to polish.

"So Mr Denham, are you enjoying yourself?" Mr Thomas enquired, forcing me to raise my gaze from the squirming slave to meet his dark expressionless eyes "Would you like this slut to give you some relief?" the question was an invitation I could not pass up, at my nod and with quick efficiency, the slave had released my member and began to suck my dick with vigour, taking it so deep I could feel her throat teasing the end of my dick, until she needed to gasp for air. I began to toy with her tortured nipples, pinching and twisting to my satisfaction. After a few minutes had passed I decided that I did not want to cum just yet, I was having too much fun. I was beginning to enjoy this therapy!

I looked down at the bobbing head and it seemed all at once it was my wife kneeling, sucking my cock and with the rage building once again I pushed her down with some force so that she fell to the floor. I swiftly removed my clothes and pulled her up onto her knees once again by her hair.

"You little fucking whore" I shouted the words, "you aren't even worthy of sucking my cock, you bitch, you are going to lick my ass and tell me how sorry you are" I turned round bending over the arm of the chair. I felt her hands part my ass cheeks and her soft tongue caress my ass. All the time she was telling me how sorry she was, what a whore she was and how she wanted to make amends.

"Say it with your tongue in my ass, slut!" I shouted she immediately complied, I enjoyed the feeling of humiliating this bitch; her speech was mumbled by the tongue placed in my shit hole, as she begged forgiveness again and again. The tonguing was giving me a rock hard dick and I wanted to relieve the pressure. I stood up, turned round and grabbed her once again by the hair and dragged her over the arm I had just been resting on, ignoring her cries as the balls swung wildly. I pushed my dick forcefully inside her ass, I wasn't interested in her pleasure; she was there to service me. Sadly it wasn't long – just a few minutes in that tight ass before I was pumping her full of cum. I lay across her back for a few moments, my anger now spent, she lay motionless beneath me.

"Well, I am extremely pleased with your first Therapy session, Mr Denham, I will get my slave help so that you leave here refreshed" I had forgotten Mr Thomas was even there, I moved aside and allowed the bitch to struggle up from the arm of the chair: and slowly crawl like a dog over to her Master. I watched Mr Thomas remove the balls and clips from the slave's pussy. He took his time to remove each clip, gazing into the slaves eyes and savouring her gasp as the blood flow rushed back to her tortured pussy lips causing her sharp intense pain. He slowly unscrewed the tit bar, and she gasped again as the blood began to flow back to her blue nipples. She had deep red indentations where the bottle tops had bitten into her sweet soft flesh. Finally, I saw him smile softly at the naked slave knelt before him

"Well done, go and take Mr Denham through to our refreshment area and see that he leaves rejuvenated" She gracefully rose and collected my discarded clothes and, with a tilt of her head, invited me to follow her out of the Therapy Room.

I found she had led me to a wonderfully luxurious bathroom and I gladly spent the next hour being bathed by the beauty I had so happily tortured. I was certainly rejuvenated when I stepped out of the Georgian building; I decided that divorce was not all bad having booked my next appointment for the following week.

© Scarletsubmission 2004

Session 2

A week later I bounded up the stairs to the solicitors office, I had been looking forward to my therapy all week and I found I was not despondent at all about my failed marriage.

I was a little disappointed when the slave secretary was not behind her desk, but the replacement was just as delightful, wearing the same soft silk blouse baring a wonderful glimpse of tit.

The divorce proceedings took very little time fortunately as I was impatient to get to my therapy; however Mr Thomas stopped me short.

"I am afraid we have a change to our schedule of therapy this afternoon Mr Denham" I was about to protest like a truculent schoolboy but was fortunately stopped in time "We thought you may be interested to assist another client of ours, Madame DuPont, she has discovered her husband in bed with a young girl this very morning and has a great deal of therapy to get through" his smile was encouraging, and despite my petulance I found myself complying

"If you think it will help"

"We think it would give you an excellent training opportunity Mr Denham, to learn more skill in the art of discipline and Madame DuPont is a skilled artisan" he led the way along the panelled corridor to another of the secret doors.

I found myself in a small room with a one way mirror all along the wall; two comfortable chairs and refreshments were laid out in anticipation of our arrival. I could see directly down into the dungeon room where I was transfixed by the scene below.

There were three people in the dungeon: a tall woman dressed in a black leather cat suit (a magnificent figure: her beauty reminded me of Michelle Pfeiffer in the Batman films), trussed up and hanging by their wrists, were two figures (a man and a woman) tightly bound by thick rope, they were bound face to face, but so tightly I could see they were struggling to breathe deeply. The woman was circling them wielding a cat o nine tails whipping the helpless slaves for all her worth. I had to admire her stamina, as she beat their flesh until their skin looked red and glowing: a good twenty minutes of full on beating passed before Madame DuPont lowered the whip and Mr Thomas decided use the opportunity to introduce me to the Cat Suited Madame.

I had changed into leather chaps and felt at pleased to enter the dungeon. Madame DuPont was sitting on the Throne Chair when I entered, sipping at a cool glass of white wine, watching two male dungeon attendants untying the hapless couple.

I was gracefully received by Madame and invited to sit next to her while she waited for the two slaves to be prepared for their next round of punishment.

After the ropes were untied, I realised there were a few additions I hadn't fully appreciated from the observation room, the slaves were sharing a double ended dildoe in their mouths; and casual observation of the width of the dildoe made my jaw ache. The slaves arms were released, I noticed them move cautiously they had also shared another double ended dildoe in each ass, I appreciated the ingenuity of Madame, not only would each blow with the whip cut but these devices would ensure every crack would be felt internally too: Mr Denham was right I could learn from Madame DuPont.

The two dungeon assistants tied the slave's collars to rings on the floor so they were placed in a humiliating pose with their noses touching the ground and their asses exposed and pointing up invitingly. The attendants then brought a type of metal stand, about three foot in height shaped like a T they then attached a very large double ended dildoe to the post: this dildoe had ridges that graduated so that it started around 1 inch thick and ended up the size of a fist in the middle.

Madame DuPont directed each slave to one end of the dildoe and their asses were skewered to the end. She then attached a nipple clamps onto the slave girls nipples and stretched the chain so that it was attached to a ring in the floor around 1 foot away from the slave. She then tied a rope around the male slave's balls and tied it to another ring around three feet away from the slave. She then ordered the slaves to move backwards onto the widening dildoe until their cheeks touched in the middle of the huge monster. I could only sit and admire her ingenuity as each time the slave moved not only would their ass be stretched wider but the rope would pull on the nipples and balls respectively. The slaves struggled along the dildoe inch by inch, their asses stretching, the male slave's balls were going blue and the female slave's tits were just cones. As the slaves mouths were not gagged Madame DuPont grew tired of the slow progress and ordered the dungeon attendants to take out their cocks and push them down each slave's throat. I watched with satisfaction as the slave's throats bulged to accommodate the large cocks while the forceful fucking pushed them onto the widest part of the dildoe and increasing the pressure on their tits and balls, they must have been in excruciating pain, but unable to utter a word. Madame DuPont allowed the attendants at least 10 minutes of cock sucking pleasure, (although they were warned not to cum) before she relented and allowed the two slaves some respite. They were once again returned to their floor rings to await the next stage in their punishment. I couldn't help feeling that Madame DuPont was a serious woman to cross, and she must have taken it very badly when she caught her husband – she was certainly putting these two through their paces.

She ordered the female slave forward and a winch device was lowered from the ceiling. The slave girl was made to straddle a rough piece of wood (2 by 4) that had a rope at each end that was then put into a pulley and then attached to a large 10kg weight. Madame DuPont showed me how to rope a slave girl's tits by encircling each tit with rough hemp rope, this was attached to the weight finally the slaves arms were heavily tied high on her back. Once again it slowly dawned on me the subtlety of these devices.

Basically the slave had two options; the weight was pulling the rough piece of wood hard between her legs and grazing her clit red raw, if she wanted relief from this she would have to pull the weight via the rope wrapped round her tits, in other words weightlifting using her tits. I watched fascinated as the tits turned a lovely shade of blue, and the slave began to moan and murmur: this was stopped by inserting a ball gag into the slave's mouth. In order to keep the pressure off her clit the slave stood on tip-toe, (the wood still grazed her clit) but eventually her legs tired, trembled and shook so she was forced to put all her efforts in lifting the weight with her tits. She was prevented from leaning forward by the rope attached to her arms. We left the slave girl to her torture as Madame turned her attentions to the male slave.

She walked behind him and grabbed his balls twisting and pinching for all she was worth, the slave grunted but kept from crying out. She took out a large wooden paddle and proceeded to beat him until his skin was once again bright scarlet. She then ordered the dungeon assistants to bring her a large strap on dildoe. The size made me squirm; it was at least a foot long by around 10 inches in diameter. She attached the harness effortlessly and then leant over the slave. She toyed with his ass for a while, pushing it in and pulling it out slowly, I watched his face change colour so that it matched his sore ass cheeks. Eventually Madame DuPont leant back and with a violent thrust pushed the entire width into the hapless slave. He groaned and I noticed as she pulled it out it was smeared with his blood. The violent fucking continued. I was torn between watching his discomfort and watching the other slave weightlifting with her tits. This therapy had certainly taken my mind off my divorce.

After another ten minutes or so Madame grew bored with fucking the slave, with a final smack she returned to her wine on the throne. She amused herself watching the female weightlifter for a little while and then ordered the attendants to take her down. I was amazed at the difference in the slave, her flesh glistened with sweat; although she was removed from the bar, she remained tethered by her tits. She was not given any respite: Madame removed the rope from the weight and ordered the attendants to pull on the rope. What I saw I found extraordinary, the slave was gradually lifted off the floor by her tits! She swung slowly and I could hear a slight murmur behind the ball gag – it must have been incredibly painful. Still not satisfied, Madame brought out a long cane and brought it down repeatedly across the slave's blue swollen tits. I watched in fascination as the only indication from the slave that she was in pain was a slight groan and the widening of her eyes. Each blow made her swing in her bonds, and Madame would wait impatiently for the swinging to stop before striking the next blow. It seemed that the punishment went on for a long time, especially as Madame saw fit to give me instruction on the proper use of the cane. I had to ensure that each strike landed parallel and that I should ensure that the pressure was equal across both breasts or buttocks which ever took our fancy. I loved the parallel stripes that adorned the hapless slave, she began to bruise and I saw blue and purple colours amongst the red.

After the exertion I retired to a seat and drank a very cool beer. I watched as the slave girl was eventually lowered to the floor, and was not surprised at all that her legs gave way and she ended up in a heap; the rope marks were exquisite purple patterns round each breast; the slave was beginning to look quite colourful. However, it was not long before she found herself once again suspended, this time by her ankles. I had to admire once again the consideration that went into Madame's treatment, as the girl was strung up in a way that meant her legs were splayed as far apart as was possible in this position with the use of a spreader bar.

I was given instruction on how to use a crop using the slave's pussy as a target. I learnt how to flick the end so that it just caught the exposed clit, or to strike with full force at the swollen lips. All in all I found the beating arousing but, Madame became concerned that the slave was getting a little too blue in the face and allowed her to be returned to her ring in the floor.

The next item of equipment looked like the floats fishermen used for their lobster pots. They were around seven balls attached along a piece of rope; they started around 2 inches in diameter and grew in size until the last ball was around 12" in diameter. Madame once again commanded the slave girl to be unleashed and attached to a bench where her arms and legs were strapped in followed by a large belt that held her in place across the bench. The slave was ordered to pleasure one of the dungeon assistants, which meant that her throat was completely full. He would keep it pressed down the back of her throat and then slowly draw it out a little so the slave could take a breath. At the other end of the slave Madame began to slowly feed the balls into the slave's ass. The first two went in without much difficulty, (the stretching earlier must have helped) but the third ball, around 6 inches was getting a tight fit. I did not know much about anatomy but the slave had around 10 inches of balls up her ass so room had to be tight. However, Madame was a determined woman, she pushed her hand up the slave's pussy and manhandled the balls further up through the thin membrane wall, using both hands she manoeuvred the balls until only the last 12" one remained. There must have been around 24 inches of combined balls up the slave's ass and the last ball was peeking out stretching the slut's asshole wide. Madame DuPont continued to manipulate the balls a little longer and eventually decided that the slave just could not accommodate any more plastic. It was then that I noticed she was one again wearing the huge strap on.

I think her hand must have been stretching the pussy because Madame drove the big plastic cock slam into the slave's pussy without preamble (I realised the importance of the straps holding the slave in place). After several minutes of violent fucking Madame stepped back her breathing laboured. She looked up at me and asked me if I could help out. I lost no time at all. With the slave so full the sensation on my cock was amazing, it seemed strange to be fucking and looking at the dungeon attendant at the other end, the bitch was well and truly skewered. We got into some sort of rhythm, he would thrust then I would trust; each time the slave would move around five to six inches along the bench despite the straps. It was a very pleasant fuck and I was very glad to drop my load as I had been turned on since I had entered the dungeon. The attendant was, of course forbidden to cum and was ordered to get off the slave as soon as I had finished. However, Madame decided to leave the slave where she was for the moment – stuffed like a Christmas turkey with cum dripping down her legs.

The male slave's skin had returned to normal and it took Madame barely two minutes to get it rosy red again. She released him from the floor ring and I held him while she stood on his cock with her high spiky heels. It was amazing to see how much a cock to be squashed, after a while she then moved to his balls. I sensed she was getting restless and needed some relief herself; so it did not surprise me when she ordered the male slave to suck her pussy, what did surprise me was the dexterity of the slave. He managed to suck her pussy while she continued to fuck the other slave's pussy. She came loud and long, her pussy flooding the male's face, the attendants were quick to bring her a chair to recover. She lay, sated and watched the attendants amuse themselves getting the slaves to suck their cocks. They were well trained because it was a full half an hour before they spurted their cum only when ordered to by Madame.

I enjoyed my long soak as I relaxed afterwards, sharing a large spa with Madame. The slaves were very attentive and as I was washed, oiled and massaged Madame and I discussed the finer points of our therapy session. I was very grateful for her assistance and instruction and we both toasted the success of our respective divorces. After which I intended to purchase a slave of my own.

© scarlet submission 2004