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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Fate
by Mistress Jytte & Musker (musker@earthlink.net)
***
A beautiful young college athlete has an accident that
changes her life and brings Mistress Liaa to her rescue.
(FF, dom, bdsm, tor, control)
***
Part 1: Memories
They said she had it all in the palm of her hands.
Youth, beauty, intelligence, style and an ambition to
win that made all else seem non- existent. She was the
perfect driven athlete. Up before dawn for the ritual
stretching and endurance exercises to keep her perfect
body in perfect form. Then college classes lasting most
of the day where she kept her perfect 4.00 grade point
average. And again, for the rest of the day and a good
part of the evening, she practiced long and hard on her
perfect gymnastic routine for the up and coming
Olympics.
She gave all of them her very best effort, the floor
exercise, the uneven parallel bars and the vault. All
three requiring intense concentration for perfect
execution, because within each was that one element of
danger. That one essential sequence that if preformed
correctly, would make her a gold medal winner. And if
not...
Then it happened. A dip in her concentration, a lost
grip and a spotter who was not paying attention when she
should have.
They all came running, the other athletes, the coaches,
the paramedics, the hospital. They were all there in a
flash to help her, the driven athlete and the next gold
medal winner.
And they all told her, promised her even, that she was
going to be as good as new and not to give up on her
Olympic dream. But they all lied, except the doctors.
They told her the truth, even though she didn't want to
hear it.
Then came the finger pointers, the accusations, the
experts, the lawyers, the courts and finally the
judgment. In the end she was a very rich young woman in
a wheel chair. And the spotter, well, those in the know
said it was a terrible accident and not her fault. So
the spotter kept her job with the college. She was a
tiny bit mournful deep in her heart, but in the end
nothing changed for her.
But for the one who had it all in the palm of her hands,
she tried. She dropped out of college to devote all her
energies into making herself whole again. More doctors,
more hope and more disappointment. When she was at the
end of her rope, she called me.
By some, I have been called a miracle worker. Not in any
religious way, I just get results where most people have
failed. Nor do I have a 100% successful rate either.
Just enough to pay the bills and put a little away for a
rainy day. After all, a girl has to look out for herself
too you know.
Now don't jump to conclusions. I am not one of those
slight-of-hand con artists feasting on the broken lives
of those in need, like some drooling vulture over a
dying road kill. I am a professional! A certified nurse
and physical therapist. And to those that I had the
pleasure of dispensing my healing ways too, they
gratefully called me their "Angel of Mercy" or a "God
sent." And if truth be known, to those whom have not
obtained such glorious, positive results, through no
fault of my own, they have nick named me something
different, like "Bitch" or "Bull Dyke" or the most
dramatic "Sadistic Bitch in White".
I kind of like that last one. Although I would prefer to
be called "Mistress Lisa". Mmmmmmm, I love to be called
Mistress. It gets me all excited and aroused, especially
between my... Now don't misunderstand me! I am not one
of those Mistresses who is a kept woman for some rich
guy cheating on his wife, because old wifee' won't give
him head. No, no, no, I am certainly not one of those
types. I am the other kind of Mistress, the dominant
kind. The one with a superior caustic attitude and an
ever present craving to be satisfied, sexually.
And of course there is this little nagging desire of
mine to be the instrument of another's, how shall I say
it, distress? That is why I am a nurse and physical
therapist. I love putting women, young beautiful sexy
women I might add, through hell, as I bring them back
slowly to their normal self again. All be it with a
slightly submissive kink ingrained in their psyche now.
Oh, in case you're wondering. I only work with women.
Which given my lesbian predisposition is quite
understandable, don't you think?
So, when I first received a call from Anna, the ruined
athlete, I was all tickled pink. I simply love the feel
of firm flesh under a soft smooth skin. Those powder
puff girly girls are all right for awhile, but give me a
woman who takes pride in the strength of her body and I
am in erotic heaven.
Of course, one can go too far in the other direction
too. My goodness, those muscle bound women with bodies
like men are one major turn off for me. I can't tell you
how often I have turned down those types of neurotic
obsessed women on a regular basis.
But I think what is at the heart of it all is the
contrast. A mixture of the powder puff and the muscle
bound. With not too much of the one, nor too little of
the other. A young woman who is all so naturally
feminine with soft flowing curves, angelic like features
and beautiful supple breasts. While at the same time
having some gamey meat to her bones that I can grab,
squeeze and smack around if I want. And endurance? Yes!
Staying power, for those long, physically draining, and
best orgasm producing sessions that I have ever
experienced in my entire life. Oh yes! If any woman had
all that going for her, I dare say I would become her
virtual slave, euphemistically speaking that is. And
when I first met Anna, she was just that type of woman.
It seemed like love at first sight. Well, for me it was.
We where both of the same generation with her being in
her early twenties while I was in the later part of
mine. She didn't wear any makeup that I could see, which
made her flawless Mediterranean like features all that
more intensely attractive to me. I on the other hand am
forced to use only a little coloring. Just enough to
give me that professional look that I must present to
the general public at all times.
When we first met she was sitting in her wheel chair
with her body completely covered in a comfortable sweat
suit. And even with that shape shielding garment, I
could see she was still keeping up with some limited
amounted of exercising. I for one have never faltered in
my daily routine of stretching and aerobics. It is
exactly what I need to keep myself in top physical
shape. Not to mention being a little more limber than
most, for those close, tight, body to body situations
that us professional health care givers sometimes find
ourselves in with our patients.
I can remember that first day like it was yesterday. I
presented myself to her with all due friendly
professionalism at her home. And she returned it with a
delightful, warm and inviting response, even to the
point of offering me some tea and biscuits. Considering
all that she had been through, especially at the
fumbling hands of my fellow health care givers, I was
amazed to see how pleasantly optimistic her disposition
was. Right then and there I knew it was going to be a
joy training her, I mean, making her physically better.
Our first meeting had its usual get acquainted period
with me informing her of my professional credentials and
her giving me her medical history. After that, I
politely told her to disrobe so I could do a preliminary
physical examination of her present condition. She
hesitated a little, which caused me to remind her that I
was a state certified medical professional and that
there was no need to feel embarrassed in my presence.
And that was exactly what she was too, embarrassed, as
her redden cheeks were an obvious testament to. But she
soon began removing her clothes, once she turned away
from me that is.
Her reluctance to disrobe in front of me was very
suspicious. It indicated to me that she was not
comfortable appearing nude before another woman. Now
THAT was strange! Particularly for such a lovely young
woman like Anna and given her long athletic background.
She no doubt was required to change clothes in locker
rooms teaming with other nude and semi-nude enticing
nymphettes.
And then there must have been a large number of older
female coaches and doctors looking at her nude form
while they remained dressed in front of her like I was.
So removing her clothes in front of another female, a
professional health care worker no less, shouldn't have
been a problem, unless! To quote the immortal
Shakespeare, "Me thinks the lady doth protest too much".
There had to be something there, lurking deep inside of
her. A curiosity, a desire, perhaps even a need? But at
the same time something was telling her, commanding her,
NO! A barrier, an impasse, a dilemma existed between
what her body was aching for and what her mind was
screaming at her that was wrong to do.
That's when I knew I had my work cut out for me. Not
only was Anna's body in serious need of my services, but
so was her mind. She needed someone, an authority
figure, to tell her it was not wrong to want what her
mind told her she could not have. And at the same time
she needed someone who had the talent and experience to
give her body what it longingly craved for. She needed a
mentor, a seductress, to set her lesbian desires free
and to see to it that all of them were completely and
totally satisfied. She needed ME!
Well, maybe not quite the "sadistic bitch in white" that
she was about to receive. But then, as the French would
say, "C'est la vie!"
I watched with hungry eyes as Anna removed her sweat
suit. Her legs were not completely disabled. The doctors
were able to make them functional again. She was just
limited to the amount of time she could stand on them
before the intense back pain returned her to the wheel
chair. When she finally did remove her sweat suit she
just stood there with her back to me in her virgin white
bra and panties. She appeared as a beautiful immaculate
vision to my eyes, a virginal icon in white undies. I
had to take hold of a piece of furniture to steady
myself, before I approached her, as a result of her
loveliness on my awestruck famished soul.
I just stood there silently behind her, ogling her
superb feminine shape. Once in awhile she would turn her
head to the left, then to the right, trying to see what
I might be doing behind her. Her coyness was such a turn
on for me that I wanted to take her right then, and bury
my salivating pussy all over her cute tongue licking
face. But I maintained my professional repose. There was
still a long way to go before that particular fantasy
could come to fruit.
I still remembered her words to me this very day when
she was the first to break the silence between us.
"Ok, I have taken off my sweats. Is this the way you
want me?"
My god, that last sentence "Is this the way you want
me?" And the way she said it, with so much childish
innocence and gullibility. Frankly, I began to wonder if
she wasn't some sort of con artist at heart. And if she
wasn't the one trying to bait me, to seduce her, to take
her, to fuck the living life out of her.
But then, it was probably my own wishful thinking trying
to crack the surface of my professional sobriety at the
time. Either way, I had to play it by the book. For this
was a critical point for me. I had to correctly set the
basic framework of our relationship right off the bat.
For what happened next would foretell what the future
would be like between Anna and myself.
So I responded in a short direct matter of fact tone.
"No it is not."
I wanted my authority, my professionalism and my
dominance to be the first thing that Anna was exposed to
while she was exposing herself to me.
But at the same time, I didn't want to alienate her
either. So I stepped up behind her, placed my hands
gently on her strong shoulders and then continued with
my reply to her. But this time in a compassionate,
motherly kind of tone.
"I know how hard it is for you Anna. All that you have
gone through, the pain, the disappointment. All those
unfamiliar people looking at you as if you were nothing
but a broken unfeeling object or a piece of butchered
meat. And although I am a professional and must
sometimes act accordingly, I am also a caring and
feeling human being too. So I can empathize with your
situation my dear.
"Exposing yourself like this, in your own home and to a
complete stranger, can be a most distressing time for
anyone. But I am here for you Anna. To try my VERY best
to make your life better, in all ways possible. And to
do it in a manner that does not threaten your dignity as
a human being or your sensuous femininity. So if you
will Anna, please, let me make this easier for you. Will
you do that for me dear? Let me help you?"
And that is how it begins with all my patients. I gain
their trust by empathizing with their condition and then
telling them that their well being is the center focus
of my entire life. Nothing else is as important to me as
they are. And everything that follows goes to support
this main premise, be it emotional, mental or physical
in nature.
In short, I seduce them, inspire them, and basically
make them fall in love with me. I cunningly play with
their minds and emotions until they are virtually
dependent on me for their entire well being. Once that
happens, they really have no choice but to fall in love
with me. I simply fuck with their minds and emotions
until their bodies follow shortly behind, like little
puppy dogs at the end of their Mistress's leash. And
with some patients I have literally done just that.
So I eagerly waited for Anna's response. Her reply would
determine if I had a chance with her or if this was just
one of those rare times that I would not be successful
and thus have to end this most promising relationship
before it even got started. And then it came.
"Ummm, yes, sure Lisa. You can help me. Thank you."
Excellent! The first hurdle was successfully executed.
Now came the test to see how fast I could take Anna down
that path of complete subservience to my will.
"Very good Anna." I replied with a happy sound in my
voice while I massaged her shoulders with my hands. Oh
it felt so good to feel her firm flesh at the beginning
of my domination of her.
"Now put your hands on top of that table! You can
transfer some of your weight to your arms and ease the
strain on your back and legs while I exam you."
Once more my voice was commanding and direct like a
dominating Mistress should be. But this time I threw in
a reason why I ordered her to do so. Again, it goes back
to my main premise. As long as I give my patients the
impression that what I am telling them to do is all for
their own good, then they will follow my commands
without question. Unless of course I hit upon a touchy
area.
Then I will follow it up with a tender and more caring
explanation that pulls at their emotions and reminds
them why I am there to begin with, which is to make them
better. Either way, sooner or later, I will reach a
point when an explanation is no longer needed. And THAT
will mark a major turning point. For then they will be
ready for more intimate commands and contact from me.
When Anna was in position I was ready for the next step.
I thought about pushing it a bit by doing it first and
then seeing if she would respond to it unfavorably. I
was so eager to get Anna under my dominating thumb that
I almost made just that kind of mistake. For it was
still too early in our relationship to push things. Not
to mention that the contract designating me as her
primary health care giver, among other things, had yet
to be signed. So I continued to play it by the rules and
take it slowly, one small step at a time. A small
investment now will pay off with big dividends in the
future.
"Anna, I am going to remove your bra and panties now. I
know you're a bit skittish about it, but I need to see
you completely nude in order for my examination of you
to be thorough and accurate. And that's what you want
from me my dear. To be thorough and accurate, correct?"
I then began stroking her silky smooth black hair, as if
we were very close caring friends. This was a big jump.
First off, she could easily respond that she would do it
herself. Which would tell me that I had a long way to go
in acclimating her to my will. On the other hand, if she
did allow me to remove her underwear, as well as to
continue stroking her hair like I was, then I would have
validated a very important first contact. Something that
I could rapidly build upon in conquering her spirit and
body in short order.
As I stood quietly behind her, petting her head, I could
feel "it" inside of her. Her hesitation in thinking it
over. Her inner conflict, between her mind and body. My
continued hair petting was reinforcing her body's desire
for more, and my clinical explanation of why I had to
remove her intimate covering was slowly appeasing any
arguments that her mind might have not to.
As the seconds clicked away I was wondering if I finally
made that dire connection of acceptance and trust that I
was so eagerly looking for with Anna. Then the answer
came.
A gentle nodding of her head yes. She could not bring
herself to say the words. For her mind was not to the
point of full acceptance yet. But this time her body
dominated her thoughts as she shook her head up and down
several times with increasing vigor.
I leaned over to Anna's ear and whispered "Good Girl"
and followed it with a light pat on her head. My GOD did
that feel good! Calling a full grown woman a petite
immature girl and then patting her on the head as if she
was a precious little pet was simply awesome for me!
This was my first true act of dominating Anna and I felt
it in all its glory. My body shuddered with a chill and
then it flashed white hot like an exploding star. The
experience was like anticipating a delicious ice cream
cone all day long during a scorching hot spell and then
finally having that first long savory lick of that sweet
melting cream. It's amazing how the most simple things
in life can mean so much, at the right time.
Given Anna's current trusting state I knew I could take
some liberties with her. Not that I would go wild with
my increasing lust for her and rip her bra and panties
clean off. Nor did I want to simply remove them as if
they were a pair of dirty socks either.
I was very gentle when I slowly slid my fingers over her
impressive back and under her bra strap. Then carefully,
I unhooked the two clasps that held it together. I let
the elastic guide my hands up and around Anna's back,
feeling the warmth of her firm flesh in the process.
More slowly now, I pushed the dangling white lingerie
off the top of her powerful shoulders and onto her arms.
I purposely did not pull the bra cups from her breasts,
even though I was dying to see their full rich symmetry
suspended in midair. The reason being was a simple one,
embarrassment.
We are all creatures of habit. A good part of our life
is in doing things that are routine and virtually
automatic, like putting on and taking off our clothes.
We may spend a certain amount of time in deciding what
to wear, or how it looks on us, once we put it on, but
rarely do we give a passing thought to the process of
putting it on or taking it off. That is, unless one is a
sleazy stripper. And that's how I wanted Anna to feel
like in my presents.
By having her bra straps dangling over her arms and it's
cups barely covering her breasts, I was forcing Anna to
be aware of her half dressed condition. Her normal
everyday routine was broken in mid-stride. And now she
was forced to deal with the uneasiness of her half
dressed, slutty situation. Oh she tried to use her hand
to remove her bra completely or to hold it close to her
body so the cups would not fall away. But as soon as I
saw her hand leave the table I quickly ordered a
commanding "NO!"
She stopped immediately and turned her head sharply in
my direction. I momentarily delighted in her positive
response to my authority. No doubt due to her athletic
training where her coaches would command her to perform
in a specific way. Any rebellion that she might have had
was wiped out of her a long time ago by those pseudo
Masters and Mistresses of sports. But again, we were in
the early dawn of our "special" relationship so to calm
her a bit I just explained to her that it would be
easier for her to keep herself supported with two hands
instead of one and the exam would only take a minute or
so.
There was a noticeable uneasiness when she put her hand
back on the table. Probably due to the fact that her bra
was covering only one of her breasts instead of two now.
I'm afraid that my curiosity got the better of me at
that point. For I quietly bent over at my waist and took
what was supposed to be a brief glance at what her
pendulous uncovered breast looked like.
Oh it was so beautiful! And it was just like the rest of
her too, perfect! Not too big, not too small, and it
literally made my mouth water. It hung out from her
slightly muscular chest so sedately in a natural firm
tear drop shape. There wasn't the least bit of flop or
droop in it what-so-ever.
My eyes began to squint as I looked long and hard at the
area under her breast where the curvature of her breast
met with her chest. I was looking for any semblance of
scaring in that particular area. Her breast looked so
superb that I wondered if the hand of man might have
played a small part in its exquisite artistic
appearance. But all I could see was smooth taught
seamless skin. Which meant her breasts had to be one
hundred percent natural.
My eyes almost bugged out of my head, when I saw her
excited nipple grow out long and hard. I can't tell you
how long it's been, since I've seen such a perfectly
matched set of nipples, aureoles and breasts before.
They were all so beautiful in their shape, symmetry and
proportion to one another.
Usually what I find in my patients is that some part of
them often offsets another, but not in Anna. I had no
choice but to turn my gaze immediately away. I was so
overwhelmed with what I saw that I knew that it was only
a matter of seconds before instinct, like my curiosity,
got the better of me and I would have Anna flat on the
floor with me on top of her. My hands grasping, mauling
and digging my fingers and nails into her perfect tender
breasts while my tongue, lips and teeth were doing
equally sweet sadistic things to her flawless perky
nipples.
I let her stay like that, bent over, while I regained my
sterile objective composure. I knew that for Anna the
seconds were ticking away like hours, for her facial
cheeks were beginning to take on that warm embarrassed
glow about them. At that point it was time for me to
act.
I slowly slipped my fingers between the elastic sides of
her panties and the top of her round womanly hips.
Immediately I could feel and see Anna's entire body go
rigid. She knew what was about to happen, and because
she had said nothing to stop me, I decided to take my
time with removing her panties.
Oh I so love a nice ass, maybe more so than a nice pair
of big fat tits. And Anna had one very fine derriere
too. Her panties, like her bra, was your standard
functional, no frills, white cotton. Since they lacked
any erotic appeal for me I found it necessary to get my
thrills in another way.
So I slowly began tugging and coaxing them down over her
cheeks. There was more than enough room to do this part
quite easily, but I wanted Anna's face to turn as red as
possible. So I stretched them wide from her hips and did
a little sea sawing back and forth across her plump rump
as if they were a size too small. Just like a stripper
would in order to get her drooling patrons to ogle her
most impressive butt.
With each fraction of an inch lower I took them, I could
see more and more of her delectable feminine tush. When
the rim of her panties was down below the crack of her
butt I could see a tan line begin to form. I have to
tell you that I was a little surprised by what was being
revealed to me. Here I thought Anna was your proverbial
straight arrow. A young woman with a determined fixed
interest in her studies and the Olympic dream. But what
was gradually unfolding before my eyes was the light
skinned shadow left from wearing a French Cut bathing
suit. Not quite the G-string up the crack of your ass
type, but definitely cheek revealing.
It was very hard for me not to giggle at the panoramic
view that was being unveiled before my eyes. Nor was it
easy for me to keep myself from grabbing a full chunk of
scrumptious ass meat when I had that elastic
strategically placed down under the clef of her butt
either. All I could do was to take a step back and just
stare at that gorgeous fleshy butt, framed so
artistically by her pristine white panties.
My mind was racing as to what I could do with such a
divine, well formed, virginal rear end like hers. I
began going through all the utensils I could use on it
once she became my willing slave. The paddles with their
large unforgiving areas, as they smacked audibly hard
against subtle feminine flesh. The sharp cracking noise
of a leather crop as it made those cute rectangular red
marks all over her sensitive burning cheeks.
The floggers, big and small, with their multiple whip
like tentacles making that heavy smacking sound across
her entire butt or one quivering cheek in particular.
And of course my hand. I began rubbing my fingers across
my palm in anticipation of the expected sting I would
feel from a good long spanking, knowing full well that
whatever unpleasantness I felt would be magnified a
hundred fold for poor sweet Anna.
It took a great deal of will power on my part not to
simply pinch her robust butt right then. But again, I
maintained my professional stature as I stepped back up
to Anna. I grabbed the sides of her panties once more
whose front was still covering her secret garden, and
then as fast as I could I yanked them straight down to
just below her knees before letting them go with a
smack.
I can still hear the sudden loud gasp that Anna made
when I did that. It was so precious. It seemed to
reflect both surprise and relief at the same time.
Surprise, in it being totally unexpected, and relief, in
that she too wanted me to do that to her. She longed for
someone like me, an aggressive demanding and powerful
sadistic lesbian, to take control like that and expose
her sexy furry patch of intimate femininity in one quick
jerk. Or at least that's how I interpreted it.
But I just could not believe my luck! Anna simply
remained there, bent over, with her hands on the table
and her arms straight as rails supporting her upper
body. And not a single note of astonishment, anger, or
even a simple questioning "why". Nothing at all echoed
from those two sensuous pouting lips of hers.
But questions were forming in my mind though. Was her
athletic training that intense and controlling so as to
condition her to the will of practically any authority
figure? Could she be that self-disciplined and focused
in her life that once she agreed to do something, then
there would be no turning back until it was
accomplished, no matter what it was? Could she be in
fact a true, deeply ingrained, latent submissive? A
submissive who only now with my expert help, could
safely let go and fully explore her deepest darkest
desires?
The questions kept coming faster and faster, one after
the other until I finally had to say 'ENOUGH' to myself.
The questions and their answers were all superfluous.
The only thing of importance that mattered was that Anna
was remaining in the position I had put her in. That,
and the strong feeling of positive expectations that was
enveloping me right then. An expectancy that whatever
the future was going to bring to both Anna and myself,
it would be "I", not Anna, that would determine if we
both experienced it or not.
But something very bizarre happened to me right after
that. It happened while I was looking at Anna's lower
back. For some strange reason I did not see a bent over
nude slut with her panties bunched up around her knees
and her bra hanging haphazardly from her arms and one
tit. What I saw was a young beautiful woman with an
undaunted desire to be whole again. To experience her
lifelong dream of standing on the highest step with a
gold medal resting upon her chest with pride. And a
severely damaged back that would never allow her dream
to come to pass.
I felt so sorry for her. The damage went beyond muscle
and tendons, which was beyond my capabilities or for
that matter anyone's ability, to put back as it once
was. Oh I could make her better all right. I had no
doubt about that. But to put her back like she was, like
she wanted, like she longed for? There was just no way.
Fate can be such a cruel mistress sometimes.
Oh my heart went out to the poor girl. Did you hear me
say that? My HEART went out to her! My god, I was
actually falling in love with her. I could not believe
it, not then, not even now. How could such a thing
happen to me? Never, I mean NEVER, did I have a deeply
heartfelt emotional experience with any of my patients
before. They were all simply about sex, domination and
my desire to reek sadistic pleasure from their agonizing
flesh. But with Anna it was different. It had to be
something along the lines of love at first sight,
uncontrollable infatuation, kismet, my ultimate fantasy
coming true, or all of them at once.
Yea, that's it! It was all those things coming together
at once. It had to be. I had always thought those
moronic clichés and trite catchwords, were for fools and
romantics, which I considered myself immune to. But
never- the-less, it had to be true. The longer I stared
at her disfigured back, the more compassion, empathy and
yes, LOVE I was feeling for her. It was no longer just
an act for me. To pretend that my patient was the well
spring from which my life flowed so I could turn them
into my very own masochistic sex slave. It was real! And
I was hooked!
Oh it was all so ironic, me loving Anna. And that was so
very, very bad too. Because one never hurts the one they
love. I know, I know, more pathetic trite and romantic
dribble, but it's still true.
Ha Ha Ha, the Sadistic Bitch in White was hit by Cupid's
arrow and presto! She had became a moon struck romantic.
All those ideas I had of tormenting Anna, making her
suffer, painfully, at my hand. While at the same time
gorging myself in one gut wrenching orgasm after another
at her expense. They all went for naught now. Oh yes,
FATE can be a cruel mistress indeed. But, Fate can be a
delightful conniving bitch as well.
I stood there just looking upon Anna's back and seeing
those long ugly painful scars running down it. Normally
that sort of thing would make me feel a twinge of
excitement and a desire to finger myself, but not this
time. All I wanted to do was to take Anna in my arms,
comfort her, kiss her, caress those hideous ridges of
skin ever so gently, and to make them all go magically
away for her. Oh GOD did I have it bad!
I did walk up to her and actually touched them with my
fingers. To which Anna instantly jerked forward. Mostly
out of surprise, but also because my hand was so cold. I
even felt bad with myself for not taking the time to
warm my hands up ahead of time before causing her such
discomfort. Oh I was one pathetic love sick puppy back
then.
I don't know how I did it, what with this new romantic
crush coursing through my soul. But once more I kept my
professional persona intact. I told her that it was
necessary for me to touch her some more, so that I could
perform my examination, and for her to please remain
still. Then I began to really touch her in earnest. I
couldn't help myself!
For a good long while my hands never left her exquisite
female body. Touching her, stroking her and yes I was
even fondling and caressing her. I was spending an
incredible amount of time in areas that had nothing to
do with where she was hurt. Those very same intimate
areas that I love to touch so much on a full ripen
woman's body like Anna's, and all under the guise of it
being a necessary part of the examination.
I was now using the same excuses for my new loving
advances as I once did with my old sadistic ones, And
all during my loving exploration Anna remained in
position. Only a faint little moan or groan would flow
from her cute passionate lips now and then.
My force of will prevailed once more as I stopped any
further intimate advances with my precious Anna. I then
wrapped one arm around Anna's chest and the other around
her waist. I drew myself close to her with our bodies
touching in a warm hug. I whispered softly in her ear
that the examination was over with and that I was going
to help her back up. Her head flinched a bit when she
felt my hot moist breath on her sexy ear.
I could still feel the uneasiness in her body as I
slowly pulled us both up to a standing position. Her
soft fragrant hair accidently whipped across my face as
she tried to turn her head back enough to face me and
whispered a thank you in return. With my arms still
around her, hugging her tightly, longer than what would
have been perceived as being normal, I finally did bring
myself to set my precious Anna free.
She quickly collected her clothes and put them on as
fast as she could. Again, I felt the pull on my heart
strings as I watched her dress with great difficulty
from the pain that she felt in accomplishing that simple
task. I began wondering if this new loving relationship
thing had a chance of working out now. Oh I knew I would
find a way for Anna to return my love alright, both
spiritually and physically. I was just unsure what to do
about my sadistic urges that's all.
I have learned a long time ago that trying to ignore
them was a useless endeavor. It only made my life
difficult and very frustrating to live. I knew that sex
with Anna would eventually be good and satisfying, but I
also knew that I would soon want more. No, I didn't
"want" more, I "demanded" more! Much more than just
satisfaction. I wanted sublime ecstasy, and by god I was
going to get it too! But not with my precious Anna.
To say that I was in a frustrated quandary would be an
severe understatement. Briefly I even thought about
leaving Anna and trying again with another victim I mean
patient. But I loved her. I wanted to be with her,
always. I wanted to hold her, to cuddle up under a warm
blanket with her, to laugh and cry with her, to live
life to its fullest with her. But how? Unless...
Then in a flash it came to me! Remember when I said that
Fate can be a conniving bitch, as well as a cruel
mistress?"
A voice that remained quiet for a very long time finally
answered quietly back. "Yes."
"Well, that sweet femme fatale was beginning to smile
right down on me. She was giving me the most luscious
idea that I ever had, and exactly at the time I needed
it the most too. An idea that would satiate my most
darkest sadistic desires to the max! All those times
when I wanted to go one step further with my patients,
but decided not to because it was too extreme, too
painful or far too humiliating for them to endure, I was
going to be totally free to indulge myself in. I had
found a way to have my cake and eat it too, all of it! I
was going to drink deep from the cup of appalling
inhuman desires until I was a fully inebriated blissful
sadistic bitch in white! But, it would not be with my
dear sweet Anna. Oh no! She would definitely not be the
lab rat to which I would experiment on in bringing my
toe curling demonic fantasies into erotic flesh
pleasuring reality. Oh no, not with her."
The once silent voice across from Lisa made a long soft
exhale. The voice knew what Lisa was waiting for,
conformation. And it was important for the voice to
answer her correctly too so the rest of the ghastly tale
could be told in its uninhibited entirety. So the voice
took a deep breath, held it in for a second and then
gave Lisa her needed affirmation.
"It was to be with Martha, wasn't it Lisa?"
"YES! That poor excuse for a coach and spotter. The one
who failed Anna when she needed her the most. The one
responsible for my precious Anna's less than whole
existence. Martha would be the recipient of my glorious
orgasmic wrath, to atone for her horrible sins with her
very living flesh if need be! And do you want to know
what the most cunning part of my idea was?"
The voice responded without a single bit of emotion in
it.
"Yes."
"The very best part of it was, that Anna would be the
hand from which Martha was going to suffer the most
appetizing and agonizing pains of hell from. I, yes "I",
MISTRESS LISA, the "Sadistic Bitch in White" would be
the creative genius, the inspiring artist, and the
strategic planner to which Anna, my loving instrument,
would work my will through. I would be the Sorceress and
Anna would be my dutiful apprentice. Under my guidance
we would both bring Martha to her knees, begging and
pleading with tears in her eyes for mercy. And our
response to her pathetic tormented existence would only
be more of the same. Oh how sweet revenge will be. For
Anna and I."
The voice pondered for a moment. A decision had to be
made. To continue now or tomorrow? The voice needed some
time for itself. To take in what had already transpired.
To revitalize its own inner self. And to prepare itself
for what was waiting for it tomorrow. So the voice made
the decision.
"Let's stop here and continue tomorrow. Is that ok with
you Lisa?"
"If you wish. I guess I could use the rest even though
I'm too keyed up right now. So then, I will see you
again tomorrow, in the morning, right Doctor?"
"Yes Lisa, first thing tomorrow morning will be fine.
Have a pleasant night's rest and remember to buzz the
nurse if you need anything. Good night Lisa."
"Good night Doctor."
And as Lisa cozied up under the covers of the hospital
bed, Doctor Rosalyn Bridgestone left the room with her
notebook in hand.
Doctor Bridgestone was about to call it a day when she
decided to quickly look in on one more patient before
going home. This patient was in another wing of the
hospital, but directly on her way back to her office.
The walk was not too far, down a couple flights of
stairs and a little ways along a narrow zigzagging
corridor. When she came to a jail like gate she removed
a plastic card with its embossed magnetic strip from the
pocket of her long white lab coat and swiped it through
the designated slot. A green light came on indicating
she had the proper high ranking credentials to enter.
A moment later a loud audible hum came on and the high
tech lock opened. She pushed the massive iron gate
forward and continued on through. The gate would close
by itself. And when the heavy metal slammed up against
itself, the power holding the lock opened was
immediately shut off engaging the lock again with a
bang. But Doctor Bridgestone made no indication of even
hearing it, let alone being startled by it. It had all
become old hat for her now after spending several
decades working and now running the behavioral
department of this hospital.
She walked about two thirds down the wide hallway,
stopped and looked through a small unbreakable window
mounted in a white steel door. On the other side of the
door was a room with Doctor Bridgestone's other patient
in it.
The patient was in what a lay-person would call the
proverbial padded room. She was wrapped in a tight
undersized straight jacket. Her arms and hands were
safely hidden away in its long white sleeves that kept
her forever hugging herself. About her legs was a form
fitting ankle length skirt without the sexy slit up the
side. It too was made from the same hospital issued
heavy white canvas material like her upper wrap was.
Both specially designed garments were held in place by
several comfortable but inescapable brown leather straps
with a fashionable padded piping along their top and
bottom edges.
A rather interesting brown strap arrangement, more like
a harness, was fastened about her head. It's dominant
feature was a wide leather strap stretched taught across
her mouth and buckled tightly behind her head. A myriad
of smaller straps emanated from it in various strategic
places that seemed to cover her face, head and blonde
matted hair in a tight web like design. Their purpose
was simple, to keep her mouth guard muzzle tightly in
place until someone wanted to remove it.
The patient was sitting on the spongy white floor with
her back resting up against the spongy white wall. She
was staring, in earnest, up at the white door and in
particular at the small mirrored glass inside of it near
its top. She seemed passive and under control, but her
breathing through her nose was strong, fast, and deep,
like an athlete during a workout.
The only movement that she made, other than the
occasional eye blink, came from her bare feet poking out
from the bottom of her white and brown striped cocoon.
They were both moving back and forth in a kind of midair
taping motion, but doing so at an incredible fast rate
like from a mindless, nervous twitch. Obviously she had
a tremendous amount of energy wrapped up inside of her
and this was the only way she could find to relieve it.
The Doctor looked long and hard at the bound and gagged
woman, just like a spider would at its recently captured
and packaged prey. Her sober expression was slowly
turning into one of unexpected happiness. A big open
smile with eyes full of joy made the change in her
spirit complete. She began shaking her head from side to
side as if in total disbelief as to what Fate had just
laid before her, literally at her very feet. She began
to speak in a soft reflected tone directly to the woman
on the other side of the one way mirror. Words that her
patient could not possibly hear.
"Well, well, well, it looks like we meet again. Don't
we, my DEAR FRIEND Martha!" She labored out loud with
gut wrenching anger and vengeance on those two words
that seemed to stick in her craw. Two words that meant
exactly the opposite from what she now felt raging
through her soul. And for a brief moment Martha's feet
stopped moving as if she heard her. Then again they
quickly went back to their rapid blurring air dance.
A minute or so passed, just enough time for the good
doctor to regain her objective composure. Then she
continued with her self-enlightening talk once more in a
nonchalant tone that didn't last long.
"I do believe Lisa was right. Fate can be both a cruel
mistress and a conniving bitch. And I know you would
agree with her too, wouldn't you, my DEAR FRIEND
MARTHA!"
Part 2: The Dark Art
"LISA!" A surprised and noticeably irritated Doctor
Bridgestone exclaimed when she seen Lisa out of her bed
and in the mitts of doing some sort of exercise.
"What on earth are you doing out of bed? You know you
experienced some very serious internal injuries as a
result of the accident. So you need to stay in bed and
heal first. Now get back into bed young lady before I
call an attendant."
Lisa closed her eyes and gave a pathetic audible sigh
like a daughter confronted with an over protected
mother. She put her hand to her side where the bandages
covered the stitches and slowly walked back to her bed.
Her contorted facial features atoned to how painful the
short trip was.
"The nurse did say it was all right for me to leave the
bed if I had to. Besides, I am a nurse too you know. And
who is the best to judge my body's capabilities other
than me Doctor Bridgestone?"
Lisa was true to her independent form. Even though she
liked Doctor Rosalyn Bridgestone, and her added motherly
concern, she never-the-less was her own woman. A woman
who never took too kindly to others bossing her around.
"Yes, I know Lisa. But your leaving the bed was in
reference to you going to the bathroom only. Not doing
some ritual martial arts exercises." The Doctor helped
Lisa back into bed and then placed the covers over her
making sure she was well tucked in. Rosalyn could not
help playing the role of the concerned motherly adult
even though she was a divorced woman in her 50's who
never had children.
"It was Tai Chi Doctor Bridgestone." Lisa made the point
of saying it to the doctor in a clear forthright voice
just to clarify the point.
The doctor finished tucking Lisa in and then took her
normal place off to the side in a chair next to the
window. She opened her notebook and began writing her
standard preliminary notations with regards to the
patient at hand. Once finished she continued her
conversation with Lisa.
"So, it was Tai Chi. Does eastern philosophy interest
you in particular Lisa?"
"A little, but mostly from the health oriented aspect.
That is why I am so successful in what I do. I combine
both western and eastern forms of medicine into my own
eclectic version. It's a shame that the majority of
western medicine is based solely on drugs and surgery.
It can be quite contemptuous at times you know. Not that
the mystic ways of the east have all the answers either.
It's only through the blending of the two that the vast
majority of my patients show mark improvement, almost
boarding on a full recovery."
"And this is what you used on Anna?"
"Yes, once she signed the contract."
The woman doctor looked upon Lisa with confusion.
"What exactly do you mean by contract? I know of consent
forms and other legal documents that defray liability,
but I never heard of a contract in the health care
profession. Please, tell me more."
"It's something I had specially drawn up for me. It
covers what you have already mentioned regarding
liability. It also covers various areas of particular
concern to me like payment, expenses, living in their
home and therapy prognosis, which I never sugar coat.
And finally there is a small part that allows me to
virtually take over their lives completely for the
duration of my stay."
The doctor was troubled by how nonchalant Lisa was is
saying that last part as if it were just another item on
a grocery list.
"Now wait a minute Lisa. That "small part" sounds
awfully like power of attorney and legal guardianship.
And your patients, Anna included, actually sign this
contract of yours? I find it hard to believe that it
would stand up under judicial prudence."
Oh yes, they do indeed sign it. Don't forget, I'm
usually their last hope and people will do almost
anything when they are at the end of their rope. And I
never lie to them either. I'm always up front as to what
they can expect from me, health wise. There really is no
need for me to lie to them anyway. They do it to
themselves.
Once they hear me say that I can make them better, their
minds quickly fill in the gap between "being better" and
"being like before". They can't help it really. These
women are use to giving one hundred and ten percent in
everything they do. They think of themselves as wonder
women, way beyond the norm of the general masses. So
whatever limitations of reality I put on their
prognosis, they simply right it off for the average
woman and not relevant to them. They can be quite
arrogant in this respect.
As to the contract being completely legal, well,
probably not. But many prenuptial contracts are based on
mutual agreements that would never hold up in court
either and yet both parties willingly sign them.
Basically it's just something for me to wave before
their eyes when their fantasy for a complete
rejuvenation begins to crumble."
"And those women go ahead and sign the contract without
the least bit of trepidation?"
"No, not really. But close to it. They do balk a little
when they find out how much control I will have over
their lives. But they definitely know what their getting
into. At this point their options are pretty much null
and void for them. Besides, for these types of women the
ends really do justify the means. And Anna was no
different."
"So when Anna signed that contract what happened next?"
"Before the inked dried her life became an extension of
my will. I controlled it all. What and when she ate,
slept, exercised, rest, therapy, etc, etc, etc. Oh it
really is quite dramatic. I'm practically a drill
sergeant in a white nurses uniform and they are my
recruits on their first day in boot camp. But with Anna
it was a little different because of my love for her. So
a good deal of what I normally would have done was cut
back considerably. But like I said yesterday, I had an
even greater plan to focus on."
The doctor was amazed at the sudden change in Lisa's
whole psyche after that last comment. It was as if she
quickly picked up from where she left off the day
before. Her eyes became wide as she focused on something
out in the distance. Her facial expression took on an
energized and euphoria glow. And her body started to
move in an uneasy nervousness under the covers.
The doctor was busy writing as fast as she could all
that she was observing. And to give her more time she
quickly asked Lisa to explain her plan again.
"It was an exciting plan doctor. I can't tell you enough
how it made me feel. It was like an Epiphany, a true
religious experience. Well maybe not that strong, unless
of course one's deity has come from the underworld of
fire and brimstone." Lisa monetarily looked over at the
doctor with a humorous smile on her face. But when the
doctor did not bother to acknowledge her little quip she
simply continued on.
"But it was a very moving experience for me. And it was
all right there before me too, complete from start to
finish in my mind's eye. With the most important step in
the whole operation being the easiest one to accomplish.
That being to make Anna aggressively hate Martha to the
point of doing whatever nasty thing I tell her to do to
her.
I couldn't believe how easy that part was going to be.
Because it's always been a significant part of my
therapy program anyway. I believe your profession calls
it "transference". I, myself, like to think of it as
conjuring up an escape goat. For you see, my therapy
always causes a great deal of agitation in my patients
lives, both physically and emotionally. There's simply
no way around it. Otherwise I would never be in this
honorable profession to begin with. And in the
beginning, when my patient's enthusiasm is at its crest,
I use it to my benefit. And Anna was no exception.
Anna had bought an estate on the out skirts of the
college so she could be around a familiar setting to
keep her Olympic dream alive. The estate itself was far
more land than house and fairly secluded with a tall
brick fence and an impressive ornate iron gate at the
entrance. She found she could run the entire place with
a single maid and one grounds keeper, or handy man if
you will.
As soon as she signed the contract I fired them both. I
then hired a married couple that I use to do the same
thing. You see, I need total control with my patients
and that includes controlling the hired help as well.
The team I use are very loyal to me and because they are
foreigners they speak only a little English. This makes
it hard for any alliances to be formed between them and
my patients, including Anna.
Next on the list is a detailed daily regimen. It defines
sleep patterns, therapy sessions, workouts, rest
periods, meal times, everything in a 24/7 time span. The
only free time I gave Anna was three hours a day, one
hour for the morning, afternoon and evening. And in this
she had to spend on her estate without outside contact.
It's exactly like boot camp and then some. I needed to
control every single parameter of my patients lives,
every item, every force, every minute detail in order to
reach the desired results.
I guess from your perspective it sounds like something
right out of a concentration camp. But Anna and all my
former athletic patients are use to having their lives
guided by others. In fact, there is a certain degree of
safety and security in following such a well ordered
plan that feeds and nurtures them to perfection. The
only difference was that the lifestyle I chiseled out in
stone for them was all encompassing, if not totally
consuming for them. Even for my dear precious Anna.
Once the itinerary was set down it was a simple matter
of getting Anna to follow it. Again, in the beginning,
it's always easy. Anna's fanaticism for the prospects of
regaining her Olympic dream was like a shot of
adrenaline to her system. She was all gun hoe and ready
to follow my orders whatever they were.
So we began with her diet. To a "T", all my patients
have put on weight. With their normal routine broken due
to physical problems and the stress that develops as a
result of their changed lives, my patients cannot help
but put on a few pounds here and there, and sometimes it
is substantial. Anna had this problem too. Not that she
was blatantly fat, but only because of her lower back
problem. Her bottom half began to reflected that full
pear shape characteristic of most women living an arm
chair existence.
I always put my patients on a total vegetarian, low fat,
low sugar and no more than 500 calories a day diet. It
sounds pretty drab and severe, but the woman who cooks
for me does an excellent job of making each abbreviated
meal very tasty as well as nutritious.
A few vitamin supplements are added to make up any
critical lost in any particular area. And I have to
practically forced my patients to drink vast quantities
of pure distilled water throughout the day. My goal was
to tear my patients down, literally right to the bone,
before I build them back up again into a strong lean
submissive love mate.
Then along with the diet, I require them to undergo
colonics. Twice a day for the first week, then once a
day for the following week, and finally once a week
after that. In a way I really enjoy giving them an
enema.
On the one hand, it's a fast way to remove the
impurities that fill their drugged up toxic bodies. Then
on the other hand, it feeds my need to sadistically
dominate them. There is nothing more embarrassing or
humiliating than having to expose one's most private
orifice to another, and then have them diddle around
with it. The degree of degradation one feels literally
goes off the charts. And I take full advantage of it too
by prolonging it as long as I can.
Which means I have the enema solution drip very slowly
into them, taking almost an hour sometimes. Then I tell
them how necessary it is for them to hold it for awhile.
And to help them with this, I use a special cone shape
nozzle with a shut-off valve built right inside of it.
All I have to do is to pull out the tube from the nozzle
and nothing comes out. They are then free to move around
if they wish. Or I should say, if they can.
Oh it delights me to no end to watch them twist and turn
with great discomfort. Hearing them moan and groan as
wave after cramping wave hit their bloated bowels. But I
do try to help them out too, with words of encouragement
and some soothing body massages with my matching rubber
gloves. Oh I do so love the feel of rubber. And when I
give my patients their enemas it is an opportune time
for me to wear my very fashionable rubber nurse's
outfit."
The doctor immediately stopped writing and looked up
over the rim of her glasses.
"Did you say "a rubber nurse's outfit" Lisa?"
"Oh yes! And it's so cute too. It's a standard old
fashioned white nurses uniform with a long flowing skirt
that comes down to my ankles. It has long billowy
sleeves with a full bib apron trimmed in red with little
red crosses on it. It even has an adorable white rubber
nurses hat with a single red cross in the center of it
too. And underneath I wear a very sexy black rubber bra
and garter belt outfit with matching hip high rubber
hose too. The next best thing to wearing a fashionable
rubber uniform is how it sounds when I move. Mmmmmmm,
all those crinkling and crackling sounds it makes has
such a sensuous erotic effect on me."
"And your patients have no objections to your rather...
overt fetish?"
"Oh heavens no! They do look at me kind of weird when
they see me like that for the first time. But since they
are completely nude and I am wearing a uniform of some
authority they seem to take on a rather passive demure
about the whole thing. Besides, when they are aching
something terribly from having their abdomen distended
out as if they were five months pregnant the last thing
on their minds is why I am wearing a kinky fetish
outfit.
"But their discomfort does allow me to touch them in a
very pleasing way. Like along their soft smooth arms and
legs, over and around their firm bloated bellies and I
can even caress their tender naked breasts. And in some
strange way, I do believe the rubber plays a significant
part in allowing me this physical intimacy as well. It
acts as a kind of buffer as to make such "familiar"
contact less an act of girl to girl love making and more
of a clinical nurse and patient experience. But it's
really all a play on words. Whatever illusion they wish
to believe, it's still comes down to it being our very
first lesbian encounter."
Doctor Bridgestone was making note upon note in her
book. She was finding Lisa's method of operation more
and more fascinating with each new revealing event.
"So after the colonics what happens next Lisa?"
"After that comes the exercises, massages and
acupuncture treatments. The exercises start off slowly,
mostly simple stretching. I need to find their baseline
before I can really push them. In the beginning, I will
also stretch and exercise with them, making sure they
copy my moves precisely. Then I will just watch them
perform by themselves while I orchestrate the sequence.
During these later times I am right there next to them.
So close that they can feel my hot breath on their soft
feminine skin."
"Does that mean you, they, exercise in the nude Lisa?" A
note of quiet disbelief was in the doctor's voice.
"Oh No! Not at first anyway. I need to acclimate them to
that point slowly. So we exercise with standard workout
clothes. I have this other cute little nurse's outfit
that I simply love to wear for this occasion. It has a
pair of white hot pants with red crosses over the
pockets and a white halter top with two more red crosses
over the breast area. Then I accessorize it with my
little white nurse's cap and white tennis shoes, both
sporting the red cross signature of my profession. It's
only after the first week when the patients have really
become familiar with the training program that I insist
that they forgo any clothes and do their exercises in
the nude. I explain to them that it is necessary for me
to see how their muscles react to the various stretching
and pulling techniques that they are doing. Then after a
day or two watching their sexy muscles bulge and
elongate I begin to touch them. Again under the veil of
it being medically necessary. You can't believe how
exciting and pleasurable it is to feel their moving
muscles and tight tendons under soft smooth skin. But it
is kind of funny in a way."
"Oh, how so Lisa?"
"I have become so sensitive to the simple act of
touching that I can readily tell how nervous they are by
simply feeling their flesh. A sudden jerk upon first
contact, a benign shrug of a shoulder as I slowly rub my
hands up and down their backs, and then the little
muscle spasms I feel when I caress a tender sensitive
spot like around their ribs or under the folds of their
breasts.
"Not to mention those other areas like behind their
knees and along the inside of their thighs, or simply
around their ears were a tender lover would spend the
longest time exploring those sensitive spiraling
surfaces with her tongue. You would never know it, but
it takes several days with me examining them like this
before they finally lose their aversion to my touch.
Except for Anna though."
"Oh! Did she take longer?"
"No, quite the contrary. It only took her two days
before her flesh was as calm as can be when I caressed
her so lovingly. With hind sight, I think it might have
been the massage therapy that helped out in this
respect. But then again, how could it not. After a long
laborious day of exercises, who wouldn't respond to a
period of gentle manipulation of their sore tired flesh
with scented oils. And then hearing in a lover's whisper
a series of reinforcing messages telling them that they
were getting better and better with each successive day
while soft romantic music played on in the background.
Little by little I was imposing myself on them, on Anna.
If not with my hot yearning flesh upon theirs, then with
my tender words of inspiring adulation. Within a mere
few weeks time I was able to touch Anna's labia lips
ever so gently and caress her breasts and nipples as a
lover would with her lips and tongue.
And then after a full month had gone by, when Anna was
looking very much the reborn phoenix, I was literally
able to tickle her clitoris at will, masturbating her to
the brink of orgasm. But I never let her cum. I wanted
her to ask for it, to beg me for it! Once she did that
then I knew I had her as my lesbian lover for all time."
"So then that proved your theory that Anna was really a
latent homosexual, lesbian if you will, correct?"
"Well, not exactly. Anna was responding very well to my
intimate touch. I just loved to hear her coo and groan
as I wound her up, sexually, like a child's toy. But she
never asked me to let her go all the way. And Anna still
had a problem with giving back to me what she passively
received. Her inhibitions were very strong in that
respect. Several times I just about had to force her to
touch me. And only under the excuse that I was showing
her, on my body, what I was looking to develop in hers.
But even in that she was very sheepish in going too far
with her touch on me. Oh I knew I had my work cut out
for me all right."
"And what about the acupuncture? Was that part of your
therapy or primarily for your own sadistic desires?"
Doctor Bridgestone was pushing it with that question.
Especially the way she said the last part as if she was
sitting in negative judgment of her. But what she was
really doing was testing Lisa, as to how comfortable she
was with her sadistic nature.
From listening to her talk she felt Lisa was very at
easy with her abnormal sexuality. Thus if Lisa balked at
her "between the lines" negative implication, or took
out right direct issue with her, than Doctor Bridgestone
would know that there was a small part inside of Lisa's
psyche that was not all that comfortable with her
blatant acceptance of hurting young women for her own
sexual arousal. The good doctor figured that a person
who was content with whom and what they are would give
little credence to what other people thought, even
doctors like her.
"Well, both really. There is no doubt that acupuncture
does have therapeutic applications, as any of my
patients would testify to. But I have to admit, each
time I stick them with a needle, and especially when
their eyes scrunch up in pain as they gasp and groan as
I push and turn that long dagger like needle deeper and
deeper into their tender flesh, I do get a very arousing
sensation from it. To be honest, it is quite a rewarding
experience for both myself and patients. I in the short
fall from being sexually excited, and my patients in the
long fall from receiving significant better health."
The doctor wrote three short words off to the side of
her book and then circled them twice, "A true Sadist!"
Then a thought came to her mind.
"Lisa, didn't you say that it was difficult for you to
cause Anna, your... "precious love" I believe you called
her, any kind of physical or emotional pain because you
were so much in love with her? If that is so, then how
did you reconcile all these embarrassing, humiliating
and sadistic pleasures you took from her, causing her so
much physical and mental torment while still claiming to
be in love with her?"
"Oh it was very hard for me Doctor Bridgestone! Very
hard indeed! The acupuncture alone caused me much dismay
that I was actually empathizing with her discomfort.
Several times I caught myself making faces and emitting
sounds that were in line with being on the receiving end
of those long pointed needles. It took great strength on
my part in order to get through those times with my
precious Anna. And you know where I found that strength
Doctor Bridgestone?"
The woman doctor was keenly interested in finding out if
Lisa was truly in love with Anna. A love so deep and so
over powering that Lisa was actually content in
replacing her natural sadistic sexuality with that which
reflected pure romantic love.
"Where Lisa?"
"I found the strength from Anna herself. Within the
short time I knew her, I could easily recognize that she
was an exceptional individual. Her stead fast
perseverance to her cause, her complete and total faith
in me, and all those people who promised her the world
and then broke that promise. She continued to have no
ill will towards anyone. Not even that evil bitch
Martha. The one who caused her demise and robbed her of
her Olympic dream in the first place.
Anna was the source of my strength Doctor Bridgestone,
as well as my love. Whatever period of humiliation,
embarrassment and yes pain I had to cause in my beloved
Anna, I knew it was for a greater good. I knew that once
Anna came to realize that her Olympic dream was over it,
she would need a new goal, a new direction, a new
passion in life to replace it. For if none was there,
then I knew she would be devastated beyond all hope.
That's why she needed me to show her the way. To show
her that love and hate were not just the opposite sides
of the same coin with its socially idealistic good-bad
connotation.
I wanted to show her how to love for simply love's sake.
To love me, to please me, another woman, sexually, as I
was so willingly to do for her. But I also wanted to
open her eyes to a new world as well. To love to hate
with equal passion. I wanted to show her how to cause
pain in others and be moved erotically by it without
regret, without empathy and without remorse.
I wanted to show her the delicious arousing pleasure in
seeing another woman suffer in pure emotional torment.
And above all, I wanted to see her embrace her new found
sadistic lust with all her being as she successfully
transforms her most hated enemy into a simple
masochistic lesbian fuck toy. And that is where Martha
came into the equation."
Doctor Bridgestone had just finished writing another
cryptic note in her book and then stared at the page
full of her scribbling that only she could read. Another
question formed in her mind, but she already knew the
answer. She knew it because she was coming to know what
made Lisa tick deep down inside. But she still had to
ask it, for scientific and professional reasons.
"So this is where everything comes together. Anna's
transition from one life quest to another. Practically a
rebirth in Anna's entire personality actually. Martha's
part as the training aid for Anna's blossoming new
passion as well as the recipient of all your own
limitless sadistic dreams and desires. And then the
method of "transference" as you called it, that would
start the whole ball rolling if you will. It all begins
with a single event, Anna's enlightenment that her
Olympic dream is no more."
Lisa looked upon the doctor with a big open smile and
twinkling eyes.
"Why yes Doctor! That's absolutely correct! I was
wondering if you were really paying attention to me
while you were diligently writing god knows what in that
book of yours. I am very impressed!"
Doctor Bridgestone gave a small brief smile in return.
"Could you elaborate a bit more in that transference
method you mentioned?"
"Sure, of course doctor. It really is quite simple as
you will soon see. As I said before, in the beginning
it's very easy. My patients enthusiasm is at a high and
I start off really slow. I relate to them not only as
their medical therapist and personal trainer, but as
their closest dearest friend on earth. I inspire them to
always give their best with no holding back. Over and
over again I tell them why they are doing this. So it
basically becomes a ritual or a mantra with them.
"With each successive increase in repetition, in speed
and in endurance, I act as if it was a grand
accomplishment with lots of verbal congratulations and
eager fondling. The more mile stones transverse the more
passionate our celebration becomes. And the more
controlling and demanding I become too.
"Their growing positive results blind them to how much
"I" have changed in the process. A change that demands
them to do more, to last longer and to be the virtual
instrument of my will. I almost literally take on the
persona of a military drill sergeant with bold
dominating body language thrown in as the icing on the
cake. This is the part I love the most. For it allows my
sadistic side to come out in full regalia.
"I can taunt them, belittle them and yes, I can even
physically abuse them if I wish with a slap here, a poke
there and even a grasp, squeeze and twist on any body
part I so desire. My voice is harsh and rises in volume,
my words mock and sting their fragile ego's, and my
touch is no longer one of tender compassion. I smack,
grasp and pull on their flesh to motivate them. No
longer do I choose the carrot approach, it is now time
for the stick. And I do use one too, all be it in the
form of a riding crop.
"It's all so utterly amazing in a way. How they come to
accept my sadistic domination of them as part of their
therapy. Even Anna followed suit just like all the rest.
Although I was much less aggressive in her case. But it
didn't matter though, for they all lead to the same end,
like it or not."
"Which is?"
"Sooner or later they all plateau out. They reach a
level where their physical rebirth has peaked. For them
to train any longer or anymore vigorously would be more
of a step back then forward. The bad news for them is
that they are far from reaching their desired goal,
which was to be like they once were."
"Then what happens Lisa."
"Then it really becomes a mind game. Up to this point it
has been a simple exercise in mind over matter. The
psychological motivation I instill in them is enough for
them to persevere through the most ruthless therapy
sessions I can put them through. But once they
recognized that they have reached the final plateau in
their development, they begin to change. They begin to
see the reality of their situation and they don't like
it one bit! And as a result, they start to see me in a
new light and thus I become the bad guy now.
"So now I'm the one who is causing them all the pain and
heart break. Which is not totally untrue, but they see
me as the "initial cause" of their turn-about in life as
well. Their total devastation from realizing that they
will never be like they were is overwhelming for them,
and it clouds their powers of reason and judgment. It
makes them lash out at whoever is causing them pain at
the moment. Which of course is me."
"Ohhh, I see. This is where the transference takes over
then."
"Yes! All I have to do is to reroute all those nasty
feelings they have towards me to someone else. And once
I regain my position as their best friend and devoted
lover in life, my complete domination over them is all
downhill from that point on. And there is always someone
else to blame. Be it a parent, a sibling, a friend, a
brief negative encounter with a stranger, whomever,
there is always someone there. I just have to dig deep
enough into their psyche to find that one individual for
them to focus all manner of hellish wrath upon and the
hardest part is now done."
"And for Anna that would be Martha, correct?"
"YES! Once I found that escape goat then it's time for
me to work my magic again. Just like before, I am their
closest and dearest friend. I empathize with their pain
and anguish in not obtaining their desired goal. But I
tell them that I am not the one they should be angry
with. For it was I, and I alone, who always told them
the truth. Who worked with them diligently to improve
their physical health a hundred fold. And who loves them
in all that they are and ever will be. Then I remind
them who actually caused them to be in this situation to
begin with, and that's when the transference takes
place. The escape goat becomes the target for all their
negative feelings in life from that point on and I am
off the hook. In fact, I am seen in a completely
different light now. A combination of Angel of Mercy,
best friend in the world, and the start of being their
dominating lover."
Doctor Bridgestone began tapping the end of her pen on
her notebook as if trying to comprehend something. Not
readily seeing the answer she decided to ask Lisa.
"I'm having a hard time seeing how that last step
happens Lisa. Could you elaborate on it a little more?"
"Sure, it has to do with shared extremes. You know how
some people, perfect strangers no less, who share
something extraordinary in their lives can become great
friends afterwards, sometimes for life. And in some
cases the relationship can even result in marriage."
"Oh yes. Sharing an important event, especially one
which has the effect of showing the true nature of the
person in glaring detail can act to bring people very
close together, or drive them further apart if the case
maybe. And quite a significant number of marriages have
arisen from this sudden unexpected union of two people
under extraordinary conditions which result in favorable
consequences for both parties.... Or if the case maybe,
divorce, if it entailed great betrayal."
The last phrase the doctor said in a low voice as she
looked off to the side as if she was remembering
something in her own past.
"Exactly doctor! And what I share with them is the
extreme event of pain and pleasure. One drawback to my
therapy is that it must always be done on a regular
basis. Any lax in my patients dedication to their
routine will only result in them moving backwards.
"Even back enough to the point when I first found them
if they are persistent in their abstinence. That's why
the escape goat is so necessary. It allows them to focus
their negative thoughts on them while they go through
the discomfort and pain of their therapy. And I am right
there with them. Goading them on with their hatred for
the person responsible for their pain, for there broken
dreams and for their forced change in life.
"I even entrap them with scenarios of the mind. They
would be running on a tread mill or riding a stationary
bike and I would be whispering in their ear that their
hated foe was right there in front of them trying to get
away. Their minds easily fill in the rest of that image
as they begin to exert themselves more and more in
catching them. And that's when I crank up the resistance
on the machine more and more too. They are so involved
in their little revenge seeking fantasy that they don't
even notice me touching them again. This time I
concentrate fully on their erotic pleasure zones.
"Oh they can feel it all right, the pleasure of my
touch. But they are too focused on other things to give
it full awareness. And this is how it starts. Little by
little, adding more and more pleasure to their physical
pain and mental distress.
"Sooner or later their bodies give out, complete
exhaustion. I immediately take them in my arms like a
sleeping child and lay them down on the floor. Their
hearts are racing, their breathing is like a locomotive
running full out and their bodies begin to feel the
thunderous pain that their minds and endorphins have
shunted out for awhile. Physically helpless and mentally
in despair, they in the perfect state for conquest and
they are all mine.
"I so love the feel of a physically distressed female.
Their hot sweaty body next to mine. My hands and skin
seem to glides over theirs because of the way their
sweat acts like a natural lubricant. And when I kiss
them, and lick them, I can readily taste their unique
salty flavor. But the best part of all is their smell.
The rich erotic musk scent full of their pheromones is
like a direct connection to my clit. It makes me want to
fuck them until our hearts burst."
The doctor was once again writing in her book a mile a
minute. She didn't even stop when she asked the next
question.
"And your patients don't even try to stop you? Don't
they realized that they are for all practical purposes
being raped by you?"
"Ha, ha, ha, ha! Stop me? At that point and time they're
lucky to know their own names. And as far as stopping me
because I am "raping" them as you put it. What for?
These women know only three things, pain, emotional
devastation and focused anger. Their lifelong dream is
gone, forever. And the only thing that keeps them going
is their hatred for the person who did them in. There is
absolutely nothing good happening in their sorrowful
lonely lives.
"Remember, I have cut them off from the world, even the
two servants are of no help to them. I am the only one
they can count on. I am the only one who would tell them
the truth, good or bad. And I am the only one to give
them purpose in life. Thus, when they do experience
something nice, something physically pleasing, something
that no one will tell them is wrong or evil or that they
should never do, how could they turn their backs on
that? I give and they take. And with gratitude I might
add!"
"And that's what happened to Anna?"
Lisa hesitated for a few seconds before quickly looking
away. Her whole emotional euphoria suddenly switched
off. And in its place was a sad quiet demure. She took a
deep breath and sighed. Neither one of them made a sound
for the longest time. And it was critical for the doctor
to purposefully wait for Lisa to make the first move.
Lisa was just sitting there looking down at the blanket
that covered her, but not really seeing it. The period
of silence ended with a small smile on Lisa's face as
she turned her head and looked to the doctor again. She
then continued, but in a more reserved tone.
"At that point, one of three things will happen. The
most common one being that the patient begins to give
back what she receives. Once they have broken through
that mental barrier of lesbian love being bad, they are
all mine. Heart, mind and soul. Before, the scales were
tipped drastically in their favor with me giving 100% of
the time. But once they start to give back in kind, then
the scales begin to shift.
"In a very short time the relationship between me and my
patient is one of being your basic vanilla 50-50 girl to
girl equal. Then I push things, and of course they
follow like trusting little puppy dogs. Again, we start
out slowly, but soon I am dictating what I want, when I
want and how I want it. The scales have shifted
overwhelmingly in my favor, and now I have the devoted
submissive lover that I set out to have in the first
place."
The doctor was able to see the reason why there was such
a great and immediate change in Lisa's personality after
her question.
"And that's not what happened to Anna."
"No. The other two things that can happen are not as
common, but directly related to the same reason. That
being the inability of my patients to break through that
lesbian barrier. Either my patients get really upset
with what is happening to them and end our relationship
completely. Those are the ones who would call me a dyke
bitch or the sadistic bitch in white. The other negative
result is that they simply will not give back in kind.
And that's how it was with Anna. Except for one
distinction."
"Except?"
"For some reason, Anna became psychologically stuck.
Once I established Anna's hatred for Martha, it seemed
to consume her. The periods of pleasure I tried to give
her didn't seem to work anymore. In fact, she seemed to
have regressed back a bit. Oh I could touch her all
right, but it was virtually impossible for her to become
aroused by it anymore. It almost seemed like the only
time she did become aroused was when she only thought of
Martha in the context of revenge. I figured she was
developing into a perfect little sadist like me.
"And for awhile I thought I could still make her love me
too, or so I wanted to believe. Then one day she came to
me with some evidence regarding Martha. I didn't know it
until right then, but my dear precious Anna was quite an
accomplished computer geek. Somehow, someway, in the
little time I allowed her to be by herself, she had
found out that Martha was embezzling money from the
college where she worked. Anna brought the evidence to
me one day and thought it would be a good way to
blackmail Martha with."
"Wasn't that what you wanted all along? Part of your
great plan as I remember."
"Yes. But Anna had radically jumped the gun. I wanted to
establish an intimate lesbian relationship with her
first, then bring in Martha. I had all manner of
fantasies of both of us making love together in bed
while Martha was in the background moaning and groaning
from the pain and humiliation Anna and I had inflicted
upon her prior to it. And bringing in Martha now would
result in having those intimate nights of passion with
my dear sweet Anna fall by the way side. So I stalled
her. I told Anna that what she found was great, but we
needed more. It worked for a couple of days then Anna
came back to me with all manners of financial
blackmailing evidence. Later I found out that she had
planted it all with her computer skills.
So when she showed me all that she had, what could I
say? Thus we decided to invite Martha over on a rouse
and then spring upon what we had on her and our
ultimatum."
"So in reality, it was actually Anna who started the
blackmailing ball rolling then."
"Yea, surprise, surprise. What's that old saying "The
best laid plans of mice and men,"
"Often go astray. Oh yes, I know that one very well
indeed." Doctor Bridgestone again looked off to the side
as if in quiet reflection. Then a noise outside in the
hall broke her trace like stare.
"Let's see. It's about 10:30 now. How about we continue
our discussion after lunch, say about 2 pm. That will
give you plenty of time to eat and rest for a bit before
we start again fresh this afternoon. That should give me
enough time to see to other matters that I have pending
for today as well."
"Sure Doctor Bridgestone, that will be fine."
"Is there anything special you would like me to have the
orderly bring you for lunch?"
"Hmmm, just a light salad with vinegar dressing on the
side and a strawberry yogurt, low fat."
"Very well Lisa. Have a pleasant lunch and I will see
you at 2 then."
"You too doctor."
The woman doctor left the room with her well used
notebook clenched close to her breast. On her way down
the hall she stopped at the nurse's station and asked
the nurse for Lisa's chart. She entered some notes
regarding medication and the current status of her
patient's health. Then she told the nurse on duty to
relay her patient's lunch request to the proper
department.
She took a few minutes to briefly review the charts of
other patients related to her staff just to keep tabs on
how they were doing. All those patients seemed to be
doing very well too, a good reflection on the quality of
people she had working under her.
When she was finished with the paper work it was pretty
close to lunch time. So the woman doctor decided to beat
the crowd and have an early lunch. This way she could
spend more time with her "other" patient before going
back to Lisa again.
Part 3: Dear Friend
In another part of the hospital was the good doctor
Bridgestone. She was in the sub-basement, which was the
only original part of the hospital that had yet to be
renovated. It was currently being used as storage
facility for all the outdated medical and administrated
equipment.
She was sitting alone in what was once an observation
room. A simple little room with chairs facing a big one
way mirror. It was reminiscent of the time when the
hospital was once a pillar of learning for aspiring
young doctors of the new science called psychology. It
was also the last stop for the mentally and criminally
insane.
In many ways it still had the eerie feeling of a museum.
A macabre place of ghastly artifacts that were
suggestive of how things were once done a few decades
ago. During a time when the treatment for the mentally
ill boarder on being pure barbaric.
This type of treatment had always fascinated Doctor
Bridegstone throughout her long and celebrated career.
In fact, she was working on developing some very
unorthodox methods in the field of learning that
reflected some of those ignorant and torturous ways of
the past. Methods that if her fellow colleagues knew
about, they would surely think her mad. And if she dared
to bring them into the lime light, she would no doubt be
a patient of the same hospital that she herself held the
lofty position of chief of staff in.
So she decided to take an early retirement and begin
experimenting in her own private institute of learning,
funded by many grateful patrons. But then fate stepped
in and brought her "Dear Friend" back into her life.
Which was the reason for her sitting in this old
observation room, looking through the one way mirror and
into the next room that her staff euphemistically called
the "Dungeon".
She crossed her legs and opened the file folder she had
on her lap. It belonged to a Ms. Jane Doe. It was the
name of the woman who was first brought into the
hospital along with Lisa and Anna. She quietly sat and
began reading the information that was medically
encrypted there.
It was the usual things. Height 5' 8", weight about 105
lbs, blonde hair, blue eyes, age to be in the mid 30's
and general health to be fair. She was brought in as an
unconscious accident victim, but her wounds were nothing
more than some scrapes and bruises. The file also had
the medication prescribed for her and some notes of
observations made by the attending nurse, a Ms. Amanda
Blake.
The woman doctor smiled when she read some of her
comments. "Paranoia, delusional, physically violent,
verbally abusive, mood swings," all those
characteristics that labeled one as being severely and
dangerously mentally disturbed. Just like the good
doctor wanted everyone to think of her "Dear Friend"
Martha, alias Ms. Jane Doe.
She made a notation in the medication column and then
signed her initials next to it. There was no longer a
need to administer that medication any more. She already
obtained the results she wanted, now that Martha was
clinically labeled as being a psychotic in the hospital
database. Whatever Martha said to the doctors and nurses
when she regained consciousness in the emergency ward
would be of no consequence now. It would all be
characterized as the simple ramblings of a poor sick
mind. It also made it easier for her to move Martha out
of the private security ward and down here into the sub-
basement.
Getting rid of any violent patient always made the
nursing staff feel good. Besides, no one really cared
where they were moved to in the process, as long as it
was off their floor. And administration least of all,
especially when they found a patient to be lacking
insurance, as was her Dear Friend. But for the record,
Martha was transferred to a more specialized health care
facility in another state. A place which had the
resources and equipment to handled such violent,
destitute and mentally ill patients like poor Martha.
The good doctor closed the file and put it off to the
side. It would remain down here from now on. Far and
away from the possible prying eyes of a too curious and
much too dedicated staff member.
She leaned back in her chair and took a long casual look
at her Dear Friend. She placed her hand to her lips in
an attempt to hold back a giggle at what she saw.
'Finally', she thought, 'fate had smiled down upon her.'
Then the highly educated, award winning and much
respected woman doctor of behavioral psychology let out
one big revengeful laugh at the image she was looking
at.
In the other room was Martha, quietly resting by
herself. She had shed her former canvas cocoon and was
now completely nude. She was sort of "sitting" and
waiting for someone, anyone really. She was sitting on
what was once called a "wooden horse". Two large flat
boards formed into an erect triangle, to which Martha
was forced to sit on its peak.
She was straddling it with each leg flush up against the
side of each board. Normally, with her legs stretched
straight down along the surface of the boards, a good
part of her foot would be placed solidly on the floor.
That way she could easily keep her body weight off that
long nasty wooden edge, and well balanced on her own two
feet. Except her two feet were not on the floor.
Her legs were bent at the knees and her ankle cuffs
fastened to the upper sides of those two boards just
behind her. She was thus forced to maintain her balance
by hugging the ruff wooden surface of the horse with the
inside of her tender thighs and calves. Which thus made
her rest her entire body weight on the most sensitive
area of the female body and that narrow wooden edge.
Of course she could use her hands to help dissipate the
tremendous pressure and pain that her crotch area was
now experiencing, except for one thing. Those hospital
issued brown leather straps that once bound her so
securely and comfortably in that canvas cocoon now bound
her arms behind her back at her wrists and arms. They
were there to keep them from performing any unwanted
mischief, like trying to ease her painful situation on
the horse.
A tether from her bound wrists went up to a ceiling hook
and then back down to a wall crank. This arrangement
forced her arms to remain in a position that was
perpendicular to her erect torso. A position that added
to her painful plight.
The woman doctor was quite taken with Martha's very
still appearance. She knew Martha was still conscious,
because of the occasional finger flexing that she saw to
keep the blood circulating in her hands and arms. She
also could hear a faint repeating groan, indicating that
her "Dear Friend" was in a constant state of wakeful
lingering agony.
And then there was the occasional waves of drool coming
from her gagged mouth. At first the woman doctor was
perplexed, as to how it was done. What with such a big
rubber ball wedged so tightly in her mouth that her own
lips were stretch taught against it. But with a much
more watchful eye the woman doctor could see some jaw
flexing that coincided with the next batch of drool that
oozed out from the corners of her mouth.
She took a quick look at her watch and seemed amazed.
She then picked up her ever present notebook and made a
notation on one of the back pages. It seemed that Martha
must have been in really good shape to take such
physical punishment for such a long time and still
remain conscious. She speculated that it was no doubt
due to Lisa's and Anna's handiwork. Something she was
interested in finding more about with her next session
with Lisa.
All of a sudden the door to Martha's room opened and an
African American nurse came in wheeling a small shelved
cart. It was Amanda.
The woman doctor looked at the black nurse with happy,
appreciate eyes. For it was Amanda who was not only her
most promising student, but was the one who immediately
alerted her to Martha's presence in the emergency room.
She remembered receiving a call from her late one
evening, and when she heard the reason for Amanda's
excited voice over the phone, the conversation that
followed was one of mutual conspiratorial revenge. For
both Doctor Bridgestone and Amanda had their own special
reasons for detesting Martha to the core.
Doctor Bridgestone despised her because it was Martha
who had had an affair with her husband, now since
divorced. Such an obscene betrayal in her life went on
for months and cost her much in her social and academic
standing, not to mention her own emotional stability.
She really loved her husband and never knew the affair
even existed. She was shocked into knowing by Martha
herself, in a letter she sent with pictures of herself
and her husband in many intimate situations.
Although Martha never came out and said it in words,
Doctor Bridgestone knew the real reason for it was pure
blackmail. But the good woman doctor would have none of
it. She immediately divorced her husband, who she
reluctantly still loved, and took time off to get
herself together and her life back on track. Oh she knew
her husband was equally at fault too, but somehow she
knew Martha was the instigator of it all. And now in her
never fully recovered and scared mind, she was going to
get her pound of flesh in delicious satisfying revenge.
Amanda wanted to get even with Martha too, but for a
different reason. Her older sister, Belinda, wanted to
become a professional athlete and looked up to Martha
because of her own success and teaching skills in said
field. But her dear sister had a weight problem. It
wasn't anything way out of control or kept her from
performing successfully. She was just a tiny bit heavy
below the waist. But Martha told her in short order to
lose it or don't bother her ever again.
Belinda tried, she tried really hard, but nothing seemed
to work. Nothing until Martha gave her some illegal diet
pills. Diet pills that made her loose the weight all
right, but they also got her started on the path to
other drugs as well. Steroids, muscle relaxers, uppers,
downers, the whole drug scene became a dominant part of
her sister's life. And then that led to performance
problems, and money problems, and prostitution, and
getting expelled from college and then out on the street
turning tricks for a high.
Amanda tried to help her sister, but Belinda was too far
gone. Becoming a dedicated nurse and now studying under
the renowned Doctor Bridgestone was Amanda's way of
turning something bad into something good in memory of
her beloved sister. That, and having a constant
simmering appetite to get even with her sister's coach
and villainous drug pusher Martha!
Doctor Bridgestone and Amanda knew of one another's
hatred of Martha. Being so close to one another in the
academic field makes it easy to share some private
intimate incidents in one another's life. So when Amanda
saw Martha that fateful night in the emergency ward she
knew their dream for revenge was just about to come
true.
She immediately called Doctor Bridgestone at her home
and the two came up with a plan. A plan that would
satisfy both their desires for revenge, as well as
providing the good doctor with a guinea pig to practice
her new teaching technique's on. That is before going
out in private practice.
That night nurse Amanda made the waking acquaintance of
Martha, as she was taking her vital signs. The emergency
staff had already dealt with her when she was
unconscious and put her on a less critical list. Amanda
knew she would not be recognized by Martha because they
only met a couple of times when her big sister was in a
few competitive events, and even then the drama and
confusion of those times overshadowed any lasting
impression the two might have had.
Besides, there was very little resemblance between her
and her sister Belinda anyway. Amanda being more petite
and far more pretty than her older sibling. Thus it was
easy for nurse Amanda to take Martha's blood pressure
and pulse rate without her patient knowing who she
really was or the revenge that the dynamic duel had
planned for her.
Martha regained consciousness in a very hyper state. She
kept going on and on about some horrid tale of being
blackmailed, tortured, and made to perform as a lesbian
sex slave to two women who were intent on destroying
her. As her current situation in the hospital was proof
of. But Amanda was only half listening to her fantastic
story as she quickly prepared a special syringe
prescribed by the chief of staff herself, and fellow
conspirator.
Amanda gave the injection to her patient with a big
sinister smile. Telling her, on the brink of laughter,
that it will make her feel better in no time at all.
While the drugs were coursing through Martha's veins,
Doctor Bridgestone was well on her way to the hospital.
She was most eager to meet her "Dear Friend" on her own
home ground this time.
When the woman doctor arrived, Martha was well into her
second violent psychotic episode. It took two big male
attendants and two nurses to get her under control. Then
Doctor Bridgestone ordered up another shot, a strong
sedative this time. And it put Martha right out cold.
When Martha was lying a sleep, dead to the world, all
four of the staff who helped take Martha down were in
need of medical attention themselves. They had bruises,
bloody scratches and even a couple of bite marks that
Martha had administered without mercy in her dire quest
to escape her science created hallucinations of hell.
Once Martha was under control Amanda transported the
sleeping beauty to the highly restricted mental ward.
And once there, alone, and safely in the padded room,
Amanda took her time encasing Martha in the full length
cocooned straight jacket, with its myriad of heavy
leather straps and strong buckles.
Martha was still fast asleep when Amanda weaved the
matching head-harness into place. She took her time
making sure each strap was positioned just right about
Martha's head and face. The straps themselves were
buckled loosely at first until the whole harness and
fowl tasting leather pouch gag was right where Amanda
wanted them.
Then she systematically tightened each one until the
leather bit deep into Martha's face and skull. And
that's how Amanda left her. Like an encapsulated
caterpillar in its immobile carapace, waiting to be
reborn into whatever Doctor Bridegestone and Amanda's
revengeful heart and minds could think of.
At that point the good doctor worked her magic as chief
of staff. She immediately had Martha put under her
exclusive care with Amanda as the only attending nurse.
The next night, late into Amanda shift, she had Amanda
give Martha a low grade sedative, which made it easier
and quieter to transfer Martha to her new room down in
the sub-basement. It took a bit of doing on Amanda's
part for Martha was much bigger than her, but she soon
had Martha riding that horse in all her painstaking
naked glory.
Now the woman doctor quickly cleaned and adjusted her
glasses for a good look see. This was going to be the
first time that she witnessed the interaction between
her assistant and her "Dear Friend", and she was eager
to see what transpired between them.
Amanda wheeled the cart off to the side and approached
the strained body of her most important patient. She
stood there for a moment, at arm's length, drinking in
every last drop from her cup of sweet revenge. Then,
with mindful purpose, she strolled around her hated foe
studying her like an art critic grading a sculpted piece
of marble.
Her eyes went wide in a long blissful stare over those
areas of Martha's distressed carcass that stood out with
unique fascination. Like the overdeveloped muscle
structure of Martha's lower body that was in direct
sharp contrast to her almost emaciated upper body. Then
there were the scars, mostly whip marks, on the fleshy
part of her ass and hips. But two of them were not like
the others.
They were distinct, well formed and made from something
that burned deep into the skin of her upper left thigh.
These brand marks were made up of two capital letters,
one over the other and separated by a slash. She smiled
when her eyes caught the hard raised skin that formed
into the letter "A". The same first letter of her own
pretty name, Amanda.
When she came full circle, she stopped and folded her
arms across her chest. She stood in calm, heartless,
mocking defiance to Martha's long painful plight. She
took one, two and then three steps back. Back far enough
to view this living exhibit in all its agonizing
wretched beauty. Then she smiled. A big, wide, open
mouth smile that seemed to dominate her lovely innocent
Nubian face. She was smiling because of what this woman
represented to her.
This was a woman in unbelievable torment! Suffering, so
deep and so extreme, as to go far beyond the pains of
the flesh, but to the very scaring of her immortal soul.
And this was an excellent beginning in satiating
Amanda's need for revenge. Revenge that she swore on her
sister's grave that she would one day reap upon this
very same woman.
But Amanda felt something else too. Something other than
the supreme delight of vengeance. It was something that
also puzzled her a great deal as well. She felt,
aroused!
'How could I feel such an unnatural sense of erotic
pleasure at a time like this' she would ask herself. 'I
am a nurse, an angel of mercy for God's sake! A person
dedicated to helping those in need.' She could
understand why she felt so joyful when she saw the woman
responsible for her sister's demise finally getting her
just deserved due. But she just could not comprehend why
she felt so moved, sexually, by what she saw as well.
Martha did her best to remain as still as the grave in
her agonizing condition, while the attending nurse took
her time in appraising her like a vulture over a dying
road kill. She already knew that the black nurse's
presence was not a reason to celebrate her hopeful
release. She vaguely remembered this nurse as being one
of the people she had attacked when she went crazy in
the emergency ward. And she also remembered that during
her in and out sedative state that it was this black
nurse which was responsible for her current physical
condition as well. So any hope Martha had for the near
future was for things not to get any worst.
Amanda approached the drooping drooling head of her
quarry and then stood off to the side facing the big
mirror. The same mirror of which the good doctor sat on
the other side, leaning forward and staring intently at
both of them now.
The confident black nurse in her spotless white starched
uniform reached to the top of the drooping head of her
still immobile prey and grabbed a fist full of her sweat
drenched matted hair. She jerked the inert head up and
back. A hard hurting groan was heard escaping from
around the ball gag as saliva and sweat flew out into
the air in an arc at the same time.
"Well Ms. Doe, you have been here for some time now.
Would it be safe to say that you have learned your
lesson?"
Holding her eyes tightly shut from the added pain of
having her hair practically pulled out by its roots as
well as having her head forced unnaturally back until
she was facing the ceiling, Martha wailed out a garbled
YES!
"No more screaming? No more kicking? No more lashing out
or trying to bite those who are trying to help you?"
After each question Amanda purposefully shook Martha
head by her hair to make her point all that more
poignant.
A few fresh tears rolled down Martha's cheek. That was
all that she had left to give in her unrelenting
tortured state. She didn't understand why she did those
things, but she did. For some reason she just couldn't
help it. It was as if she had lost complete control of
herself. All she wanted to do was to escape and run away
from the evil that she felt was about to pounce upon
her. And if anyone got in her way she had to hurt them,
bad, before they had a chance to hurt her. But now those
feelings had magically disappeared, completely.
So Martha was honest when she answered Amanda's
questions with a few short affirmative grunts.
"Good! But let me warn you Ms. Doe. If I experience even
the least bit of resistance on your part, I swear, you
will regret it even more so than you do now. Do you
understand me?" Amanda really pulled back hard on
Martha's head causing Martha to yell YES at the top of
her exhausted lungs through her ball gag with even more
saliva spewing forth like a fountain.
"Very good Ms. Doe." And with that Amanda released
Martha's hair letting her head fall back down in front
of her like a lifeless rag doll.
Doctor Bridgestone and Amanda had a previous little talk
pertaining to whether they should let Martha know who's
everyone was and what was going to happen to her. But
since Martha never told anyone her name in the emergency
ward before going schizoid, and her remaining gagged
ever since, they decided to keep things cloudy. Thus the
reason for Amanda to call Martha Ms. Doe. It was like
having two aces in the hole and both conspirators wanted
to play them only at the right time for their maximum
benefit.
Amanda moved to the back of the horse and began
unfastening the cuffs that held Martha's legs up behind
her.
"Now I am going to release you Ms. Doe and then bath
you. You are very sweaty and smelly, and in desperate
need of a thorough cleaning. After that I will feed you,
allow you to go to the rest room and then put you to bed
for a good night's rest."
When one of her ankles was released it quickly dragged
itself down the side of the slanted board before
stopping from the heated friction near the bottom. Even
with Martha's above average muscle development in her
legs she still felt the nasty muscle aches and spasms
that went with keeping a body's appendages in one
position for too long. She was barely able to make her
toes touch the floor when her other ankle was suddenly
released. And that too slid like dead weight to the
bottom.
Martha was eager to shift her body weight from resting
on her swollen painful crotch and back onto her own two
feet, but it was hard going. The horse was too tall to
make this an easy task. She had to extend her legs
arduously straight down and then bend her foot as if she
were wearing high heeled shoes in order to make contact.
"I am ready to release your arms Ms. Doe, but not until
you are able to balance yourself on your legs. I have no
desire to try and hold you up by myself and risk getting
my clean uniform soiled by your fowl smelly body. So as
soon as you are ready just let me know."
Amanda stood behind Martha near the wall where the crank
was that would lower her arms. She watched with a happy
gleam in her eye as Martha tried as quickly as possible
to get her legs back into working order. She could only
imagine how dreadful the pain was in her nemeses
shoulders and arms with them being held in that
distressing position for so long. And that one factual
thought brought more joy to Amanda's gluttonous
vindictive spirit than all the dreams and fantasies she
conjured up when she was alone and thinking of revenge.
It didn't take long before Martha had herself steady
under her own power. She made a very audible groan of
acknowledgment to the nurse when she was ready. A good
part of that groan was from freeing her crotch from the
burden of being the sole supporter of her entire body
weight. So severe was this pain that she thought to
temper it a little by once again letting her body weight
rest back upon that bastard edge. But she soon found out
that her bright idea only made it worst. So she quickly
went back up on her toes and forced herself to
experience even more pain from having her swollen
throbbing crotch set free.
"Are you sure your ready Ms. Doe? You seem to be dancing
around a bit as if you actually like ridding your little
horsey." Amanda could not help adding that little
childish dig to her patient's further distress.
Martha immediately began shaking her head up and down in
a flamboyant manner to the nurse's question and then
immediately follow it with an equally outrageous head
twisting NO to her comment of wanting to continue to
ride her horsey.
"Now you are confusing me Ms. Doe. The way you keep
shaking your head in different direction I can't tell if
you want me to release you or not. Maybe I should leave
you like this for awhile and come back in a few hours
when you have finally made up your mind."
Again Martha went into an elaborate head twisting NO
accompanied by a loud groaning response that told Amanda
not to go, not to leave her like this and to please,
please, please release her.
"All right then. I will ask you this one more time. Are
you ready for me to lower your arms Ms. Doe?"
Amanda purposefully delayed her helpless victim's
release as long as she could. She knew the most
psychologically distressing time for Martha would be on
the brink of freedom. The intense anticipation of relief
being only seconds away and then being denied it because
of some simple stupid miscommunication going on between
them. The physical and mental stress was quickly putting
Martha on the verge of a complete emotional break down
while Amanda was loving every minute of it. Even the
woman doctor, on the other side of the mirror, was
squirming in her chair with satisfying glee.
Once more Martha made the affirmative horse shaking head
nod and the associated equally outlandish saliva
spitting groan to make her answer as simple and as loud
as possible.
"There now, that was wasn't hard at all once you made
your mind up. Right Ms. Doe?"
Martha's head drooped forward. She was far too tired and
far too much in pain to answer such a stupid rhetorical
question like that.
Amanda flicked a switch and began to let the crank of
the winch turn. With each slow clicking revolution the
rope tether that held Martha's arms in their painful
position was lengthen. She watched with curious interest
as to how Martha's body would react to having her arms
put back into a much less stressful bound position
directly behind her.
It HURT! It was focused pain that took over Martha's
complete awareness. The only thought that quickly passed
through her mind was death, she longed for it. The only
brief diversion from the monumental hard throbbing pain
that echoed deafeningly in her shoulders was the sharp
stabbing shock she felt when her red swollen crotch
accidental thumped down upon that nasty wooden edge as a
result of her knees buckling for an instant.
In the far far corner of Martha's mind, were fading
consciousness bordered on surreal sleepy dreams, a
question was being formed. A question only a mind free
of the painful realities of life could ever conceive. A
question based on the sole lesser of evils. The question
of which was worse, the pain of having her arms released
from the strained unnatural position that they were in,
or the pain she experienced in getting them and keeping
them there in the first place?
As more and more of the arm tether was slowly released,
Martha's body began to slump forward until she looked as
if she was going to fall over. Her upper body did not
have the exceptional strength of her lower body and her
weak back muscles were in the same state of strained
hurting exhaustion as her shoulders were. Then all of a
sudden the winch stopped.
"Ms. Doe, you told me most decisively that you would be
able to balance yourself on your own two feet when I let
down your arms. But all I see is a woman ready to fall
off her horse and right onto her face. Don't you know
you can hurt yourself doing that?"
Amanda could hardly hold back from giggling when she
purposely said such a stupid thing like that. But the
good woman doctor had no such qualms about holding back
a good hardy belly laugh in her sound proof observation
room.
"Patient care is of the upmost importance to this
hospital and to the dedicated staff of doctors and
nurses who work here. And having patients falling down
on the floor is strictly prohibited! Either you get
yourself under control and standing erect on your own
two feet this very minute, or I will just have to change
settings on this winch and pull you back up by your
arms. I will not permit you to hurt yourself in anyway
Ms. Doe. Now which way will it be?"
Amanda quickly put her hand to her mouth to cut off an
outburst of laughter that was well on its way to coming
out. Once more the woman doctor had no restrictions on
her composure and was laughing so hard that tears were
running down her cheeks. The reason for which was in
dramatic contrast to what was causing Martha's tears to
flow.
Upon hearing the threat of becoming once more a twisted
puppet on a string, Martha immediately summoned up as
much energy as she could and began to move. Straining,
gut wrenching moans told her story in agonizing detail.
Her jerking upper body atoned to the fact of her lack of
muscle control and to the painfully damaged muscles that
did their very best to raise her back up and into the
desired position set forth by the nurse in charge of her
every comfort.
"Very good Ms. Doe. I will now continue lowering your
arms."
A sharp shrill of agony screeched forth when Martha's
arms began to rise again.
"My goodness sakes! Now how did that happen? Oh well,
good thing I caught it in time. Let me reverse direction
again and then we can continue. It won't take more than
a minute to get your arms back down Ms. Doe."
But the nurse was wrong. It took several, long, eye
scrunching minutes before Martha's numb sleeping hands
could feel the ridge of the board behind her again.
"There you are Ms. Doe. Now if you wouldn't mind working
yourself forward and off that special behavioral device
for me, then I can remove those straps that are keeping
your arms together behind your back. And DON'T FALL! Or
there will be hell to pay, for the both of us!"
'Hell', Martha thought to herself. She never left it
since she was blackmailed into it by Lisa and Anna a
couple of months ago. Her present situation was just
another variation on the theme. Her only salvation for
her continued persecution in life was to simply hope.
Hope that with each new nightmarish episode she
experienced, she would one day soon find it all over
with, forever. She had thought the accident followed by
her awaking in the hospital that, that very day had
arrived. But she was wrong. Her tormented saga continued
here in the hospital too, but hopefully, it would only
be for a little while longer.
So she took those necessary little steps forward.
Dragging her puffy red pussy lips along the rough
splintered edge of the horse. Magnifying a thousand fold
the grievous painful consequences of her actions. She
tried to use her hands and arms to help in her
balancing, and to relieve some of the burning friction
on her pussy, but they were of no use. Her arms were too
far gone as a result of their own right-of-passage in
being sadistically bound skyward behind her.
"Come along now Ms. Doe. The faster you extricate
yourself from there the quicker I can free you. Then I
can clean you up, feed you and put you to bed. Wouldn't
you like that Ms. Doe? Being all nice and clean, having
a good meal to fill your empty belly and then being put
to bed on some nice clean sheets with a warm blanket to
comfort you. Doesn't that sound wonderful Ms. Doe?"
Motivation, that's what Amanda was doing. She was
mentally holding that carrot out in front of Martha.
Motivating her with the promise of physical contentment
if she would only go through hell to get there first.
The same exact technique that Lisa and Anna had used on
her over and over again to get her to literally jump at
the snap of their fingers. And it all started with a
simple contract between them. Ha! A contract, it was
nothing more than blackmail wrapped up in a promissory
note. She promised to be their chattel for a few months
and in return they would give her all the incriminating
evidence they had on her.
She thought it would be easy. Just a few months of
simple obedience and servitude, then her life, her
future, would be hers to do with as she desired once
more. But if only she knew that those two were in league
with the devil, then she would have gladly chosen jail
instead. At least there she was guaranteed by law to be
free from cruel and unusual punishment. Unlike what
those two disciples of Satan guaranteed her.
Martha was just about there now. One more thrust forward
and she would finally be off that damn horse. She took a
moment, to breathe, to let the searing pain emanating
from her poor traumatic crotch dampen down a bit. Then
closing her eyes tightly and with one final push
forward, fueled more from hateful memories than from
positive motivation, she jerked herself off the horse.
With her feet flat on the floor and her two amazingly
strong legs spread wide and keeping her up right, Martha
felt a final wave of spiking radiating pain course
through her body. So powerful was it, that her body
vibrated uncontrollably from being totally engulfed by
it. If Lisa and Anna had not done such a good job in
acclimating her to their sadistic pleasures then she
would have surely passed out and fell to the floor.
"Very good Ms. Doe", Amanda exclaimed with an amazed
supportive tone in her voice. "Now that wasn't hard at
all, now was it?" Again, her sarcastic and patronizing
voice echoed her true feelings toward Martha.
Martha did not reply to the faint distant voice that
tried to permeate her pain retching austere. But as her
awareness of the world around her grew, her concern was
still for herself. For the happy relief of finally being
off that damn horse and the eager expectations of a
promise waiting to be fulfilled.
"All right Ms. Doe, let's get those straps off of your
arms so I can get you cleaned up."
Martha maintained her steadfast stance as Amanda began
loosening the first tight strap around her upper arms.
'I can't believe how pathetic her arms are', Amanda
commented to herself. 'So thin, lifeless and dead, just
like a rag doll. No resistance or muscle movement in
them at all. Even their black and blue coloring makes
them look so old, so strange, and so... non-human.'
Amanda's curiosity was growing with each new little
discovery she made on Martha's body. Her intellectual
mind keep speculating what Martha's life was like before
she came to the hospital. Something she was eager to ask
Doctor Bridgestone about in the near future.
When she had removed the two straps above and below
Martha's elbows, she thought a moment as to whether to
remove the remaining strap around her patient's wrists.
She had already experienced Martha's rather excited
state from the injection Doctor Bridgestone told her to
give. She was in fact one of the four who literally had
to tackle Martha and sit on her in order for the strong
sedative to work its magic.
Her petite frame was still aching in places from that
intense roust about back then. But considering that
Martha was behaving herself very well now and that the
drug should have completely dissipated out of her system
by this time, she figured any repeat performance was not
a likely event. But still...
Amanda twisted Martha's complacent body around until she
was face to face with her. The expression on her face
was anything but the compassionate angel of mercy her
pristine white nurses uniform made her out to be.
"Now you listen to me Ms. Doe. I am willing to remove
the straps holding your bound wrists behind your back,
BUT, I expect you to act like a normal human being when
I do. By that I mean no fighting with me, no running
away and no disobedience what-so-ever! Do you hear me? I
will not tolerate any negative behavior from you at all.
Because if you do..." Amanda put her hand in the empty
pocket of her nurses uniform. "Then I have something
here that will SHOCK you into a mound of quivering Jell-
O, do you understand me Ms. Doe?"
Martha went wide eyed with fear. She had enough. Her
body was a tired, painful, throbbing mass bordering on
complete disability. Her once raging temper and
uncontrollable spirit of defiance was totally gone. And
the promise of a clean body, food and a soft bed to
sleep in was all she cared about now. So she shook her
head yes with pleading tears mixing with her profusely
sweating body.
"Good! Now turn around Ms. Doe and we can get started in
making your life a whole lot better."
Martha slowly turned around. Her powerful legs made that
part easy. A product of Lisa and Anna's perverted
training regimen. But her upper torso jerked around as
if it was ready to fracture into a thousand pieces.
Another example of the sadistic cruelty that she had to
suffer under the deviate perverted minds of her previous
two Mistresses.
When the last strap was removed from around Martha's
wrists her arms fell to her sides like limp spaghetti.
For awhile they banged haphazardly into her powerful
hips as if all conscious life was stripped from them.
Then they soon simmered down and hung soberly at her
sides.
"Now go to that corner, over there in front of you Ms.
Doe, and we can start cleaning you up."
Her first step in that direction immediately told her
that her walk there would have to be bowlegged. Her
crotch and pussy, not to mention her chaffed inner
thighs and calves, were far too sore to allow for even
the least bit of contact. So the few feet to a large
squared off shower area, without the benefit of privacy
walls, seemed like a hundred hurting miles away. She
wondered why her gag was not removed and thought of
doing it herself, that is once feeling came back to her
arms and hands. But fearing what the nurse might do to
her with that device in her pocket she decided to remain
the silent complacent patient that she was.
When she stepped over the raised rim of the shower stall
she could feel the coldness of the floor tiles under her
feet. Then she felt something else too. The pin and
needles effect of slumbering flesh coming back from the
dead. Again her eyes squinted in pain as blood began to
freely circulate in her arms and hands once more.
She started to move her fingers, flexing them open and
close, to help this process along. But it didn't seem to
do any good. She even tried to remove the stiffness in
her wrists, elbows and shoulders, but again the ungodly
pain arising from strained and damaged muscles was
something that Martha could no longer tolerate. She
simply decided to let nature take its course and thus
became a martyr to her own persecuted body. Oh why was
fate so cruel to her.
"MMPPHHHH!!!" Martha screamed through her gag when the
cold water hit her on the back.
"OH! I'm sorry Ms Doe. Is the water too cold? Here, let
me make it a little warmer for you."
Amanda had left the hot water faucet purposefully turned
off when she began spraying Martha with the water. Water
that came from a simple garden hose and it's
corresponding gun shaped lawn sprayer.
"It will be just a minute before the hot water comes
through so why don't you begin to slowly turn around in
place while I spray you down."
Martha had thought when she was promised to be cleaned
up, that the nurse meant like a normal human being. With
hot water flowing down, over and around her aching body
from an over head shower nozzle like warm rain falling
down from the sky. Maybe even a large soft sponge loaded
with sudsy soap containing skin rejuvenating oils and
pleasant spring fragrances that would gently wash her
dirty smelly body clean and fresh.
Followed by a long hot rinse to wash away any remnants
of her grungy existence and to sooth her straining
hurting muscles if only a little. Finally, a quick cool
sprits of water to invigorate her back to the living.
This is what Martha was hoping for, praying even. But
what she got was something that one would barely give to
a farm animal let alone a fellow human being.
"That's it Ms. Doe, keep turning while I load this soap
pellet into the spray nozzle."
Martha slowly kept turning in place. Her body was
shaking uncontrollably from being fire hosed with cold
water. If it wasn't for the ball gag still strapped in
her mouth her teeth would be clattering up a storm.
"Close your eyes now Ms. Doe, you don't want to get any
of this detergent soap in your eyes."
Another blast of water hit Martha right smack in the
face. The force was so hard, that if it wasn't for her
strong legs, she would have been knocked right down.
'Well at least the water was warm now', she thought as
her uncontrollable shaking quickly faded away. But with
the soapy water being a detergent base, it was washing
away all of her natural body oils as well as all the
dirt and grime from her body. So her skin was going to
be very dry, rough and flaky after this. Something that
the chaffed areas of her crotch, arms and legs would not
like at all.
Amanda continued to wash Martha as if she were her
automobile. A mere object like lawn furniture or window
screens to be cleaned up as quickly and as efficiently
as possible. With little to no risk of getting herself
wet or dirty in the process.
"Ok Ms. Doe, let's get all those nooks and crannies
areas too. Turn to your left and raise your arm. That's
right, let me get those underarms all nice and squeaky
clean. Now the other side too. Good girl! Ok, now turn
around and bend over. That's it. Spread your legs. More!
I have to make sure your anal pore is clean too. Use
your hands to spread your butt cheeks. I know it's hard
for you what with your arms still hurting and all. Here,
let me make a stronger stream and I can help pound your
muscles back to life. There, isn't that better?"
Martha was too out of it to care anymore. She simply
continued to obey commands like a mindless robot, just
doing what she was told to do. The same thing she did
with Lisa and Anna when she was being exercised to the
edge of fatigue, or when she was put on humiliating
display and told to lick the vaginas of ALL of Lisa's
friends one after the other. She found it better if she
didn't think about it while she did it. Thinking always
made it worst, much, much worst.
"Now let me get the backs of your legs. My goodness! I
just can't get over how well developed your legs are
especially in comparison to your upper body. Maybe the
doctor can help you out with this unusual
disproportionate abnormality of yours. Ok, now turn
around and let me do your front. OH! Sorry! I still had
the water stream on too hard. There we go. My word, how
in the world did you ever get your breasts looking so
poorly!
"Surely you're not that old! But they look like a pair
of old woman's breasts, all flaccid and sagging like big
party balloons after most of the air leaked out. Oh
well, I know the doctor can recommend a good plastic
surgeon for you too. Ok, now spread your legs real wide.
There's one more area I just have to make sure is very
clean. I know your very sensitive there, but I have to
make sure you are completely cleaned up, inside and out.
So just remain as still as possible and it will be over
in jiffy."
Funny how the seconds can feel like hours sometimes. But
what else could Martha do? She just had to stand there
and take it, the constant pounding to her clean shaven
chaffed pussy area. Around and around the stabbing water
flowed, up and down, back and forth. Nurse Amanda
definitely took her job seriously. Then in the midst of
getting a thorough garden hose douching, Martha had an
out of body thought cross her mind. What did she mean by
cleaned on the inside as well?
"Now for a quick rinse job with hot water. Let me change
the water flow to a nice wide spray and you keep turning
while I run the water all over you."
The hot water felt really nice for Martha, until it
began to feel too hot, practically scalding.
"Just a quick fanning with cool water and then your all
done."
"MMMMFPPHH" yelled Martha as the sudden change from hot
to cold again viciously shocked her mind as it did her
body.
"All done Ms. Doe. Now come to me and I will dry you
off."
Martha was once more shaking uncontrollably from the
cold water on her body. She quickly waddled over to the
nurse eager to feel the soft warmth of the bath towel
upon her icy dripping skin.
Amanda was none to gentle in drying off Martha. Nor was
she all that particular in getting her completely dry
either. On several occasions a muffled groan from under
the rough beach size towel was heard as a result of
Amanda's rough rubbing in certain sensitive and swollen
areas.
Martha didn't realize it yet, but Amanda was slowly
moving her in a specific direction and to a rather
archaic device. It wasn't until Martha felt something
clamping around her ankles that she noticed she was in
another part of that same room.
The towel was pulled harshly from Martha and because her
feet were held in place she almost fell over forwards.
Lucky a large wooden stand about waist high just in
front of her stopped her continued fall else she would
have landed face first onto the hard floor.
Her hair was still a wet mangled mess around her head.
And a good part of it was sticking to her face thus
distorting her vision so she couldn't see what the nurse
was fastening her into. But it didn't take long for
Martha to realize that she was now locked into an
antiquated wooden stock.
Something right out of the time of the Spanish
inquisition.
It kept her bent forwards at the waist with her head and
wrists held securely between two massive boards
reinforced with black pieces of metal riveted into it.
She tried to free herself, but it was no use. The fit
was too good because of some rubber like sleeve that
lined the wooden cut outs. To keep the two boards from
coming apart, the nurse locked them together with a
brand new heavy duty lock.
Martha tried to move her legs and feet but found them to
be held firmly in place by another wooden stock with
snug rubber lining. The nasty part of her position was
that her feet were almost directly under her head
stocks, thus forcing her to keep her legs straight and
at an angle under her. It also made her stick her butt
right out in back of her as if she was prepared for a
good old fashion ass whooping. Just like they did a long
time ago as punishment for unruly citizens of the
pilgrim era. But nurse Amanda had another reason for
putting Martha in this awkward position.
"There you go Ms. Doe. Now I can get started with
cleaning you up on the inside."
Martha closed her eyes in shame. Now she knew what the
nurse meant by cleaning her up on the "inside". With her
feet held apart and fastened in place by the same
contrivance that kept her head and hands safely locked
away, Martha was in the perfect position to receive a
thorough bowel cleaning, better known as an enema.
The cold shower invigorated her enough to try another
attempt at freeing herself from her captured display
like state. But the device, all be it old, was still in
perfect working order and fit her like a glove. No
matter how much wiggling and direct force that she
applied, all that resulted was some creaking of the
wood. Her second wind didn't last long though, for she
was soon back to her normal compliant and obedient self
ready for nurse Amanda's compassionate touch.
When she heard the snap of rubber gloves being put on,
Martha closed her eyes and began moving her head from
side to side. She thought that once she was out from
under the dominating thumb of Lisa and Anna, she would
never experience another humiliating event like this
again. But it seemed like fate had it in for her. For
once again someone was about to inspect, probe and no
doubt play with the most private parts of her body,
totally against her will.
She remembered what Lisa and Anna called it, bung hole
play. She called it forced sodomy. The endless day after
day insertion of all kinds of paraphernalia into her
rectum. From objects of different sizes, shapes and
materials, including vegetables, to the use of their own
surgically gloved fingers and HANDS. The variety seemed
endless. And as a result of this repeated degrading pass
time, Martha was forced to learn how to relax her
sphincter muscles on demand or suffer the consequences.
Something her body had acclimated well to in her
training, but something her mind could never do.
She could never, ever, accept what they did to her as
being pleasurable. Even when Lisa and Anna had her pussy
thoroughly wet and dripping from such revolting
depravity, she denied herself any acceptance of pleasure
from it. She zealously believed that a person's anus was
a very private place and made exclusively as an exit
point, and never to be used as a port of entry for
anything.
But the memories came flooding back now. Of the first
time when they did this to her. They told her to lie
down on the examination table. Her wrists were tied
together over her head and to the back of the table. Her
legs were pulled up and spread wide on both sides of her
head and tied there. They literally had her folded over
onto herself so her entire crotch area was left wide
open and easily accessible. She wasn't gagged back then,
as she was now, because her two tormentors wanted to
hear her cry, beg and plead for mercy as they literally
fucked with her disgusting crap hole to no end.
Then she remembered the many times when she was ordered
to bend over and grab her ankles right there in the
formal living room with many of Lisa's friends present.
She always hated having to do this, because they never
let her wear any underwear. No panties, no bra, nothing!
And when they did let her wear something, it only
reflected her sexy, servile status by having cut outs
for her nipples and crotch area. So when she was order
to display herself bent over, she knew to be ready for
something. For a finger, or a carrot, or a dildo, or any
number of obscene objects that her Mistresses or their
friends would stick deep into her ass.
Oh she had learned all right, the hard way. She learned
what to do and what not to do when something was playing
in and out with her ass hole. The more submissive,
pleading and teary eyed she acted, the less painful her
ordeal was. If she cursed at them, pretended she liked
it, or simply did nothing at all, then it became a long,
drawn out, painful nightmare. So she had learned to play
up to their sadistic nature simply as an act of self-
preservation. But she could never satisfactory deal with
the feeling of self-loathing and humiliation that came
with each and every time someone was fucking her ass.
And that was why she was mumbling, groaning and
squealing like a pig when nurse Amanda put finger, after
finger, after finger into her butt hole. Most of it was
for show though. A knee jerk reaction that Martha
trained herself to make. But a significant part of it
still reflect how humiliating it made her feel. A
feeling she could never shake away.
Amanda could not believe what she was experiencing.
Never had she felt such a loose and supple anus before.
It was as if Martha's anal pore had seen some serious
dilation in the past. It was so loose that she thought,
with a little work, she could actually put her whole
hand into Martha's rectum.
Amanda began to wonder how such a thing like this could
happen, as she kept fingering Martha's bung hole. A
short time later, much shorter than Amanda thought
possible, she reached for one of two special enema
nozzles on her cart. She picked one up and brought it to
Martha's thoroughly greased up hole.
But just before she started to make contact, she froze
for a second. Then she raised it back up and took a long
hard look at. With a sullen look about her, she
inspected it's plastic cone shaped design and it's
concave seating ring around its base with great care.
She began turning it this way and that way as if she was
concerned about it. Then she quickly placed it back on
the cart and took hold of the other one instead, a much
bigger one.
Again she held it up for scrutiny, but this time she had
a big smile on her face. She placed it down at Martha's
loosely puckered hole and began the process of fitting
this never before used gigantic plug, which would be
more appropriately used on large farm animals than human
beings, to the purpose for which it was made.
Again Martha made all the instinctive sounds that she
reluctantly trained herself to make. Then, somewhere
along the way, Martha felt a sudden unexpected pain. The
same kind of pain she felt when she was being first
acclimated to bung hole play. The same kind of pain that
only a thoroughly stretched butt hole could alleviate.
And the same kind of pain that now made her pretend
acting outburst once more real!
It took a little time to get the special plug all the
way in, and when it was, Martha's sphincter muscles
clamped tightly down around the base keeping the nozzle
firmly seated and sealed inside of her. Amanda then did
a little clean up of excess lubricant on Martha's big
taught derriere before removing her gloves. She then
went to where the hose was and prepared the cleansing
liquid for the enema bag.
Martha felt as if she had an over sized beer bottle
forced up her butt. It seemed like every major orifice
of hers had its own unique hurt. Her mouth ached
something awful from her ball gag. And the only meager
relief she obtained from this persistent sharp pain in
her jaws, was when she bit down hard on the rubber ball.
But that lasted for only a few seconds before her
muscles gave out and her mouth bounced back open,
stretching her lips to the point of almost tearing the
skin. Then each time she did it she felt another area of
hurt in her tongue. As she compressed the ball, it in
turned squashed her tongue flat inside her mouth. It was
like she was damned if she did and damned if she didn't.
She just couldn't win.
Her pussy was another hole surrounded by a red mass of
hard throbbing pain. When Amanda unceremoniously applied
the water jet to it, it did have a somewhat soothing
effect. Once the initial hair raising spike of pain
simmered down a bit. But now her swollen crack
oscillated away like the seconds on a clock--pain, pain,
pain, pain...
That left her with only one hole left and that was the
coup-de-ta. Her butt was stretch beyond human endurance.
The soft tissue that made up her rectum was never meant
to undergo such expanding abuse, not without suffering
some damage in kind. And if the physical pain in this
area wasn't enough, then the emotional trauma of having
to actually go through another humiliating act of
perverted sodomizing was literally driving Martha over
the edge.
And through all this painful drama, Dr Bridgestone was
having the time of her life. It had been a long time
since she felt this good, watching her Dear Friend
experiencing one long painful and humiliating event
after another. She was so into what her assistant was
doing that she was literally sitting on the edge of her
seat in excitement waiting for the next round of
creative abuse.
Her wait wasn't long, for Amanda returned with an
intravenous stand in tow. It was one of those old tall
black metal stands with a heavy metal base on wheels.
The wheels were squeaking making what Amanda had hanging
from it all the more sinister. She placed it on the side
of Martha so she could see it if she wanted too. Trying
to add more negative anxiety to Martha's cup which was
already full to the brim.
It took a little doing, but Martha was able to stretch
her neck and turn her head just enough to see the big
bag of greenish liquid hanging from one side of the "T"
shaped top. She began to cry again. How was she ever
going to take all that liquid in? Was there no end to
this painful existence.
The nurse had what looked like over three liters of
cleansing fluid ready to be run through her bowels. The
times when Martha received such gut distending enemas
from her former owners were held fast and clear in her
mind. The unbearable cramping and abdominal pain was far
worse than any bloated menstrual cycle she ever had. And
then being forced to hold it, many minutes and sometimes
hours at a time, and then being put through hell with
all the name calling of pregnant slut, a lazy overeating
cow and a beer guzzling trailer trash blimp. It was all
coming back to her. Every horrifying second of it. All
she could do was to hope that the black nurse would not
take it to that extreme.
"All right Ms. Doe, time for your bowel cleaning. Now
keep your ass steady and this will go very easy. If you
make it hard for me, or make me spill any of this smelly
stuff on my clean white uniform I will make your ass as
red as your labia lips."
Martha knew better than to fight. Another lesson she
learned at the sadistic hands of Lisa and Anna. And it
didn't take long either. Pain can be a most persuading
element in any difference of opinion.
Amanda worked the tube through the nozzle until she
heard a dull snap indicating that the tube was now
locked in place. She then walked over to where the bag
was and adjusted the plastic flow regulator. Martha
didn't bother to watch the vile greenish liquid oozing
down the tube and out of her line of sight. But Amanda
did, and so did the woman doctor, both with growing
satisfying smiles on their faces.
It felt cold, very cold, and a bit stinging. It was now
just a matter of time before she felt the rest of the
expected discomfort and pain that followed such an inner
cleansing.
Amanda walked back to Martha's rear end and looked
closely at the interface where warm pliable flesh met
hard cold unrelenting plastic. No leaks. Her open smiled
reflected how proud she was with herself for choosing
the much larger of the two butt plugs instead.
While she was looking in that general area she noticed
how inflamed Martha's labia lips where. Then she felt an
over powering need to touch them, without any gloves on.
Her hand moved in that direction almost on its own
accord. Amanda gasped and Martha shrieked when her soft
fleshy finger began rubbing up against Martha's red
throbbing mass. This was definitely not like Amanda to
do such a thing. She was a state certified nurse and she
knew better than to touch a patient's sexual area
without any gloves on, even though it was thoroughly
cleaned. Besides, she wasn't attracted to women, was
she?
She kept on touching Martha there and a slow wave of
pleasure seemed to flow over her while she did it.
Martha on the other hand tried her best to wiggle away
from the thousand dagger like touch of pain. She slowly
pulled her finger away and held it up to her face
examining it with a critical eye. She placed it near her
nose and took a little whiff. There was the noticeable
scent of detergent, but there was a faint lingering
aroma of something else too, arousal.
Once more she questioned her rather unorthodox sexual
action with Martha. Was she developing some latent
homosexual yearnings? Could her uninhibited interaction
with Martha's suffering be the reason for some lesbian
desires to be freely brought to the surface? Or was it
all just a simple side effect for having so much fun and
pleasure in being the instrument of Martha's torment.
Again she pondered both concepts as she absentmindedly
began rubbing her scented finger and thumb together as
if the heat would release more of the sexual pheromones
like perfume. Then an idea crossed her mind. A possible
way for her to know for sure.
The woman doctor was also wondering why Amanda was
becoming so touchy feely with Martha. She knew Amanda
was neither a lesbian nor bisexual from all the tests
she gave her when she become her assistant. But her
present actions were speaking volumes in contradiction
to those results. Could Amanda be lying to her all this
time? Those tests were specifically designed to note the
credibility level of the person taking them. And
Amanda's scores indicated that she was at the top end of
being truthful. So what was going on here?
Amanda returned behind Martha with a liberal amount of
salve on her bare finger. She hesitated for a couple of
seconds trying to determine if this was really what she
wanted to do. Then in one swift move she applied the
medicine to Martha's visibly redden crotch.
Martha immediately jerked her bound and mounted body
from the sudden coldness. At first the cold felt like
another painful infliction. But as Amanda continued to
gently rubbed the salve around the inflamed area, it
felt like a raging fire was being quenched by a bucket
of soothing cool water.
The trained and compassionate nurse in Amanda made sure
the medicine was generously applied to all red and
swollen areas of her patients crotch. Then something
happened, and it happened rather slowly. Her spatula
like finger began moving and caressing those sensitive
areas that were not in need of medical attention. Those
noted interesting and arousing areas up near her
clitoral hood and deep within the folds of her labia
lips.
She smiled when she added a second finger to help smear
the lubricating jelly like substance in and out of her
pussy and then around and around the apex of Martha's
sexual love mound. Amanda's selfless devotion to
humanity and pledge to help the sick and injured was
slowly being nudged off center and in its place was a
growing self-indulging ego. Even though her action could
be construed as giving pleasure to Martha, there was a
dark reason for her sudden contrived giving nature.
Being an educated and very sensuous woman, Amanda knew
exactly what to do to make herself feel sexually
satisfied on those dark lonely nights when the need was
there but a partner wasn't. So she easily knew how to
make Martha pleasantly aroused as well. Thus she
continued with her little deviant excursion into
masturbating Martha's pussy. But the pleasure she was
giving Martha was not without its sinister side. It was
simply a means to an end. An end that was going to leave
Martha unfulfilled and frustrated as hell.
That was the reason behind her erotic care giving
madness. It was also the reason why she was feeling so
good about it too. A wonderful spiraling excitement that
was having more of the characteristics of pure sexual
arousal than simply the joy of revenge. In fact, it had
a mixture of both, lust and evil.
Amanda felt like her entire sexuality was being altered
in some way. A sense of rebirth and transformation into
a slightly different, but very passionate woman. A woman
who wasn't exactly attracted to other women per say. To
their mental or physical femaleness. To how they looked,
how they acted, or how they felt under her touch. What
attracted Amanda to her own kind was what she could do
to them. To dominate them, their will and their soft
smooth curving bodies. To make them whimper with delight
or pain, depending on her mood. And what's more, she
began to fantasize what she could do to them, to force
them to please her in any way that she desired at the
snap of her fingers.
Even the idea of another woman's tongue on her own
yearning pussy no longer made her feel uncomfortable. If
it were all under the umbrella of a domination drama,
with the naked bitch on her knees and obedient to her
will, then the thought of lesbian oral sex was really
making Amanda hot. Especially if the submissive woman
giving her the pussy tongue bath was Martha.
And Martha, she was lost in an existence of pain and
pleasure. Another deja-vu event of her hellish life with
Lisa and Anna. They too kept her oscillating from pain
to pleasure like a yo-yo on a string. And she knew why
they were doing it to her too. They were trying to make
her association of pain and pleasure permanent.
Whenever they allowed her to experience erotic pleasure,
it always came with some kind of physical or emotional
distress at the same time. From being flogged by Anna
while Lisa fingered her pussy into a wet sexual froth,
to when she had to masturbate herself while sitting on
the floor in front of a dinner party full of Lisa's
perverted women friends. It was always the same, pain
and pleasure, pleasure and pain.
A day didn't go by when at least one of those two didn't
force their perverted sadomasochistic sexuality down her
throat, and it was hard for her not to fall victim to
their trap. She sometimes wondered if she hadn't done so
already and just didn't know it yet. Even now, as the
black nurse fingered her pussy beyond the scope of
medical necessity, she longed to have that orgasm she
was quickly building into.
Even with the increasing discomfort from her expanding
stomach. Even with the pain in her over stretched anus
and mouth. Even with the strong hurtful ache in her
shoulders, back and arms, and the total shame and
humiliation of being treated like something less than
human ever since she was brought into this pain clinic.
She still wanted that orgasm in all that she was
feeling.
She desperately wanted it because they were all acting
on her in unison and they were all telling her the same
thing. That she was now worthy and deserving of the
orgasm she longed for. It was the way Lisa and Anna
lived, and how they tried to train her to their
lifestyle too. That erotic pleasure was nothing if
physical and mental suffering did not accompany it. Then
it hit her with a solemn thud. She had in fact been
successfully trained by Lisa and Anna after all. She had
come to associate pain with pleasure, always. No matter
who or when she was experiencing it. As was the case
right now.
Lisa and Anna had succeeded in their evil hidden agenda.
What she once thought was a short period of being
blackmailed into becoming their eager servant and
sometimes sex slave, had turned out to be more evil and
destructive to her psyche and way of life than she could
have ever imagined. Those two had succeeded in turning
her into a pain slut against her own will.
"No, No, NO!" Martha tried to yell through her gag. That
is something she would not accept! Never would she
accept being turned into an object of sexual pain and
pleasure. A simple masochistic entity of perverted lust.
She would fight it, deny it, endure it, but never ever
would she accept it. Never would it become the basis of
her sexuality. She would refuse it in all of its forms.
Just like she mentally refused to accept becoming the
lesbian lover to Lisa and Anna, even though her body
told her otherwise.
But it was all so hard for Martha. Even now, as Amanda
was aggressively spiraling her to an all encompassing
awareness of ultimate pleasure, it was so hard for her
to deny it. Oh how she wanted that orgasm so badly. And
in her weakened hurting state it was just too much for
her to keep denying. So she decided to accept it.
In her mind, since she was the one who was making the
choice to accept it, it was all right for her to do so.
She was not acting out of instinct or in response to
being trained like an animal when given the right
stimulus. It was her choice and her choice only. She was
going to take that orgasm because she chose to take it
and not because it was now a part of her pain slut
identity. But just as she was about to fall over the
edge and into the abyss of radiating erotic bliss, it
stopped.
Amanda stopped playing with Martha's pussy and Martha
was stopped from having that glorious orgasm that she
chose to take. A choice that would have reaffirmed her
right, and identity, as an independent woman and a
viable human being. But as Martha ceased her spiral
climb to ecstasy and autonomy, she felt herself falling
back into the flames and pains of hell. And in the back
of her mind she heard a little voice telling her to
"accept". A voice that was rising in volume and
credibility with each successive failed rebellion on her
part.
Amanda stood back up and placed her finger under her
nose. The odor of the medicine was there, but so was
another aromatic fragrance. It had that unique full
ripen musky scent of sex . She closed her eyes and let
that fragrance permeate her being. To think, she was the
cause of this smell, from the woman that she had
maliciously toyed with like a cat with a mouse.
Amanda became enamored to the aroma. She could feel
herself flashing hot, her skin becoming clammy and her
breasts and pussy aching to be touched. She took her
free hand and slowly dragged it down the front of her
nurse's uniform. And to those areas where skin touched
skin, goose bumps formed. She cupped her breast over her
uniform and began to squeeze and rub them. Her black
fingers with their dragon like red nails almost
disappearing into the snow white fabric. A soft faint
moan seemed to glide through the air as her head tilted
back in the total pleasure of the moment.
What brought her back to the living was the sudden jerk
of her body. She was just about to fall over backwards
when some kind of automatic biological failsafe
mechanism kicked in. It forced her to regain the proper
standing position. Then Amanda's conscious mind took
over and once more directed her on to the proper path
for her nursing duties.
Doctor Bridgestone was so astonished at what just
happened that she immediately went to her notebook and
again began writing down her observations and thoughts.
She ended her burst of recording by putting the names
Lisa and Amanda at the top of the page and then circling
them together, over and over again. She finally stopped
the mindless action and put a question mark next to the
circle and then underlined it boldly. She closed her
notebook and put it off to the side as she then went
back to watching the fascinating drama before her.
By now Amanda had the ball gag unbuckled and was trying
to remove it from Martha's mouth.
"My goodness! I am having one heck of a time trying to
get this ball out of your mouth Ms. Doe. Are you sure
you're not trying to keep it in because you like it
there so much Ms. Doe?"
Of course Amanda knew that Martha would do no such
thing. She just thought she would add a little teasing
anxiety to Martha's current pleasure-LESS condition. But
Martha made sure there was no doubt in what her
intentions were, concerning the removal of the jaw
breaking gag. So when the nurse stopped her pulling she
shook her head wildly from side to side in a most
empathic and flamboyant NO to answer the nurse's
question.
Amanda again tried to remove the gag. She took both
leather straps into her hands and pulled really hard
this time, but the ball did not budge. She then tried to
shake it out, jerk it out and she even tried twisting it
out to which Martha let loose with one agonizing muffled
squeal.
Finally, Amanda tried one last idea. She put one of her
hands on Martha's forehead, and used the other to
grabbed both of the straps. She counted to three and
then pulled with one hand while pushing with the other.
Doctor Bridgestone could not stop from laughing! Her
assistant's antic reminded her of some old slap stick
comedy routine she once saw on television when she was a
child.
Again Amanda met with defeat as Martha almost lost her
teeth in the process. Amanda took a minute to catch her
breath and to think about this situation. A couple
minutes went by when suddenly Amanda's facial expression
changed to that of having a great idea. She then
disappeared behind Martha's field of vision.
Martha began moving her head around as if trying to work
the kinks out of her neck. That's when she caught sight
of that enema bag. The liquid was about a little more
than one third gone now. 'Is that all' she exclaimed to
herself.
Her bowels were already gurgling something fierce as
they were effortlessly loading up with cleaning fluid.
Another wave of self-pity began to flow over her spirit
when suddenly she felt something being placed across her
forehead. A few seconds later her whole head was being
pulled back hard up against the vertical wooden stock.
Amanda had taken a long wide strap and used it to fix
Martha's head in one stationary spot. She threaded the
leather ends through two holes that seemed to be made
for this very purpose in the stock. Once she had the
straps passed through she pulled back hard on them and
buckled the strap in place. Now Martha's head was
totally unable to move.
Amanda was ready to try again. This time she was going
to use her free hand to push down on Martha's lower jaw
at the same time she was trying to pull the immovable
ball out. She didn't bother to count to three this time,
she simply started pulling and pushing. Martha could
only wave her hands and fingers erratically in distress
to the nurse's determination of getting the ball out of
her mouth, but it was working!
Little by little, more of the ball was showing itself on
the other side of Martha's teeth. A visual element that
urged Amanda on even more, while Martha rolled her
fingers up into tighter and tighter fists. Even the good
doctor got into the furor of the moment as she continued
to squirm in her chair, getting closer and closer to its
edge.
Suddenly a large pop was heard. Amanda almost fell over
backwards from the explosion of energy that was released
when the ball broke free. Doctor Bridgestone also
practically fell off of her chair at the same exact
time. And poor Martha, her entire body seemed to vibrate
in a fit of pain as a result of having her jaws
liberate. The ungodly piercing pain of having muscles
used again was making her wish that the humongous gag
was still inside of her mouth.
"Wow! Now that was something! I do believe we won't be
using this gag on you again Ms. Doe. Unless of course
your mouth opening is stretched wider to receive it like
your rear end was."
Those biting words were lost on Martha. She was too much
into herself, trying to make her jaws and tongue work
like a normal human being without any pain and numbness
that seemed to persist no matter what she did. abating.
"Ok Ms. Doe, time for dinner. Open wide my dear."
"Ppp... Pee... Peeesss!"
"Oh my goodness! You can talk! Well, sort of. What is it
that your trying to tell me dear?"
"Ppeees, Ar-raa. Ma ame ee Ar-raa..."
Martha closed her eyes tightly in frustration. She knew
what she was saying was gibberish. She only had a small
degree of controlled movement in her aching jaws and
practically no control at all in her dead tongue. So
whatever she tried to say would not come out the way she
wanted. Even something as simple as "Please, my name is
Martha."
"Oh, I see, well then maybe we can look into that later,
but in the mean time Ms. Doe, how about you open your
mouth and let me fit this feeding device in it so you
can get some much needed nourishment inside of you."
When the black rubber thing came into Martha's vision
her eyes popped open wide with fright. Her body
instinctively tried to move away, but the massive wooden
stock held her firmly in place. She tried to move her
head away too, but the leather belt across her forehead
was unrelenting in its grip. All she could do was to say
a direct No, which came out more like a startled "OH"
and closed her jaws. Again her eyes closed tight in
reaction to the hard pain that she felt radiating in her
jaw muscles from such an uncomfortable simple act as
closing her mouth.
"Well, so you choose to be stubborn then Ms. Doe. Fine,
two can play that kind of game."
Martha felt the nurse's hand on her chin and then a
growing downward pressure on it. Martha tried hard to
keep her mouth shut as the tears forming in the corners
of her tightly shut eyes proved, but she simply did not
have the energy or muscle integrity for such a battle.
Her lower jaw simply separated from her upper one with
hardly any effort by the nurse at all.
Then Martha felt something being placed in her mouth
just behind her lower teeth. Next, the downward force on
her chin was gone. She closed her mouth again, only to
find that her front teeth came into direct contact with
something hard and rubbery. She quickly opened her eyes
to see what it was, but she could see nothing. She even
tried to look down her nose to the point of looking
crossed eyed, but still she could not see what was
keeping her lower teeth from coming in contact with her
upper ones.
She tried to use her tongue to feel what it might be,
but with it still being numb from having that gigantic
ball compressing it down for so long all she was able to
detect was that it was some kind of round curved object
that kept her teeth from meeting.
Then she felt that downward force again, but this time
it was pulling her lower jaw down via that thing in her
mouth. The force seemed much stronger too. And in a
blink of an eye, her lower jaw was forced all the down
as far as it could possibly go.
Amanda had used a rubber coated metal hook with a length
of rope attached to the end of it. Once she had Martha's
jaws separated enough to manipulate the hook end in her
mouth and over her lower teeth, it was a simple act of
threading the rope through an eye bolt in the underside
of the lower stocks and then pull on it with both hands
to force Martha's mouth open. She then tied the rope off
and was now free to insert the feeding device.
Martha could only watch in helpless misery as the black
rubber crescent shaped device was worked into her gaping
mouth.
The device was a kind of mouth guard that prize fighters
use to protect their teeth in the boxing ring. Instead
of being one hard wedge shaped unit, this one had two
hard rubber pieces. One for each jaw and connected
together by a flexible membrane. And at its front was a
black rubber tube coming from it that ended with a
squeeze bulb.
It took Amanda some time to fit the grooved side of one
part of the mouth guard around Martha's upper teeth. Not
because the unit was difficult to work with, but because
Martha's lips were stretch very taught about her teeth
from having her mouth forced open as it was. Thus it was
necessary for Amanda to use another rubber coated hook,
much smaller than the first, to stretch Martha's lips
even more so, so that her teeth were free enough for her
to work the grooved rubber guard into place.
Finally it was done and Martha's entire upper teeth were
wrapped in the hard rubber guard, which only left the
bottom ones to do and that was the easy part. She only
had to untie the rope, twist and pull the hook out of
Martha's mouth like she was removing a hook from a big
mouth bass and then shove her lower jaw up and into the
corresponding mated grove surface waiting for it. And
that's how easy it was too.
Of course Martha tried to fight it, but the muscles in
her jaw were so tired and hurting that whatever act of
rebellion she could mount was nothing more than a token
effort. In less than a minute Martha had both her top
and bottom rows of teeth completely covered in black
rubber. Amanda needed only to inflate the feeding device
via the squeeze bulb next.
With one hand holding Martha's lower jaw up, Amanda used
her other hand to begin the inflation process. Being a
small device it didn't take her long until she could
remove her hand from Martha's lower jaw. It was a rather
simple device at heart. The hard rubber grooved halves
acted as an anchoring point for fixing the device to her
teeth. The flexible membrane connecting the two halves
together would expand and keep the mouth open from the
pressure of the air being pumped inside. It was easy to
tell when the device was at its optimum point just by
looking and feeling the pressure against the wearer's
cheeks.
The flexible membrane was such that the side next to the
wearer cheeks would allow for expansion out into the
cheek pouch while the side on the inside of the mouth
would barely expand at all. Thus when Amanda felt that
Martha's cheek pouch had expanded out enough all she had
to do was to stop pumping. A miniature valve near the
bulb kept the air in until one wanted it out.
Again Amanda felt the wave of eroticism flow over her
that bordered on being pure sadistic lust. Each time she
squeezed that black rubber bulb she knew she was making
Martha's existence all the more painful. At first it was
rather funny watching Martha's cheeks expanding outward
with each successive squeeze. But when Martha's lips
began to stretch out and around the growing unstoppable
blackness inside, Amanda could not help but laugh at the
Puffer like fish impression that Martha was making.
When Amanda's eyes could no longer see any more funny
changes in Martha's bloated mouth, her laughter stopped.
She then took her fingers and touched, poked and
squeezed the hard ballooned like structure that was once
Martha's soft supple cheek flesh.
It was soon getting harder and harder for her to squeeze
that bulb, but the mounting feedback she felt in her
hand only compelled her to squeeze the bulb more until
finally she had to stop. She was afraid that any more
pressure might result in busting the black membrane that
was now jutting out from the front of Martha's mouth. A
dangerous situation that was on the verge of splitting
the corners of her mouth already.
A good part of Martha's eyes were now hidden behind her
big ballooned out cheeks. So a lot of Martha's torment
could not be seen by Amanda. But it sure could be heard
all right. From the moans and groans of agonizing pain
that seemed to be repeating themselves on a regular
basis.
"There you are Ms. Doe, all set and ready to be fed. Let
me just place this bag full of liquid goodies on the
stand next to your enema bag like so, and now I can push
this feeding tube right into your mouth."
Martha heard the words, but they were like water over a
duck's back. Then she saw the firm plastic tube with the
blunted end cross her field of vision. An area of vision
that was cut in half now because of her own bulging
cheeks. She could remotely feel the nurse work the end
of feeding tube through a small tight opening, just
above where that black rubber inflation tube came from.
She then felt the tube move inside of her mouth. A few
times it would bang up against the roof of her mouth and
then the surface of her tongue, which was only now
coming out of its numbing slumber. Then she felt it
touch the back of her throat and she almost gagged.
That's when Amanda quickly backed the tube out a bit and
left it where it was.
"Now Ms. Doe, I am going to start the liquid flowing
from the bag. It will move down the tube and into your
mouth slowly. I want it to flow from the tube drop by
drop to make it easy for you to swallow. I suggest you
do not try to stop it or let it back up into your mouth
Ms Doe. Even though the liquid is full of vitamins,
minerals and all the amino acids that a growing body
needs, it tastes just awful! That is why I am having it
drip down the back of your throat and past your taste
buds like this. The feeding device has sealed your mouth
completely allowing nothing to leak out at all. And if
for some reason you do find a way to let it back up into
your mouth, you then risk the possibility of choking
yourself to death.
"Another direct no-no of hospital rules I might add. I
know that it is going to be hard for you to take the two
liters of nourishment inside of you, especially with
your enema going on at the same time, but you must!
"I will be back in about an hour or so to see how you
are doing. If you are a good girl and you finished your
yummy drink and have taken in your entire enema then I
will let you empty your bowels and put you to bed. If
not, if I see any fluid left, even if it's less than an
ounce in either your enema bag or feeding bag, then I
will leave you for another hour to finish it. Thus it
would be to your benefit to be a good patient and take
it all in by the time I come back."
Amanda then preformed a quick check on both ends of
Martha's fluid intake devices before patting her on her
butt and wishing her bon appetite.
Tears began to form in the corners of Martha's eyes, but
with her cheeks so bloated as they were a small pool
began to form putting her now limited vision into a
constant blurry state. 'Oh when was she going to get a
break!' she thought to herself. There was practically no
place in her body that did not hurt. Even her pussy
where the nurse applied the soothing salve, it too had
that dull throb. A sad painful reminder of how the
ultimate humiliating sexual pleasure was purposely
denied her at the last second.
For the briefest of time, when she was conscious and
finally in control of herself in the hospital, she
thought her life was actually going to get better. But
now, she was right back in the snake pit only with new
handlers. Her life had become a series of painful and
humiliating events, which she had absolutely no control
of and it was constantly getting worse! But there was
one thing for her to hold onto, to keep her from going
completely over the edge.
It was hope. Hope in its simplest form. The hope of a
clean warm bed and time to rest her abused aching body
on the near horizon. That is what her life had turned
into now. One focused optimistic reality that was within
her reach to grasp. That little spot of hope, a promise
of something better waiting for her right around the
corner. If she could only persevere with the present,
the future would bring it's reward.
Thus with each successive drop falling down the back of
her throat. With each little gurgle and twinge of pain
forming in her gut. And with each throb, burning and
spiking pain emanating from muscles that she never knew
she had, there was still that ray of hope waiting for
her. The hope of a nice warm bed to rest in was enough
to get her through the moment.
But soon her belly and bowels would be stretched out to
their fullest capacity. And her back would begin to hurt
something fierce from the pain of her sagging abdomen.
Would the promise of a good night's sleep be enough to
get her through that? She could only hope that it would.
The good doctor behind the one way mirror closed her
eyes gently. She took a full deep breath and held it for
a count of ten. Then she exhaled with one fast whoosh.
When no more air passed out she simply remained still
and not breathing for a time. Then she inhaled and
slowly opened her eyes. It was a simple exercise in
relaxation. She did this sometimes after a period of
emotional or physical excess. And what she had just
witness put her at the peak of joy and happiness. But
now it was time for her to play concerned doctor again
and she needed to put herself back into that mode again.
So she gathered up her notebook and left the observation
room, but not without taking one last look at her "Dear
Friend". A look that was accompanied by a very big happy
smile. And as she closed the door she performed that
relaxing exercise one more time.
END
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 66