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Collected by Djian

Whip Cult





Foreword

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



Chapter 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He might have been a college professor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



Chapter 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Pardon me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eleanore felt her heart beating very quickly, very nervously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



Chapter 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nodded her head and was silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



Chapter 4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



Chapter 5

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And what's gonna happen to you for inviting me over here to seduce me?"

"I told you that my father doesn't interfere with my life anymore. Re knows he can't
control me." The girl was very proud of that point and she almost laughed the
words.

"But, he can ruin everything I worked for all my life if you decide to say so."

As Barney said that he grasped onto the girl's wrists and held them. She felt the
iron of his grip and realized that she had made a mistake. "Hey, I wouldn't actually
do that. I mean, I wouldn't really, honestly report you to my father for anything. I
wouldn't."

"Oh, wouldn't you? I don't happen to believe that little lie. You're the kind of
bitch who's never had to work for anything in her life and so you don't worry about
anyone else in the world. You don't consider anyone else's feelings and you don't
care about them."

She fell to her knees because of the way he was gripping her wrists. "Stop it. I
order you to stop it."

"You're used to ordering people around, aren't you, Pamela? That's what you do to
all your servants and that's even the way you treat your daddy. But, I am one man
who's stopped taking orders as of right now."

"Please. Don't hurt me. You're hurting me. You're pulling on my wrists."

"That's hurting you, girl? That? This little bit of pulling that I'm doing and
you're telling me that you're in pain. Hah! Yu don't know what pain is. You're used
to your comfortable little world. You don't have to worry about a damn thing because
your daddy will take care of it."

She was really terrified now. The black stud was rambling on and really in a rage.

"I'm gonna show you what it is to be hurting," he snapped as he pulled her toward
the sleek sofa. He tossed the girl over his knees and then pushed her negligee up.

She knew immediately what he was going to do. She was struggling against him.

But he raised one hand up in the air and slammed it down across the bare cheeks of
her ass. He saw the cheeks glisten bright red and then he saw the girl clenching her
cheeks together.

"No-o-o-o-o!" she screamed. "Don't you dare. Don't you spank me."

He slapped her ass two more times in quick succession and she yelled even louder.

"You were never spanked in your whole damn life, were you, bitch?"

"Don't you talk that way to me!" she howled, tears streaming down her cheeks.

But he kept on holding here there on his lap. "You were used to" always getting any
damn thing you ever wanted and you were used to always, having your own way with
everything. I can't believe that there wasn't even one incident in all the time you
were growing up that didn't deserve a good, strong spanking and punishment. So, this
is the spanking."

And his large, hammy hand kept on slamming across the cheeks of her ass. She was
clenching her smooth muscular ass cheeks together and that was making the path even
worse "Please," she whimpered.

"Please, what? You're going to get me out of a job, out on the streets. You're going
to ruin everything I worked for simply because I wouldn't be your puppet, didn't
want to be your stud, your dildo for your whims and pleasures. Well, honey, if
you're ready to do that to me, then I think I ought to give you something to really
hold against me."

He kept on spanking her ass, aware more and more that the sensually curved white
flesh was warm to the touch. The girl was aware of the thick cock that was sticking
up right against her flesh. She could feel it through the pants that the black man
was wearing.

And she was also aware of a strange longing in her body. She had traveled around the
world always looking for kicks and new pleasures. But, no man had ever mastered her,
no man had ever even tried to conquer her. This was something new for Pamela and it
was something that was making her pussy ooze and drool as it had never done before.

She felt susceptible. She felt vulnerable. She was being overpowered and was no
longer in control of the situation in spite of the fact that she had worked so hard
to take control of all situations in her life. Somehow it was the same fearful
feeling that she knew from riding roller coasters or driving a car too fast along
mountain roads.

It was taking a risk with her body. But she was filled up with excitement, burning
up with excitement. The black stud was smacking her ass until the cheeks were numb
and his hand was tingling. Then he rolled the girl off his lap and she rolled onto
the floor.

Her ass cheeks had been well abused already and when they hit the carpet on the
floor she shuddered all over because of the way the nerve endings, raw from the
spanking, had been scraped by the new surface. Then she looked up at the man who was
leaning over her.

"Now, let me see, what else shall I do to you to teach you some manners, bitch?"

She didn't even dare move. The man was in charge. He was dominating her.

There was one voice in her head that was telling her to get up and rush out of the
apartment, to run away from the man and shout for help. But there was another voice
that was keeping her just where she was. She was looking up at him and feeling a
strange sort of dread that was mixed with sensual excitement. It was a dread that
seemed most alive inside the wails of her delicate pussy. It was a dread that
communicated, through her eyes, as sexual excitement.

He stroked the erection that was pressing inside his pants. It was quite large.

"I'm not the first black-man you ever had?" he asked, almost as a statement.

She shook her head and said, "Otis ... my father's driver...

"And he was willing to put up with your shit, girl? He was willing to take abuse
from you?"

She swallowed hard and looked away from Barney's eyes. But he grabbed her blonde
hair and snarled, "I want you to know that I ain't playin' games. I mean what I'm
tellin' you, bitch. When I ask you a question I want you to answer that question.
Understand?"

"Yes ... Yes, sir ... " she said, realizing that she had been placed in a totally
subservient position and that the man was only just beginning his domination of
her.



Chapter 6

Barney lifted Pamela up and snarled, "Where the fuck is the bedroom?"

She pointed weakly toward a hallway and he carried her toward the bedroom. "Okay,
bitch. Now I'm gonna teach you your lessons." He tossed her down on the bed and
ripped off her negligee so that she was naked.

Then he pulled her hands up over her head. There was a brass headboard. He used the
tattered pieces of the negligee to tie her hands together and to tie them to the
headboard.

She struggled but realized that she was completely under his control. Then he pulled
both of her legs up in the air and he pulled her ankles through the cross-bars, of
the headboard.

Holding her in place with one hand, he loosened his tie with the other. He was still
wearing the same clothes he had worn to the, office that day. He used the tie to
bind her right ankle to the headboard. Then he grabbed a pair of the girl's
pantyhose from the chair right at the side of the bed. He quickly tied the sheer
cloth around her left ankle and then tied that to the bed.

So, when he was finished with the girl, he had managed to-get her bound up. Her
hands were up over her head and her legs were up in the air, over her head. Her ass
was jutting out toward him.

"Now I can really give you a spanking you're gonna remember," he said as he slid his
leather belt out of the loops of his pants.

Her eyes widened with fear as she saw the leather strap that was going to threaten
the delicate, cheeks of her bottom. She actually started to quiver when he doubled
it over in his hand.

Barney was holding onto the buckle and the end of the belt in one hand so that there
was a loop made out of the rest of the belt. He slapped that doubled over portion
against, his open palm a number of times. Then he raised the belt up and slammed it
across the cheeks-of her ass.

She clenched her ass cheeks together and screamed out when she felt that happening.

Barney looked up and realized that there were mirrors on her ceiling. How
convenient. He could watch her writhing and struggling and tensing up from all
angles then.

He pulled off his shirt and slapped her ass with the hot leather once more.

Although there was a generally reddish glow all over the cheeks of her ass from the
spanking he had given her by band in the other room, now that he was using the belt
on her he was leaving bright red lines across the cheeks of her bottom.

He slapped the belt across the cheeks once again and there was yet another stripe
left there. This third stripe had cut across the other two. Now the girl really knew
that she was in pain.

And he was able to leave her like that for a moment so that she could contemplate
her fate while lie stripped naked. His hard dick was standing up in front of him,
threatening her.

"I'm gonna do a little bit of exploring around this apartment," he said with a smile.

"Take whatever you want. I don't care. Steal anything you like, you ... "

He slapped her bard across the face and hissed, "I never stole anything in my life,
bitch."

Then he left the room. She struggled to pull free, but she could not. It was a full
ten minutes before he returned to the room and when he did he was carrying a
cucumber that he had gotten cold from the kitchen.

In his other hand was a can of cooking grease. He sat on the bed and toyed with
those items. "Now, what was it that you were saying to me about ruining me in the
company ad seeing to it that I would never get another decent job again as long as I
lived?"

"I ... I didn't say anything like ... uh, that ... B-Barney."

"You're a shitty liar. Look, bitch, I can't keep you tied up like this for the next
forty years so as far as I'm concerned there's only one attitude I can take and
survive. I have to just figure that when you get out of these bonds you're gonna
call your daddy and go crying to him. So, Pamela, I might as well have as much fun
as I want."

Then he pressed the tip of the cucumber against her cunt lips and opened the lips
with his fingers so that they were wrapped around the hard, cold, green surface. He
pushed forward.

"Oh," she gasped. "Wh-why d-don't you use your own dick."

She was looking right at his cock and she could see that it was stiff as an
iron-poker. He just smiled and said, "Shut the fuck up, slut... I don't stick my
dick in holes that were used too often."

Then he pushed forward with the cucumber and she felt her inner labia spreading
apart around the viciously invading vegetable. He opened the can of cooking grease
then and he lathered a little bit of it around the next bit of the cucumber, the
thicker part.

And then he started to slide it forward, to move it stealthily into her body.

Even as he was doing that, spreading open the delicate pussy lips and the flesh in
the depths of her hole, he lathered some of the cooking grease around the head and
the great length of his own cock. Then he pushed forward on the cucumber as he
positioned his dick right at her ass hole. Everything in the girl's body tensed up
at that instant.

"No. Not that way. No man ever did that to me. I don't want it. I don't."

"And you're used to only getting what you want, aren't you, bitch?"

He pushed forward with the head of his cock and left a little bit of the cooking
grease right around the clinging opening of the anus. Then he pushed again and his
cock head managed to push forward so that the flared head was lodged inside the
sphincter.

The girl cried out and Barney groaned because he felt the clinging flesh that was
wrapped around the flared head of his cock, gripping him right behind the head at
the most sensitive spot.

He started to push his cock head to one side and then to the other. Then he finally
started to push forward. He was sliding into her body and he could feel the tension
that was fighting against him. "Listen, bitch," he said, slapping her right across
the spot where he had lashed her ass with the leather. "I'm gonna get inside that
hole whether you like it or not. If you relax and take it you might even enjoy it,
although I don't give a damn whether you do or not. But if you don't relax then I'll
rip you to shreds."

Just as he finished saying that he slid forward with one powerful thrust of his
hips. He pushed the full length of his cock all the way into the hot hole. He could
feel the moisture that surrounded the length of his cock and he pulled back and
pushed forward time after time.

He soon felt the difference in the girl's body. He could tell that she was responding.

Each time he pushed into her and she felt the length of the stiff cock filling up
her ass hole she tensed up in response. But then when he pulled out of her hole and
she felt the tingling sensation as the flared head of his cock rubbed back against
her delicate flesh, she shivered and responded to him.

As he was working his dick in and out of her ass hole, he was pulling the cucumber
around and around and in and out of her pussy. He was massaging her clitoris with
the thick, hard vegetable.

His cock was pulling back against her sphincter and then it was slamming against the
depths of her body, time after time. Meanwhile he was pushing and pulling on the
green thing and that was certainly massaging her cunt and creating more and more
liquid in the hole.

Pamela really was going wild. Up until then she really had always been in charge
when she had sex with anyone. She really had always been in control of what would
happen when.

She was a spoiled girl and when she told a man that she had-had enough fucking she
expected him to pull out of her whether he was satisfied or not. Strangely enough
the word that would best describe her attitude was 'macho' the word that some men
used to justify inconsiderate behavior. The honest word was merely 'inconsiderate'
thoughtlessly ignoring the needs and wants of her sex partner. But now it was her
needs and wants that were ignored.

And yet, she was finding that losing control over the situation could be erotic.

As the cucumber worked in and out and in and out of her hot pussy she knew that she
was getting closer to an orgasm. The movement of the cock inside her ass hole was
rubbing against the tender flesh there and was massaging against the nerve endings
all around the hole.

There was excitement that was rushing up her spine and back down to her pussy.

And then, suddenly, even before the girl expected it, she felt her cunt wails
collapsing around the cucumber. Barney, who was holding onto the cold vegetable,
could feel the way the girl's pussy was gripping it tightly. Then he felt the
pulling around his own cock.

As soon as her cunt walls collapsed around the cucumber her anal opening collapsed
around his dick and seemed to be sucking the juice right out of his thick prong.

He started to cum. How strange it was that he had taken such complete control of the
situation and yet it was the natural response of Pamela's body that had forced him
to cum before he actually wanted to. Perhaps that merely proved that, in spite of
ropes and bonds and sexual domination, there is no such thing as a person taking
complete, full control of the sexual relations he will share with another. The body,
the natural juices, the sexual responses, the fantasies, will all stay in control no
matter how determined one might be to subdue them.

Slowly, Barney started to work his dick out of her ass hole. He had been sucked dry
by the undulating movement of the anal opening. When be pulled out of her, he
started to pull on the cucumber. It was a little mushy and warm where her clinging
cunt flesh had clasped onto it. It was covered with cunt juice and some of that
juice had seeped into the vegetable.

He held the cucumber up to the girl's lips and hissed, "Lick it off."

"I ... I don't like cucumber ... " she said in a very weak whisper.

"And I don't care what you like and what you don't like. Now lick it off."

Slowly, knowing that she was bound to the bed and would not be untied until he chose
to do so, the girl worked her tongue over the surface of the warm cucumber. She
tasted her own cunt juice for the first time. Her body seemed to be heating up all
over again.

"Damn you," he mumbled. Then he tossed the vegetable down and got into position
right over her face with his filthy dick dangling close to her lips. She looked up
and knew what he wanted.

She tried to turn her face away, but he grabbed her soft blonde hair with his
powerful black fingers. He tugged on the hair as he snarled, "Take it in your mouth
if you ever want to be untied from this bed."

It was a threat, really an idle threat. He couldn't keep her there forever. She knew
she had been able to sense, that he was not going to do anything really desperate to
her. She sensed that he wouldn't take her life or do permanent damage to her, and
that was the bottom line.

It was at this point, somewhat revolted by his demand, that she knew she could, if
she really wanted to, fight him off on this point. She could manage to keep her
mouth from being violated by his filthy dick. And yet, there was a longing inside of
her.

The orgasm she had experienced while she was tied up had been the greatest of her
sexual life. Pamela had thought that finding the perfect orgasm involved taking
complete control over her sex life. She now realized that she could move closer
toward perfection simply by losing herself in the sex act, by giving herself over to
it, by becoming enslaved to it.

And so her lips parted and the filthy head of the cock slid between them. Soon, the
black dick was pumping in and out of her mouth. She couldn't take the full length of
it in her throat no matter what. It was slamming against the depths of her throat
and spreading apart the muscles in the back of her throat. She gagged each time that
happened.

Each time she gagged the cock was pushed back out of her mouth and that would cause
the sensitive flesh under the cock head to be rubbed along the girl's tongue. That
would send a tingling sensation up the girl's spine and a tingling through the man's
balls.

He was holding onto her hair as he pumped up and down in her mouth. His dick had
been cleaned off and now he was just pumping away as he liked. But suddenly he
pulled out of her throat.

His cock was as hard as a metal spike. He mounted her and she was prepared to feel
the intrusion of his cock inside her ass hole again. But this time she felt the cock
head right up against the lips of her pussy. She was lubricated with cunt cream and
cucumber juice.

He was able to push the flared head of his dick right into the hot opening of the
cunt. Then he pressed forward and slid directly, his stiffness holding fast as he
pressed against the depths of hr body.

Then he pulled his dick back a little bit and pushed forward again. He was working
his cock in and out and in and out of the hot hole. He slammed against the deepest
depths of the cunt and then he pulled all the way back until the flared bead of his
cock was pulling right up against the clitoris. The clit tingled with excitement.

Immediately, Pamela was on the verge of another orgasm. She was hot, very hot.

The big black cock slammed all the way into her, pushing against the depths of her
body with the fist-like head of it. Then it pulled all the way back against the
clitoris again.

He pushed forward and then pulled back. It was a continual movement of his dick
inside her.

They were both right on the verge and holding back. Holding back until they couldn't
hold back any longer.

"Araarghhh!" she cried out as her cunt walls pulled taut.

His dick slammed forward, partially from the power of his hips and partially from
the suction pressure of the cunt walls around his throbber. They were locked
together in a moment of orgasmic lust.

Just when she thought that she was going to finish cumming, she felt the pulsating
cock slapping against the walls of her pussy and she was forced to continue the
passionate sensations in her body.

And as for him, he kept being tugged by the pussy flesh and that made his orgasm
continue.

They were both completely worn out, completely drained, when he pulled out of her.

Once he pulled out of her there was a heaviness about his attitude. He started to
untie her from the bed. He didn't say anything to her as he did that. She was
massaging her wrists and her ankles, to try to get the circulation back in them once
again.

Then he turned to the side of the bed and started to gather up his clothes.

When Pamela saw what he was doing, she quickly said, "Don't you want to take a
shower?"

He turned to look at her, surprised by the generosity of the offer since he had just
been her captor. "Yes. I would like that," he said, glancing at her from the side of
his eye.

Then he stood up and turned to her as he asked, "The bathroom through here."

"I'll run it for you," she said. She had taken on the tone of a polite hostess.

Barney was confused, unsure of how she was responding to him and to the things that
had just happened between them. She was running the water of the shower for him when
she turned in his direction and smiled, strangely, at the handsome, naked black
man.

"You're not tied to the bed now, Pamela. You can do whatever you want to do."

"I'm doing what I want to do," she said, almost reverting to her old tone of voice,
snotty, superior, sure. But then she became kittenish again as she continued, "May I
come into the shower with you and wash your back for you?"

"I give you permission for that," he said, nodding his head as he stepped into the
tub shower She stepped in right behind him and started to lather up the soap on his
back. Then he turned around, his arms still at his sides, and she lathered his
powerfully defined chest.

"You'd better watch out," he said, as she started to lather the soap along his
stiffening dick. 'If you get it hard again I might just have to toss you down right
here and rape the hell out of you again, bitch."

"Oh, sir. Yes, sir," she said as her fingers started to work even faster along the
stiffness of his prick. It was standing up in her fingers in less than another
minute.

He knew what he wanted and now she knew what she wanted. She had been forced to
discover it, to admit it. And now that she bad discovered it for herself, this new
option of being dominated, she knew that she loved it.



The End

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