Surrender And Resurrection, The Ultimate Orgasm

[Secret Keeper]

Part 1

She drove her car slowly to the apartment Raymond and John shared. She shook all over with anticipation of the weekend to come. They had been planning this now for almost five months. She couldn't help but be distracted nor could she help the shaking, so she drove slowly to be as safe as possible in traffic.

When she got to Raymond’s apartment complex she parked her late model Lexis some distance away and hid the key so she wouldn't be carrying it.

She took in her surroundings. All around her rose three level gray brick apartment buildings surrounded by parking lots and small dying trees. Many places in Baltimore look like this. On the other side of a chain link fence black and Latino children splashed joyfully in the late afternoon sun, still high in the sky.

Wearing her bright summer dress, she gave no hint of her plans. She mounted the sidewalk, running the script through her mind.

As she walked to their place she was conscious of all the things she had, one dress and two shoes, three items of clothing. She wore no panties and carried no purse. Her pedal pusher shoes were not leather.

As she walked, she passed a man and woman arguing noisily about child support and visitation. In a car next to them cowered the new girl friend and toddler in question.

A little further she passed two men. One gray headed the other her age. They talked quietly in Spanish, the older man shaking his head, 'no.'

As she stood across the street looking at the low rise apartment where Raymond and John lived, her heart pounded in her chest. It pounded so hard she could feel it shake her slender body. She could see their door way through the open air stair case. She knew what she planned was dangerous. She knew she could be killed. She remembered again why she was doing it. She remembered the public reason and the secret reason. 'Do it now or spend the rest of life in regret,' she thought.

She stepped out into the street. Immediately a car hit her. Her body slammed upon the hood. Instinctively she curled up and rolled off the rusted fender, landing on the sidewalk in bare feet. The pedal pushers had gone flying.

The driver stopped immediately. A thin young man with dark skin and ropes of dreadlocks on his head popped out. He wore a shirt that said 'Pizza Hut.' “Lady! Lady! Are you OK!” he shouted.

She looked at herself standing bare foot on the sidewalk and then nodded to mean yes.

“You sure? Don't worry, I'll take you to the hospital,” he shouted again.

“No, sir, I am OK. I need to be somewhere,” she said sounding calm.

Being addressed as sir by a white woman, older than him, too, left him speechless.

Another voice now entered the conversation. “You OK?” asked Raymond. Raymond looked big compared to Mr. Dreadlocks.

“I didn't mean to do it,” pleaded Mr. Dreadlocks.

“I am well, sir,” she said.

“Good,” said Raymond. Placing a collar on her neck, he then attached it to a lead. Wrapping the lead around his hand a few times he lead her across the street with a mild jerk.

The hot pavement burned her feet as she crossed. Mr. Dreadlocks shouted, “I'll get your shoes!”

Raymond said back, “She won't be needin' 'em where she's going.”



When she got to his door she tugged back on the lead. She felt the fear moving inside her. He pulled her inside and ordered, "Strip."

Dutifully she obeyed taking off the last item of the three she had carefully inventoried as she left her car.

Naked with the dress shapeless at her feet, Raymond closed the door. Returning he looked at her like a piece of artwork. He did not kiss her.

He bound her wrists in front of her, took her to the bedroom, hung her by her wrists in the empty walk in closet, turned out the light and closed the door. She would hang there alone with her burning feet until the John got there with the guy from Chicago....

 

[Eulalia]

That's a very exciting start, like the feel of this...

 

[Madiosi]

Bookmarked!

 

[Secret Keeper]

Part 2

When the guy from Chicago arrived she could hear the door open and the greetings. “Damn rental car apes!” came the voice she had heard only by telephone.

He was known by his screen name, HeartCutter, or simply as the sadist.

She expected them to come right away and get her, but they didn't. The rant about the broken rental car went on for some time. She continued to hang in the walk in closet. All then went quiet. The burning sensation in her feet subsided.

She then heard the voice again. “You guys can afford a better place than this, can't you?” said the guy from Chicago.

John explained, “Divorce.”

HeartCutter gave out a knowing groan.

Suddenly the door opened. She squinted at the light. John, Raymond and the sadist were at the door way looking at her.

She glanced at them a moment and then instinctively looked down.

A glance was enough. She had seen his picture of course, but not seen him. In person he seemed more scary and a bit oily.

The confident look on his face indicated that he already knew her inside and out, including things she didn't want anyone to know. He walked in the closet carrying a small bag.

He positioned his face as though he wanted to kiss her. Submissively she responded to this implicit request. He didn't kiss her. Instead he smelled her breath.

The look on his face indicated approval. He then walked around her, eyeing her up and down like she was a side of beef in a freezer and he was a prospective buyer from a grocery store.

When he got in front of her he placed his hand on her pussy and found her clit easily with his finger. Quickly she became wet at his touch.

He pulled his hand away, sniffed his finger and smiled. Then he pulled something out of the bag. She couldn't see what it was. He went behind her. She could then feel what it was, as it entered her ass hole.

She shrieked. As he laced the strings around her waist that would hold butt plug inside, he said, "This should keep you in line during the trip."

To Raymond and John he ordered, "Load her!"

They untied her wrists and retied them behind her. Throwing her on the floor face first on a blanket they tied her ankles together. On the blanket they completed the hog tie.

They then placed a blanket on top of her, then lifted her up. They took her outside to the back. John triggered the trunk lid and the three dropped her in.

When in the trunk they took the top blanket off and attached the hog tie to structures in the trunk.

The trunk closed and then darkness. She was alone inside it with that thing inside her. Her dress lay on the floor in the apartment, forgotten.

The three men got into the car and off they went. Except for being hit by the car all went according to script.

Raymond and John had told her that they had found a place. They hadn't said where it was.



In the darkness she found herself wanting to be back at work in her cubical doing demographic analysis on a forgettable day. The happy faces of her sister's family would be looking up at her from their photo.

Now she felt herself a long way from that.

She began to wonder if the men could hear her safe word if she said it in the trunk, but then she could hear some of their conversation, so she guessed her safe word could be heard.

She could hear the guy from Chicago say, "I can't believe she's 41." Then she heard John's answer, "The really good ones get better with age."

She smiled in the dark.

She thought smugly of her ex-husband. She thought, “I bet he took his wife to Disneyland, grabbing a bit of vanilla while the kiddies slept. This weekend I am going to have more sexual adventure than both of them will have had in their whole lives.”

Later she heard Raymond ask, "Have you seen it yet?" "No," said the guy from Chicago.

This concerned her. Of course she knew what 'it' was. 'It' was a big part of the script. However, if Raymond and John didn't have it and the guy from Chicago didn't bring it, who had it?

"I emailed them the measurements based on the ones you gave me and they asked sensible questions," said the guy from Chicago. "They thought the temperature probe was a nice touch."

"That is it!" she thought. There is someone else involved. Why wasn't I told! This was NOT according to script.

She tried to struggle against her bonds, but it only made her feel that thing inside her all the more.

That thing inside her excited her, too. It felt so big. It humiliated her. It violated her. It, though, was part of the script. New invitees were not.

She struggled a new. They had violated the script. Her objection had to be heard. She shouted, “Anthrax!”

The car coasted to a stop. The trunk lid opened to the guy from Chicago. “What is it?” He demanded.

“You have someone else involved. That isn't in the script,” She shouted. She could see that they were at the side of a busy road. She saw no signs.

“We have to...” she started, but as quickly as she spoke the guy from Chicago brought a ball gag up from below her chin. He caught it on her top front teeth and rolled it into her mouth. Before she knew it he had secured it behind her head.

He closed the trunk lid.

When in the car he said, “It was nothing. There will be no more 'anthrax' on this trip.”

She bit down on the ball and made muffled sounds, but after a while gave up. The hum of the tires continued on and on. The radio came on a few times. The guy from Chicago like Classical, but Raymond and John liked Country. In between they talked about the coming events.

Eventually she started to feel the temperature get cooler. Evening must be coming, but perhaps they were going up in elevation.



She felt the car slow down. The conversation in the cab stopped, the radio off. She felt the car turn on to a bumpy road. Her heart started to race, the journey was obviously nearing its end.

After the car stopped the trunk opened. It was Raymond. He started untying her, but kept her arms tied behind her and her ankles tied.

He pulled her out of the trunk. Considering the possibility they were in Pennsylvania, she looked around for a parked car to glance at its license plate. However, Raymond bent her over the bumper, so her head and upper body were back in the trunk.

"I'm going to have you now, bitch," he said. He penetrated her almost immediately, his cock rock hard. As he rammed her his pubis hit the butt plug, which, then also rammed her. She got so wet it started to go down the insides of her thighs. She could tell he was holding on to stay inside her as long as possible.

He ejaculated into her nude bound body with grunts of satisfaction. He withdrew almost immediately and then slapped her hard on the ass. "Great fuck!" He said.

The others chuckled. "Couldn't wait, eh!"

“She’s a great piece of ass, guys. You have something to look forward to,” he said.

Reattaching the lead, he untied her ankles and led her into the cabin with her wrists still tied behind her and cum oozing down the inside of her thighs. In the cabin was a table with five plates and two men she had not seen before.

They resembled one another so she assumed they were brothers. The older one came up to her and said, "I guess we are your surprise."

Instinctively submissive, she looked down and away and said, "Yes sir." She liked him. She had to. She was now under their power.....

 

[Secret Keeper]

Part 3


Raymond led her to a place on the floor that had an eye bolt screwed into it. "Kneel," he ordered.

She knelt and sat on her shins on the floor. He then tied the lead to the eye bolt so she would not be able to stand. "Now," he said, "Recite."

"Yes Master," she recited:

My nudity is a token of my submission, for I may not hide anything from you.

My thinness is a token of my submission, for I deny myself food to keep myself appealing to you.

The pain you give me is a token of my submission for I consider it an honor to suffer under your hand.

The penetration of my body is the culmination of my submission as every part of me, even the inside of me, exists only for your pleasure.


Good enough.



Raymond untied her wrists from behind her and tied them again in front of her while she looked at him. One of the brothers, the younger one, brought her meal. It was green and she wasn't quite sure what it was.

It sat in what looked like a dog's bowl. He set it on the floor in front of her with a child's sippy cup full of water.

The five men sat at the table to eat. They ate food that could be identified.

She ate her green mush sitting on her shins on the floor using her hands. At first taste she detected another variance from the script. It tasted great! The script had it tasting awful. In no time it was gone. The brothers filled the dog's dish again and she ate hungrily.

She ate almost four dishes of it. She knew it would be quite a while before she could eat again.



The younger brother knelt down with a pair of scissors and started cutting off her hair. "You mustn't be allowed to hide your face with hair during your ordeal," he said.

She sat motionless as he cut her hair short and badly.

Raymond looked at the bad hair cut and said, "I'm glad I fucked her before you cut the hair." The men laughed. She tried to hide her face, but couldn’t.

“Ron, you have no future as a hair dresser, stick to computers,” said the older brother.

The men laughed.



At about that time the guy from Chicago then appeared at the door. He said, "It's time." Everyone went quiet.

The brother with the scissors untied the leash from the floor and handed the free end to the guy from Chicago. While the haircut had been going on the sadist form Chicago had slipped out to check the thing that the brothers had made. They had made it well.



The sadist led her out of the cabin. The sun was still up as it was the last day of July 2009. She was being lead to her crucifixion site, naked.

The other four followed behind. Sticks and stones hurt her feet as she was forced to walk on a dirt path. They turned a corner and there it was. She gasped.

She knew it was coming, however, up until now it had only just been talk. Now she was there naked and staring at her cross. She could feel the fear inside her. Her heart, pounding since the car crash, now pounded harder.

Her cross had been fashioned out of 4 by 4 lumber. The vertical part, the stipe, was longer than she expected. When she was mounted upon it, much of it would need to be in the ground for stability, so it had to be long.

The horizontal bar, the pantibulum, was long enough to accommodate the length of her arms and was also made of 4 by 4 lumber. When she would hang on it the pantibulum would be behind the stipe pulling her chest open.

Although the cross was ‘T’ shaped, the stipe extended up beyond the pantibulum. On it was a simple sign, "Slut." There was also a block of wood attached five feet six and three quarters inches below the pantibulum where her feet would be mounted. Two feet seven and three quarters inches above the foot rest a round pole, known as the anus cornu protruded from the stipe at a close angle, 5.75 degrees. The anus cornu was the width of a broom handle.

She remembered the night vividly at Raymond and John’s place when they carefully measured her. The careful measurement had been full of erotic power, for she posed in the way she would hang on the cross. She had fucked them both twice once in the evening and once in the morning. Without their knowledge she had masturbated in between.

Tears started to well in her eyes. She told them to expect crying.

They grasped her and placed her on the ground. The Romans never crucified a woman as a virgin. They always fucked them to make sure. This tradition would be honored.

They tied her to the ground spread eagle in full sight of her cross, ropes on each ankle and wrist. They placed two tent pegs on the inside of her thighs just above the knees to ensure she was unable to close her thighs.

The remaining four then took their turns on her. While they were thrusting inside her she would look at the cross and again realize how humiliating it would be to be mounted on such a thing. She would orgasm. It always worked.

The guy from Chicago chose to be the last. He penetrated her with enthusiasm like the others. While inside her, playing with her breasts, rubbing his thumbs over the nipples, he told her what to expect on the cross, how she would be alone and how long periods alone would be ended with sexual tortures. He grabbed what was left of her hair and directed her face to the cross.

“You are going to hang on that, bitch. Nothing can stop it now,” he said. “If you are good, we may let you come off of it.”

“I live to please you, master,” she said, as he shot his load inside her.

To be continued...

 

[Eulalia]

I've changed the text colour of 'her' submission, yellow is invisible to those of us who use default (white background).

Will it be the weekend of her dreams?

 

[Secret Keeper]

Part 4

The butt plug had been in her this whole time. Now the guy from Chicago untied it and pulled it out. The others untied the victim’s wrists and put Vaseline on the cross’ cornu. It would violate the victim’s ass hole as long as she stayed mounted on it.

Each of the men held an ankle or wrist and carried her to the cross. She pretended to struggle, mostly from nervousness.

The guy from Chicago then guided the cornu up her ass hole carefully moving her hips to achieve proper penetration. When he had made sure the shaft was fully inside her, the others tied their victim’s wrists and ankles to the cross. She watched them intensely as they tied her wrists.

When they had finished tying her, Raymond said, "I think I will have her again." He pulled off his pants and jumped on her penetrating her on the cross. As he looked at her helpless below him he kept thinking, “You are my fuck toy.” He could feel the hardness of the cornu against his cock through the inner flesh of her body, amplifying his excitement.

He looked at her and saw in her what he thought was fear. Then he thought he could identify his own feeling now, too, hatred. To him she was the most disgusting debased excuse for a human in existence; a slut, a whore and a masochist. He then exploded even more strongly than he had done before.

He pulled out quickly, whacked her on the hip and said, "Great fuck."

One of the brothers got the nod to read the 'death warrant.' He read, “The condemned you see before you has agreed to be a sacrifice. She has been the gang bang girl for Raymond and John for the past two years. Gentlemen, execute the condemned."

Three of them got behind the cross to lift it up. John had the video camera, that was the technology of 2009. The guy from Chicago guided the base of the cross into the hole prepared for it.

She felt her nude body rising in the air. On the far side of the hole from the cross was a board so the end of the cross would not push into the side of the hole, but slide across it. As the cross achieved vertical it dropped into the hole causing the cornu to ram her. She cried out with yet another orgasm.

As two of the men held the cross vertical, the others removed the board and filled the hole with gravel to stabilize the cross.

Then the younger brother and Raymond had the honors of whipping the victim. Each of her orgasms would have to be paid for with pain. They whipped her mercilessly to raise striped welts on her. She screamed and flinched with each lash, rising up and down on the thing inside her.



They paused to look at their work. The victim had been attached to the cross in a most obscene manner. At the top of the cross was the simple sign that labeled her, "Slut." The collar had been left around her neck as an ornament of domination.

Her slender arms stretched upon the pantibulum, bound to it wrist and hand by ropes. The hands were still caked with the green remnants of her last meal. Her eyes were tightly closed in a gesture indicating, "This can’t be happening." Her breasts were bare and striped due to the whipping. Their nipples stood firmly. She was thin enough that you could see her ribs, even at her breast bone you could see her ribs. Her belly and abdomen were firm and flat, her pubis shaved. Her slender legs were striped with the welts from the whipping, and spattered with drying semen.

Her ankles had been tied crossed forcing her thighs apart, forcing open the outer lips of her womanhood, revealing the inner lips from which dripped the white fluid of the men who had done this to her.



The sadist from Chicago reached up to stroke her left shin. Carefully he moved his hand up and down. “Feel that, Tom,” he said to the older brother.

The older brother, Tom, reached up to the right shin. The firmness of the flesh surprised him.

“Muscle tone doesn't get better than that,” said the sadist.

“I see it reflected in the breasts, too,” said the older brother.

“Not so, different flesh there, but you're right in a way. Most women her age don't have breasts this firm. When she was younger the nipples would have been further up. Now they show vertical,” said the sadist.

The nipples firmed as they spoke.

“Implants?” Asked Tom.

The guy from Chicago studied her breasts carefully for scars. “I think not. What you are looking at is natural,” said the sadist.

“Below the breasts I can see the markings of ribs,” noted Tom.

“Fine decoration. Look at the upper arms, slender with muscle shown prominently. That's a marker. This woman will never go to fat. She could eat anything and never gain an ounce. Little wonder she has no woman friends,” said the sadist.

“She doesn't have friends?” asked Tom.

“No. She doesn't have woman friends,” said the sadist.

She moved on the cross. Her face and naked pussy started to flush.

“Other men? I didn't think she was a whore,” asked Tom.

“She isn't. The other men are her business partners. She never mentions their wives. She never mentions any other woman,” The sadist continued, “except her sister.”

She let out a gasp.

The sadist smiled.

“The cavities next to he shoulders look mighty fine,” said Tom.

“Perfect frame for her shoulder blades and tits. The tits are small, but really cute the way they poke out proudly,” said the guy from Chicago.

She gasped again. Her nipples hardened.

“She says nothing. I wonder what she is thinking up there,” said the brother.

“Doesn't matter. She's just flesh,” commented the sadist.

“She cuts her brown hair short. I wonder why?” asked Tom.

Taking a grasp of the flesh of her shin, the sadist squeezed. “She clearly exercises regularly. Short hair is better for an active life,” he said.

“She is sure having an active life this weekend,” noted Tom.

The sadist smiled. “Every weekend, I am sure. I am so glad she shaves her ass. We can get a good view of how the cornu fucks her. Thank you for adding that,” he said.

“You're welcome. Your proposal sparked our imaginations,” said Tom, “We wanted something that would fuck her constantly. I will sleep happy knowing it's in there probing her.”

The older brother looked her up and down, taking in those long firm legs ending in the flushing pussy. “Have you noticed the dimples on her ass?” asked the brother.

“Oh, have I! We must make sure the brand doesn't interfere with that,” said the sadist. “I am thinking of it just below the ass.”

The brother answered, “No, the shin. She will have less option of covering it, then people will ask.”

“Hmm..” said the sadist. “You have a point.” He then addressed them all, “Shin or thigh?”

The discussion ensues and thigh was the choice.

On the cross she let out a deep breath.

“I do think she is leaking. What do you suppose that white stuff is?” continued the guy from Chicago with a smile.

The brother pretended to answer, “Yes, I see. Oops! Some dripped down. I think someone may have put something in there and it's getting wetter.”

Her naked pussy reddened further and two more drips came down. The men laughed.

The guy from Chicago rubbed the bit that fell on him, then sniffed. He smiled.

“Does the doctor have a diagnosis?” Asked the brother.

“Yes, but I will have to tell you later,” said the guy from Chicago.

He walked around to the back of the cross. Her back and hips could be seen on each side of the rough wooden stipes. “Look at the roundness of that ass,” said the brother.

“Skinny woman flesh has a collapsed buttocks. This flesh is nice and round. You get a nice view of the thighs that are part of it, lean and smooth,” said the sadist.

Continuing to walk around, the brother said, “Don't you like the way the cross poses her. Her body language says 'come fuck me, I'm free' whether she wants to or not.”

“Good point. What she wants to say with her body doesn't matter. Her pose says it for her, be it her will or not,” said the sadist.

Together they took her in from the 'SLUT' sign to the tips of her toes.

“What we have here is top quality woman flesh,” said the sadist.

“Top quality. Let's use it well,” said the brother. “We better get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a memorable day,” as he slapped a shin.

With that they left, making no comment to the blushing flesh on the cross.

Her ordeal was only beginning.



To be continued....

 

[Eulalia]

A beautifully long-drawn-out humiliation, as cruel and torturous as any physical pain -
and to a masochist girl like me, as arousing - grrrrrrrrr I'm oozing too!

 

[Madiosi]

To be continued....

Always a important information for me.

 

[Secret Keeper]

Always a important information for me.

Thank you. I am still learning.

 

[Secret Keeper]

Part 5 posted 9/23/17



The sun had gone down by now. They had placed an electrical switch in her left hand. The older brother said it was attached to a door bell in the cabin. It was to be her safe word during the night.

The men were tired. After this evening entertainment they went off to get some sleep, leaving her there.

She couldn't imagine how she could sleep on this thing. She was vertical and of course that thing was inside her. She was naked and was even now craving more stimulation. Every movement of her slender legs caused that thing to move inside her. It kept her wet and, of course, kept her awake.

The muscle aching from the forced pose had not yet started.

The near full moon rose and made her white skin shine. Then she got it. She was alone. She was naked. She was helpless.

She had to pull herself up by her arms and legs constantly. If her weight rested on the cornu it pinched the flesh between it and her tail bone. She would let her arms and legs rest occasionally and take this pain, but she couldn’t see how she could sleep with this going on.

She could hear animals on the ground. Behind her she could hear what sounded like a lot of mice. What if one climbed? She held that switch in her hand tightly.

Some how she must have fallen asleep, because she woke with a start. In the bushes in front of her was some large animal. A bear! She pressed the button frantically then held it down with all her strength.

The animal jumped out of the bushes. A deer. It scampered away paying her no notice.

Her heart pounded in her chest; perspiration covered her. She was coming to know a little more of the horror of crucifixion. She wondered what to tell the man that came out to check on her. Should she ask to come down?

She waited and waited. No one came. Fear and exhaustion mixed so that she fell into an odd state of consciousness, a shallow sleep that made her unable to tell the difference between being sleep and being awake.



She had a dream that the younger brother climbed the cross with a ladder and performed cunnilingus on her. Did it happen or was it a dream?

She didn't know....





In the morning the older brother came out with the next tool of her torture. This was a long pole which had a dildo mounted to the end. The sadist was with him.

She slept a shallow sleep on the cross, but had not noticed his silent approach.

He brought the dildo up to her and placed it between her breasts.

She could feel it and immediately knew what it was. This was in the script.

He drew the tip down along her body to her lower lips. Finding her clit, he started to rub the tip against it. The victim, in a partial dream state, responded moving upon it and sighing. Her sighs got louder and her movements more jerky as the dildo stimulated her and she came more to full awareness.

Carnal fluids started to move freely through her body.

At that point the older bother thrust the dildo inside her, full shaft. She screamed and her eyes opened for a moment. At the base of the dildo were two little rubber fingers. One fit nicely on each side of her clit.

With a simple twist of the wrist they would rub both sides. He twisted his wrist and her sighs immediately became more intense, her struggles more desperate. Little by little he brought her to a fast shrieking, squirting orgasm.

The sign at the head of the cross said, "Slut." Point made.



Raymond, John and the younger brother had arrived in time. John had the camera running.

She now noticed something else. She felt that pressure in her body as she did every morning. "Oh no!" she thought. Until then she didn't realize that scat would be part of it. How naive she had been not to think of this! She could use her safe word, but there was not time. The unthinkable was already happening. The shit came pouring out of her despite the anus cornu. "Plop Plop Plop," it sounded as it pushed around the cornu and dropped to her feet, wedging itself between her heels and the stipes. Her eyes were wide open now as the depth of this humiliation struck her. "Filth," was all she could think of. The men laughed. Their victim again started to cry.

John kept the camera running.

She had told them she would cry a lot. Her full day on the cross had begun.

They had a pole with a water bottle on it to give her water. They had trouble getting it to work properly, though. They also had a sponge on a pole which they would fill with water and send up to her. They used it often to keep her hydrated.

All morning they penetrated her with the dildo on the pole. After every orgasm they would then make her pay for it by whipping her, raising more welts. Then they would start back again with the dildo.

The older brother gave lessons. He showed them how to tease her clit with the tip before penetrating her. He showed them the ways to flick the wrist to subject her clit to the different types of stimulation. He also showed them how to hold her at near orgasm, depriving her of that last touch needed to put her over and to give that touch only when they wanted to, not her. They learned fast and enjoyed thrusting their victim helplessly into ecstasy.

The day had started overcast. By noon sprinkles were starting. The men went in, presumably to eat. For their victim there was only fasting.

She began to wonder about her fate. 'Was she in danger?' she wondered.

The sadist had blown off her safe word in the car. That concerned her. She looked across the pantibulum at her firmly tied right hand and wrist. Soft ropes held her to it. Surely if she was in trouble they would have nailed her. Everyone knows that nailing is more erotic. Instead, if the ropes had been released now, no mark would show.

This gave her confidence.

Later, off to her left, she could see some movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head and looked to the right. There she could see the brothers digging a hole. Concern rose in her again. They didn't answer the call in the night. Now they are digging a hole.

She began to suspect again that she was in real trouble.

To be continued....

 

[old slave]

she fell into an odd state of consciousness, a shallow sleep that made her unable to tell the difference between being sleep and being awake.

She had a dream that the younger brother climbed the cross with a ladder and performed cunnilingus on her. Did it happen or was it a dream?

She didn't know....

A simple yet comprehensive account of that strange state of mind, and the plausible dreams that accompany it.

 

[Secret Keeper]

Here is a coincidence. I am writing this installment from Chicago!
It is a business trip. I had not planned it before the story started.

Part 6 of 13

How could she have been so stupid as to let this happen! She had trusted Raymond and John. Hadn’t they enjoyed her for the past two years? Certainly they wouldn’t allow her to be killed. The thought that this could happen made her heart race.

She thought of using her safe word. If they honored her safe word she would be OK.

However, if she used her safe word and they did nothing or laughed at her, then she would know it was all over. She swallowed hard, remembering that this had already happened.

She needed hope. Raymond was coming with the pole dildo. “Oh no!” she thought, he is going to do it again. She didn't want it anymore and tried to pull her thighs together, but the way she was tied made this impossible. She was on the cross offering her pussy whether she wanted to or not.

He looked up at her and licked his lips. He took out a small spice jar snatched from the brothers’ kitchen. It had some red stuff in it. He sprinkled some of the spice on the shank of the dildo.

He placed the tip at her clit and started to rub it. She melted and gave herself over to it. After her moans had gotten to a certain pitch he plunged it in.

Her eyes got wide as saucers. “Ahh!” she screamed, “what is it!”

Raymond didn’t give her an answer. He just smiled. She squirmed on the cross. Raymond withdrew the dildo. He watched her writhe upon the cross as the red pepper stimulated her wetness all by itself. This didn’t take her to orgasm, but seemed to leave her at the edge of it.

The brothers and John came by to join Raymond. Together they admired the victim's dance.

The older brother, Tom, noticed the spice jar Raymond had. “Can I see that?” He asked.

Raymond handed it over.

Tom looked the spice jar over. “Expired 9/2002,” he read, then promptly dumped it out. “I have new stuff, just got it last week.”

He left for the cabin as she started to shout “No!”

When Tom returned he handed the new spice jar to Raymond. Her juices had just managed to eject the red stuff.

He showed her the new label. “Organic,” he proclaimed and promptly started spicing the dildo.

Now he did not tease her clit, but merely plunged the pole dildo in. Her face became beet red immediately. She now had a new respect for 'sell-by' dates.

She gasped and groaned as the red pepper stimulated her. As she danced convulsively her pussy wept.

The men sat down on the ground and applauded the dance.

She looked at the sky helplessly as the pepper forced the dance and fluid came flowing from her.



As the dance came to its end, she slumped down on the cross. At about this time, the sadist arrived with a small grill.

He looked at the exhausted victim panting on the cross then glanced at the spice, then back to the victim. “You can increase the effect by adding powdered mustard,” he said.

She screamed.

The younger brother, Ron, started for the cabin.

“Hold on! Hold On!” Shouted the sadist. He picked up the bucket and threw it to Ron, who caught it. “She's going to lose a lot of water. Give her plenty to drink before.

Ron answered, “Yes, sir!” Ron had gotten out of the Air Force only two weeks before.



The sadist went back to his business of setting up the grill.

“Sir,” she called, imitating Ron.

The sadist looked at her.

She asked, “Could we please dispense with the third round?”

The sadist came up to her cross. He ran his fingers up the wetness on her inner thighs, collecting it. He then sniffed and tasted it. He said, “You're a fountain. I can't believe you have...” He stopped himself from continuing, then restarted, “I will see they do it right. Three times will be all.”

He went back to his grill.

When Ron and John came back they of course had the mustard. They brought folding chairs, too.

The sadist had the grill started in time for her final dance.

She sprayed them. They applauded.



To Be Continued....

 

[Madiosi]

Part 6 of 13

Even better!

 

[Secret Keeper]

Part 7 of 13

After the spray, the men all applauded.

The older brother then asked the guy from Chicago, “So why isn't she wearing nipple clips?”

The guy from Chicago rolled his eyes. “Either Raymond or John forgot them,” he said. “Neither of them will own up to it.”

“Well,” said the older brother pausing thoughtfully as he settled in his folding chair, “I have jumper cables.”

The guy from Chicago laughed. “I like the way you think,” he said, slapping his friend on the back.

The older brother said, speaking as though she wasn’t there, “This girl is tough. I bet she could take fish hooks.”

“Oh, yes,” said the guy from Chicago, “she could take a fish hook.” He smiled his fiendish smile. “She wouldn’t have a choice.”



While this was going on, the smell of charcoal wafted toward them. This was indeed part of the script. The spicing was an added frolic. The grill wouldn't be for grilling steaks. The fragrance made her realize that in theory she was hungry. Really, though, her stomach was in such a knot she would have had trouble eating had it been an option.

While the guy from Chicago and the younger brother changed into dry clothes the fire blazed high and then dropped down. When the guy from Chicago came back he was carrying the brand. The brand said “Aug. 1, 2009” the day’s date.

The victim knowing what was coming started to squirm. This only made the thing inside her move around. The guy from Chicago ordered, "Recite."

She said, "Yes, Master. My nudity is a token of my submission, for I may not hide anything from you. The pain you give me..."

He lashed her, putting yet another stripe on her thigh. Urine squirted from her, too, this time. “You know what you did wrong,” he said.

She then said, "My thinness is a token..."

He lashed her again. "From the top, Slut."

She was now shaking as the lashes were hitting skin wet from the rain. "Yes, Master," she said in a quivering voice,

“My nudity is a token of my submission, for I may not hide anything from you.

My thinness is a token of my submission, for I deny myself food to keep myself appealing to you.

The pain you give me is a token of my submission for I consider it an honor to suffer under your hand.

The penetration of my body is the culmination of my submission as every part of me, even the inside of me, is for your pleasure."



Good Enough



While this was going on, John had gone off to get the camera. The younger brother, Ron, got the brand red hot and ready. She could now see this. The older brother plunged the pole dildo inside of her. He was now better at this than the master.

Now would be a time to use the safe word, but she couldn't do it. As long as she didn't know, it was better. Not knowing was better than knowing the worst.

And that dildo! If she used the safe word it may stop. She didn’t want it to stop. Perhaps, she wondered, she really was a slut.

The younger brother announced that the brand in the fire was ready. The guy from Chicago pulled it out.

The older brother had been keeping his victim at the edge. He turned the dildo just right to put her in orgasm. As her cries reached their peak, the guy from Chicago placed the brand on her right thigh just below the buttocks, burning the skin, but not the flesh. Her scream of ecstasy turned into a scream of pain louder than any before. It echoed down the valleys and came back as an echo.

He pulled the brand away and she screamed again, just as loudly.

They all gathered around and looked up at her. Tears came down her face as she gasped for breath. She looked the guy from Chicago directly in the eye. "More," she said, "Give me more."

The guy from Chicago ordered, "Blindfold her."

They brought out their whips and gave her more and more. She screamed loudly as tears came from beneath the blindfold, flinching with each lash.

Then they put the dildo in her and lashed her at the same time. Something they had not done before. Still she held to her safe word. She was afraid if she used it, they would continue beating her, taking her to new levels of wretchedness each time she shouted it.

Now, without the safe word she was taking it, and taking it. With each lash she was surprising herself with her own toughness.

Eventually they stopped their whipping. One said, "Let’s get some sleep."

The guy from Chicago marveled that she had not used her safe word yet. There was still tomorrow. He would have it out of her.

As they left, though, she gave them their victory. She said, "Master, please remove the blindfold." The younger brother came back, placed the ladder on the cross and removed the blindfold. She would be glad he did....



To be continued....

 

[Secret Keeper]

Part 8 of 13


After the younger brother left, the guy from Chicago turned around and came back. Looking up at her on the cross, he carefully studied all the marks of her torture, the welts, the burn and the bleeding from her pussy. In this way he groped her with his eyes for quite some time.

He walked around the cross a few times, reached up and stroked her shins.

Her slender legs were exquisitely formed. Other than the welts, her skin was smooth. The opinion he formed about her earlier stayed in full force. Even with the bad hair cut, she was good art, a perfection of feminine beauty.

“You mustn’t taunt,” he said. “My ability to give you pain is always greater than your ability to endure it.”

She kept her head turned away and her eyes closed. She said softly, “Yes, master. I am sorry, master.”

“We have a special breakfast planned for you my dear,” he chuckled. “Sleep well.”

He then took a fish hook from his pocket, hooked it in the calf of her leg and gave it a slap. He went away to the cabin to the sound of her gasps. The sweetest music, he thought, he had ever heard.

That night he would sleep soundly.



His victim would not.



The sun had gone down now and the moon was up again, giving a light that seemed brighter than usual. Her loins ached from the two days of abuse. Her shoulders and arms ached from the forced pose. Each welt on her body shouted to her with pain demanding attention. Shouting loudest of them all was the ache in her ass hole, the chafe burns on her wrists and ankles, the burn from the brand and now the fish hook.

The moon was just short of full, still waxing. She looked at it from the cross. Wispy clouds crossed the sky and its light reflected from them. The beauty of the scene and the quiet surprised her.

How many years, she wondered, had it been since she appreciated the simple beauty around her? Why, she wondered, had she been in such a hurry all those years? She wondered why she filled so many of those years with failed infertility treatments and the marriage that ended. She wondered for the first time why she made herself endure three drab years of no human touch other than the hugs from her sister’s family at the end of a long car trip.

Now all that striving, all that disappointment seemed like nothing.

Only the slightest breeze was in the air. Blowing across her pubis, it was just enough to remind her of her nakedness. All was quiet.

She felt urine start to come out of her. She slowed the flow so it trickled down the inside of her right leg, feeling its warmth against her skin as it made its way to her feet. She felt no shame. She was beyond that now.

There in the quiet she finally forgave the husband that left her. She forgave him completely. She forgave the woman who came in her place and gave him the family she had wanted to give him. She forgave her completely.

In her minds eye she could see her children, the little boy and little girl who would have called her mommy. There on her cross she said good-by to them for the last time, knowing they would never exist.

Suddenly she felt lighter. How long, she wondered, had the grudge been in her? How long had the old, stale dream of the motherhood been in her, bringing her to this place?

On the cross would be just her, no clothes, no failures, no grudges, no bitterness, no envy. She now looked at her life and saw it complete.

She looked to her right nothing stirred. She looked to her left nothing stirred. She looked down on her nude body. The welts had not changed her form. She saw herself as beautiful part of this scene on this, what could be her last night of life. A shooting star passed near the moon. Surely, it was for her.



That hole the brothers dug, that was for her, too. What else could it be for?

Even to them, the men who would kill her in the morning and turn her into the next Black Dahlia, she felt no anger. She had forgiven them, too, and only wished that they, too, could feel the peace and appreciate the beauty as she could now.

She wondered if they would leave the collar on her neck as a sign to whoever may happen upon her grave that she had died under domination.

She had peace with it all now and just drank in the sky and the silence around her. The dawn my break cruelly, but now the quiet and the beauty now were hers....



To be continued....

 

[Secret Keeper]

Part 9 of 13

They woke her in the morning with whips, Raymond on one side and the younger brother on the other. John had the video camera going to record it all.

Five good lashes brought her out of sleep and into the harsh reality of what was going to happen. There in front of her was the guy from Chicago with the pole dildo.

No! It wasn't the pole dildo. On the end was a knife!

Now it all made sense! His screen name on the hook up site was HeartCutter. He didn't have the crux fetish at all. His fetish had been on his name all along!

She started to scream, rapid short screams. "Scream as loudly as you like, it won't help you," he announced.

The shock of seeing the knife had made her go to pieces. With all her determination she pulled herself back together. She envisioned her emotions as a basket of apples that had been dropped. Slowly, methodically, she put all of her apples back into the basket. If there was some way out of this she determined to find it. To do this she would need her wits sharp and calm.

The older brother brought the real pole dildo. He found the familiar path to her lower lips and thrust it inside her. She was amazed that even under these severe conditions she became quickly aroused. Their skill at forcing arousal from her seemed as great as their ability inflict pain.

The whips had stopped now. It was just the dildo doing her and the sexual humors already flowed strongly. The guy from Chicago then brought the knife up placing the point just below her breast bone. The point just inches from her heart, the sadist, HeartCutter, held it steady.

The older brother continued the dildo working those little rubber fingers on each side of her clit, in the special way only he knew. Every twist of his wrist brought a new level of sexual excitement.



She now guessed their game was to kill her in orgasm. Orgasm was death. She determined to fight it, to make it all fizzle. Eventually they would get tired.

She tried hard to put her mind to non-erotic thoughts. She tried to put her mind to the phone bill, taxes, anything boring. She thought of demographic analysis. What was an H.D.B.A.? All these thoughts, though, had no life span in her mind. At this point she was having trouble even remembering what a telephone was, much less an H.D.B.A. (high density black )!

All she could think about was that thing driving inside her and her complete inability to even bring her thighs together. The carnal humors relentlessly built inside her, greater and greater, until she felt like she had a hard growing ball inside her, a sparkling ball of orgasm, an orgasm she must not have.

Still that thing drove relentlessly inside her, bringing her closer to the edge. "Orgasm is death," she tried to think. "Orgasm is death, Orgasm is death."

It wasn’t working.

From the poll dildo she felt the orgasm start to come up. It was like she was their oil well and a gusher now started. As a gusher vibrates the ground around the well. She now felt he whole body start to vibrate as the gusher rose inside her. She felt it, in her mind's eye she saw it rising. At the head of she saw that the shining ball had hatched. It looked like a clenched fist.

Yes, John had fisted her once. Although not prone to exotic sexuality, John had done that. His fist, massive, felt like this. However she saw in her mind's eye this fist shone like polished silver, as it rose inside her.

She could not stop it. When it hit her mind the orgasm would hit. Nothing, not even the knife at her heart, could stop it.

The tip of the knife cut into her flesh. Blood could now be seen. When Raymond saw it, he screamed at the top of his lungs, "Anthrax!"

She saw the knife pull away.

She would not be killed after all.



When the thing struck, it struck with a power that made her think she had been knocked from the cross.

On the ground the men heard the sound she made, a low howl with a bell in it. None could imagine how any human could make such a sound.



Their victim did not hear it.

She felt a lightness in her, like she was falling. Although she expected to hit the ground she felt herself being slowly stopped, like she had fallen into water.

The feel was not that of the cool of water, though, after a dive. The feel was of something else, novelty.

The sensation had a memory attached, a memory unknown for decades.

The sensation brought the memory of running through a flower garden in full bloom with spring flowers as a child. She must have been no more than three years old when it happened. Insider her were all the joys of novelty, all of life being new. It wasn't so much the memory, but the feeling it carried, unknown in her life since, but now welcome like an old friend.

Soon another replaced it. This was the feeling she had when her parents told her she would have a new sister. Again, it was the feeling not the memory, a feeling not enjoyed since that day 35 years ago.

The replacement feeling soon followed. This had no memory attached at all, however her sense of mind felt a joy of a flavor far different than the others.

Next was the feeling she had when when the principal of her elementary school told her she had achieved the highest grades in her class and that she should give the address at graduation. Again, it wasn't the memory but how her state of mind had flowed at the thought of being so honored.

Next came another flowing joy with no memory attached. This one again different in flavor from the rest.

Next she ran through the flower garden again. Novelty! Life all a new.

What followed next was the flavor of the joy she had when tending her sister's hair on her sister's wedding day. On that morning she felt time stand still as she caressed one she loved so dearly. The flavor of that joy made time stand still.

Next another without memory and on it went rotating in what she would describe later as a wheel of joy.

The wheel rotated faster and faster until it spun in a blur. She saw it grasped by that shining hand, a shimmering gauntlet clad hand. This fist now held every joy she could ever feel in life. Now a fist it rammed these joys through her brain all at once.

Despite the violence of this fist, what it held spread through her. She felt the presence of something warm and caring, much like she had when she was small and her parents were still alive.

As these sensations continued a powerful throbbing took hold inside her as the gauntlet hit the back of her skull.

Her head learched back banging on the stipe so she became to some extent conscious of the outside world.

Looking down she saw she ejected fluid from her body in pulses. She felt that warm thing reaching up inside her squeezing rhythmically, relentlessly in her vagina. The thing inside her now had hold of her and seemed determined to squeeze all the fluid from her. Surely it will leave her shriveled like a raisin on the cross.

She realized she was not having an orgasm, the orgasm was having her. This orgasm would not be done with her until IT chose to be done with her. As a submissive she welcomed this spirit, a spirit she could not control, into her body.

Now, too, she could hear herself scream, a scream as loud as the one she had made when she had been branded with echos coming back it became like a song. She had no idea how long she had been in that place.



Her right hand and feet had already been cut free and the men were feverishly cutting the ropes that held her left wrist and hand to the pantibulum.



The younger brother climbed the ladder before her, just like in the dream, but this time he pressed up on her knees with his shoulder while she squirted on him. He forced her body up until she became free of the thing that had violated her these three days.

Her right wrist now free, she swung around on the pantibulum, hung for a moment as her sexual juices dripped from her toes. When she dropped to the ground, she couldn't stand up.



On the ground waited five men. Each had rights to her body.



To be continued....

 

[Eulalia]

She realized she was not having an orgasm, the orgasm was having her. This orgasm would not be done with her until IT chose to be done with her. As a submissive she welcomed this spirit, a spirit she could not control, into her body.

a brilliant description of a real, perfect orgasm - yesssssssssssss!

 

[Secret Keeper]

Part 10 of 13

Raymond was on her immediately. She was shocked. Were not the backs of her legs smeared with shit? What was the fluid on her legs?

This didn't stop him. Of course she didn't, couldn't resist. Holding her firmly by the wrists he came inside her like he would split her in half. He had not had sex since she had been mounted on the cross. Her show on the cross had clearly been an inspiration.

Next came John. Not prone to dominate, his size though did dominate. She always felt like a toy in his grasp. Whether he wanted it or not he did physically dominate her.

Next came the older brother, Tom. He wielded his cock every bit as well as the pole dildo, starting by rubbing her clit with his cock.

The gauntleted hand squeezed and twisted inside her releasing what it still held. Like waves again came the sensation of running through the garden, with all its novelty. Then she felt dipped in the joy like she felt when she would have a new sister, then came the nameless joys as the older brother plied his skills on her.

Gratuitously he teased her toying with the orgasm inside her, bringing it up, taking it down until he could not hold any more.

When he poured himself inside her she felt once again best in class.

When the younger brother arrived the gauntlet clad orgasm had taken to drawing designs on her skin from the inside. The delicacy of the younger brother's touch surprised her, coming from the outside. The orgasm followed his figures over her body spreading its humors through out her a new. He stirred her like a cup of coffee in this way.

She realized from his manner that he felt honored to make love to such a beautiful woman, one his senior. He strove to make the forplay last, but the tingling slowly became an unbearable ecstasy. She tried to say, “Do me!” However, the orgasm had taken her voice. All it allowed her were plaintive cries, moans and gasps.

His entry in her, when it came, felt like flowers blooming inside her.

He wanted to last long in her, but the orgasm had other ideas. Having the run of her body it squeezed his cock through her vagina. He ejaculated immediately.

Such a contrast when the sadist arrived. He had elected to be last. He gripped her firmly. Had she had the desire to escape, she could not have.

When he entered her the gauntlet gripped him firmly.

Once inside her he ordered, "Open your eyes and look into mine as I take you." They fucked in this way, holding eyes.

He could see how her eyes seemed to shine, like the eyes of a child on Christmas morning. As they continued fucking the shine flared up and down at the whim of the orgasm.

Looking into the face of her would be murderer she saw the anger in it. The anger crawled through his dreams at night. He carried it with him all day long, year after year. It had toned the muscles in his face.

The orgasm fed from this anger, roaring inside her, building greater. When he exploded into her body the orgasm exited through her nose. Her nasal passage would tingle for days.

He dropped upon her exhausted, releasing his grasp. He whispered in her ear so no one else would hear, "Worthy opponent, you please me."


To be continued....

 

[Secret Keeper]

Part 11 of 13

The older brother propped her up to a sitting position. He presented her with fork and a large mug of scrambled eggs with chives. “Break your fast with something high protein,” he said.

Had they been rubbish she would have been grateful, but they were light fluffy and seasoned to perfection.

They wrapped a blanket around her and helped her to her feet and then to the cabin.

There a full breakfast awaited her. The men would only eat after they were sure she had eaten all she wanted. Raymond positioned himself between the juice pitcher and coffee maker. Neither her juice glass nor coffee cup was allowed to get half empty. The older brother stood ready in the kitchen with scrambled eggs, sausages, bacon, toast and waffles.

Tom liked to send all his guests home well fed.

Just an hour and a half before, he had taken a kitchen knife and taped it to a broom handle with duct tape. He handed it to the guy from Chicago who scowled.

He had not liked the clear packing tape over the blade and immediately started to peel it off.

“Safety,” Tom had protested.

“It won't work if she sees it,” the sadist had said. He had handed it back to Tom. “Take it off.”

Studying the sadist carefully Tom had peeled off the tape, uncovering the sharpness of the blade and handed it back. “If you hurt her, we won't protect you,” Tom had said.

The sadist had looked his friend in the eye saying. “Understood.”

Tom had then smiled and said, “Let's see how high we can knock her!”

They then all went out to wake the victim. To all the men it seemed like a lifetime ago.

The younger brother arrived with a large bandage to cover the wound below her breast bone made by the knife. When she uncovered the area, the wound looked more like a bad scratch. It didn’t look as bad as some of the welts that striped her.

After the most intense of her hunger had passed, the guy from Chicago knelt at her side with a wire cutter, some gauze, a bandage and iodine to remove the fish hook.

She looked at him there and said in feigned hysteria, “This isn’t going to hurt, is it!”

Everyone laughed.

Hearing that her public liked it, she hammed it up. “I mean, really! I just can’t BEAR pain!”

That brought the house down with laughter.

The guy from Chicago piped up from beneath the table. “Guys, you are not going to believe this,” he said. “Her legs are crossed.”

The laughter continued.

She responded. “I think you are going to have to take a picture. They don’t believe it.”

After the laughter died down she asked, "Um.. What is the hole you are digging for?” The younger brother answered, "New outhouse, why?"

"Oh, nothing," she said, "I haven't visited your out house." They all laughed again.

They were all surprised at how her voice had changed. They shouldn’t have been, considering what she had been through.

After what seemed like a long pause she asked, “How long did it last?”

No one had to ask what she meant by, ‘it’. After a pause the guy from Chicago said, “Well, none of us was looking at his watch.”

She then asked John, “You got it on tape didn’t you?”

John said, “We will find out when we play it.”



They asked her how she came up with the screen name tupperware_girl, which she used on the BDSM hook up site. “It had to do with a job I had a long time ago,” she said, “doing market research for Tupperware. It was a special time in my life, being with young women starting their households. Their children and their marriages were young. This is a special time in a woman’s life.”

She continued, “I wanted to be a young mother like them once, but I am over that now.”

Her face was beaming with joy. None of them understood why.



After breakfast tupperware_girl took a well needed shower. During her shower she kept thinking of that place she had been. She began to realize how much she wanted to go back. She had this fear that the memory would soon slip away from her. She wanted to treasure it, to bottle it.

The four of them would need to leave soon. The guy from Chicago had to catch a plane and there was work on Monday.

On the drive back tupperware_girl slept, wrapped in a towel. Raymond held her close in the back seat. He could see tears in her eyes from the dreams she had. He caressed the collar with his finger. She had left it on.

He considered the feeling he had as he fucked her on the cross. It felt like hatred, but it wasn’t her that he hated. It was someone else.

There was little conversation on the way home. John wondered what it would be like to watch the video when they were 80. At one point the guy from Chicago turned around and said to Raymond, “I am glad you used the safe word. It turned out better that way.”



When they got back to Raymond's place they found tupperware_girl's pedal pushers in front of the door. Coiled inside one of them was a certificate for a free pizza.

While she put on her dress and pedal pushers, Raymond asked what time the flight was.

“It's in two hours. We better leave now,” he said. “I want Hannah to take me.”

Hannah seemed startled. Not just by the sadist's preference, but the sound of her own name.

“You OK with that?” Raymond asked.

“I serve our guest's pleasure,” she answered. “I will give you satisfaction, sir.”

The sadist said, “I have heard enough hillbilly music this weekend.”



When she started the car the sadist showed no surprise when the radio came up untouched with classical music. The second movement of Mahler's 4th symphony was on.

Rarely played, it ends like Beethoven's 9th with a song, but not a song of joy, but sung by a boy having urgency and an edge to it.

They drove in the direction of BWI airport not saying a word as the music played and the boy sang.

Hannah felt something, something familiar. It was one of the joys, one that did not have a memory. Now and for the rest of her life it now would have the memory of this trip with the sadist next to her. He had wrestled his demons and won, giving her new life.

When the piece ended he commented, “My favorite station when I'm in Baltimore.”

“I play it all the time,” she said.

“Much better than the one from Washington,” said the sadist.

“They are more daring with the play list,” she added.

After a pause the sadist said, “I know why you did it.”

“Did what?” she asked.

“Go off with five guys for a weekend of sadomasochistic sex,” he said. “That IS what you did.”

Hearing it said like that stunned her to silence for a moment. The radio started playing an obscure classical guitar piece by a Mexican composer. “I'm like the radio station. I like being daring with the play list,” she said.

“There is more to it,” said the sadist.


To be continued....