Chapter 5
All night Regina lay in that back room. Faintly she heard the sounds of day passing into night and then into day again. She heard people in the salon outside. She heard water running and toilets flushing. For a long time she heard nothing.
She worried that Jennifer would be concerned that she did not come home. They were never out of each other's care. They always knew where each other was.
But now there was something new in her life which had nothing to do with Jennifer or anyone else. Something new which frightened and confused her. But it was also something which filled her with an ineffable joy. She felt like a flower or a child at play.
Even the pain in the long night was a small price to pay for the pleasure. To be taken care of, she thought, how wonderful!
The only thing which troubled her was where Morgan had gone. Why had he left her? She did not like being left alone. She never had. When she was very little she had been very scared of the dark.
Now that she was older she was not frightened any more. At least she was not frightened very much. At any rate this was a friendly kind of darkness. It held forbidden pleasures as well as foreboding terrors.
The dark was like a sweet father who would take care of her forever. But sometimes during the fitful sleep of the night she wondered if there were anyone there at all.
She thought that maybe there was no one. She thought maybe there was no one to come and loosen the chains she was bound with all through the night. She began to cry, feeling very sorry for herself.
She stirred herself and thought that somehow it was morning. A little girl came in with a tray of breakfast.
"I hope you slept well," she said.
"Fairly well, thank you," she said.
"I'm Mr. Morgan's niece," the little girl said, answering the unspoken question in Regina's mind. "I'm living with him. I help around the school and the salon. He sent you this breakfast. We have lots of people come to stay with us at the school."
Regina began to eat the breakfast hungrily. The sexual excitement of the night before gave her an appetite twice her normal one. She wolfed down the toast, eggs, and coffee in record time.
"Here," the little girl said, "this is for you too." She handed Regina a flimsy-looking nightgown.
When she had finished the breakfast she peeled away what remained of her brief bikini panties and put on the nightgown. The whole time she did this the child stood and stared at her. It made her a little uncomfortable.
"Are you staring at me?" she asked the little girl.
"Why, yes, I am," she said. "I've never seen anyone as pretty as you. What's your name?"
"My name is Regina," she said. "What's yours?"
"My name is Mary," she said. "I live here with Mr. Morgan. He's my uncle."
"Do you live here all the time?" Regina asked.
"I do now," she said, "ever since my mother and daddy died."
At that moment Morgan strode into the room.
He turned to Mary and said, "You better go and do the things you have to do. Go on, now."
The little girl waved goodby to Regina and ran out the door. Morgan closed it behind her.
"I guess you are a little rested from last night," he said. "It remains to be seen how you will work out here. You haven't done very much work with the machines or done any hairstyling. But that is not really the important adjustment you will have to make.
"Many girls come here and just don't make it with us. We have strict standards and we will not lower them. Even some girls who come and see and taste of what we have to offer, fail to pass the muster.
"It is not enough merely to enjoy the pleasure we will give you. You must crave what we want. You must luxuriate in what others tolerate. You must become a real devotee of torture and pain.
"Only then will you be fulfilled. Only then will you satisfy us. You must satisfy us. We do not allow anyone here who does not obey and submit.
"Did you speak to that little girl who brought you your breakfast?" he asked. "Yes, I did," she said.
"Well, even she has to please. She is only ten years old but she pleases. She submits. She must do like all others here do. She surrenders to the pain and discipline. Without discipline all would be lost."
While he was speaking Regina was thinking of the delicious pain of the comb and clip last night. She wondered if the cock of a man could feel as wonderful as the teeth of the comb.
She thought about her asshole and how she felt completely open and violated when he ripped her up it. She thought about the clips on her sides and especially on her nipples. She remembered the tearing searing pain as he ripped them off from her body.
There was nothing to do but surrender. But she had doubts about herself. She doubted whether she was brave enough to stand the pain. She doubted whether she was strong enough to stand the discipline.
Many others before her had tried and failed. Could she do it now? she wondered.
As if he were reading her mind, Morgan said, "You are wondering if you are cut out for this? Well, let's see right now."
At that he whipped a leather-thonged whip from behind the barber chair. He snapped it in the air. With no warning he brought it around and across her nubile form. It wrapped itself around her waist and slashed around her back.
She screamed and tingled with warm sunbursts of pleasure.
"Take off that nightgown," he said. "I want you all naked."
She stripped the filmy thing quickly from her body and threw it in a heap on the floor.
"Bend over backwards," he said.
She turned her back on him and bent as far over backwards as she could. Her back ached and her beautiful tits swung down almost brushing her chin. She looked at him upside down.
She saw him wave the whip high over his head. The thrill of terror came as she saw it come whirring down through the air. It hit her oquarely on the flat of her stretched-out stomach.
The blow sent shivers through her already shaking midsection. The chills reverberated up through her shoulders. Her ass quivered with the tension of maintaining the painful posture.
Her whole body quivered with the thrill of putting herself so at his mercy. The strain was excruciating in its pleasure.
'Take me, take me," she groaned, as he whipped her open underside. "I want to have it. I want it. Please give it to me. Make me over. Make me do it. I'll do anything!"
He waved the whip higher and higher. He aimed it to snap around her snatch and into the cleft between her thighs.
She thrilled when the flashing tips found their way into those tender parts. There was no way to describe the feeling of exaltation and humiliation she felt. The snap of cold leather turned to burning pain as it careened into her juicy twat.
No one could tell her this wasn't the ultimate pleasure, she thought. Now I'm free to be what I please, she smiled inwardly. No more of this hiding shit.
Once more Morgan expertly guided the leather thongs to tingling pleasure in her hairy-forested patch of black. Only a master could have made so perfect a score. Never did he miss, never did he falter.
The man of all moments for her now was there. He could revile her and curse her but she did not mind. The pain was growing and redoubling with each exact stroke. The loud cracks on bare belly skin became liquid thuds as the tips found their way into her steamy hole of joy.
Nor did the master neglect her nether reaches. He made sure her tiny crack and asshole did not suffer to be left out of the games. With skill he showed the leather whip where to send its craft of joy.
Another slash came down. This one landed square and straight down her great crack. The tip of one of the thongs found the tiny hole and snapped deeply into it. Regina thrilled as the whip reamed out her shit hole. Beautiful and empty was the feeling she got from the lash.
Morgan's arm was made of steel. She could almost feel its sinewy strength through the long hungering leather tentacles. Tirelessly he whipped her to a froth. Her cunt was literally steaming with passion. She could feel the juice of joy dripping out of it and down the crease where her ass met her legs.
Oh, such loveliness, she thought. She wished it could go on forever. She wished the pain and the agony could last the rest of her life. She never wanted to come down or back. The plain people who lived in the plain world without pain were not the people she wanted to live with and for.
He was hurting her. The man who made her feel as if she had a purpose and a joy in life was here. She loved to eat shit. To eat shit was the least of anything she would do for him. She craved him to make her do things. As she formed the word "things" in her mind she thrilled at its sexual pendulous feeling.
Each time Regina drifted off into her pleasure-fogged reveries, Morgan grew more enraged. It made a perfect circle.
The more she dreamed of pleasure the more he delivered pain. The more he whipped her revealed and widespread genitals the more she flew in heights of joyous delight. The more she soared the more he beat.
The circle was all the more complete because neither knew what the other was doing. Neither tried to please the other. It was as natural and bizarre as Siamese twins.
His rage was real and savage when he saw the half-formed dreamy smile on her back-tilted head. He longed to slash open her genitals and cut her neck when he saw this.
Her pleasure was real when she felt the lash and the burning passion it kindled in her loins. She did not know her pleasure provoked so much anger. She did not realize the anger she provoked sent more pleasure streaming her way.
The slashes on her belly and thighs crisscrossed each other in ugly welts. Her cunt was bleeding slightly and the blood tinged the tips of the myriad thongs. The blood on the tips made their slashing more painful.
"My dear Regina," Morgan said, "you do not seem to fully appreciate the gravity of your situation. You are at my mercy. I can do what I like with you. I will not hesitate to use my power. You must comply with my every wish."
The words made Regina all goose-bumpy. All through her neck and arched-over back she felt the tingles of delight. She spread her legs a little wider and tensed her belly expectantly. She did not have long to wait.
Like a ghost in silence Morgan moved around to her front. The sight he beheld was the beautiful girl bent over backwards. All the delights of her young form were exposed to him. The tender rolls of flesh aching to be beaten and pummelled were there in all their glory. There were the taut and rosy nipple tips and the tawny crescents of her back-hanging breasts.
As his eyes traveled down the voluptuous contours of her body he came to her hill of pleasure. The hair was thick and perfumed with her blood, sweat, and sweet love juice. The posture of submission and abandon she maintained with visible strain stirred him in the bowels of his desire.
But along with his desire at seeing her recumbent and open was a desire to make her hurt. He saw in her posture the possibilities of pain and suffering. He longed to see her wince and to hear her cry out.
To see her squirm against the bonds of his own design was his ultimate pleasure. To see her terror at the prospect of torture thrilled him to his core.
There was no return from this precipice of desire. He swung the whip around sidearm and brought it, sucking air, across her thighs. Back and forth he treated each leg to a taste of the pain and torture.
Regina stiffened her body even more. The new direction of the blows rekindled the flames of desire which had turned to embers while Morgan had stood ogling her. How can he know so well? she thought.
The whip slapped around the back of her thigh and found the tender and less tanned flesh on its inner surface. This seat of pain and pleasure responded with a tingling which was a joy-shot right to the center of her guts.
"Oh," she moaned. "Do me, do me like that till I crawl!"
Morgan said nothing but slashed more viciously with his instrument of exquisite torture. The fiendish strands wove into a pattern of humming passion in the air and smashed themselves like a swarm of horny bees on her hanging crotch parts.
Closer and closer he came with the whip to perfect accuracy. Each blow came around the back of her thighs and snapped in a waiting crevice of delight. Her crack ached. Her asshole bulged out and sucked in with desire. Her cuntlips engorged themselves with blood and spun a magic feeling through her lower stomach.
She dreamed of being impaled on spikes and jagged cocks. Her reveries were of bloody impaling and twisting pain. The dreams flowed in and out her mind with the crashing and tingling of the whip.
His ways were so enticing. He lured her in with her own lust. Her pain was redoubled as her thighs spread her cuntlips further and further apart. She longed to be punished there.
"There, there!" she moaned, deep, deep in her sexy throat.
Morgan seemed to understand. Perhaps it was the movement of her pussy spreading further and further. Only a master of the arts of torture would have perceived the tiny quivers of longing to be hurt. But Morgan was such a man. Few could match his devilish and inventive feats of pain. Few could match his cruelty when the victim cried for mercy from her own lust. There was no mercy in him.
So it was with Regina. There was no mercy for her luscious melting pussy. He saw and he conquered instantly. He brought the whip singing through the close, fetid air of the torture room. It struck home with a searing sting which cut her straight up the middle.
Her clit revolted in agonies but she melted with the pain and humiliation which she craved.
"Oh yes," she said. "Yes, yes, yes. Now is the time."
"You bet your sweet ass, my little delight," he said. He lifted his heavily shod foot and gave her a shoving kick with the hard heel of it. The well-placed blow shot right between her aching thighs to her honey-haired lips. It jolted her head back further and knocked her sprawling on the floor.
"Yes, the time is now, Miss Shoe-In-The-Hole," he sneered. "But you don't know what that means, yet."
As she lay on the floor he bent down and bound her legs and feet together by the ankles and wrists. When he was done she was trussed up like a calf at roundup time.
"Let's go to the branding," he said. "You look all ready."
Her heart quivered inside. This was true and real terror and she was genuinely frightened. It thrilled her. This was what she longed for. The excitement of arousal was nothing without this.
He carried her out the door and down the back way to the basement of the shop. Through the boiler room they went. Past all the old newspapers and garbage cans he carried her. It was dingy down there.
Then with one hand still holding Regina's naked form, he reached for a set of keys and opened an unobtrusive door at the far end of the basement.
He turned the key, walked in, and closed the door behind them without turning on the lights. When he did Regina saw a beautiful warm room with mirrors on the walls. All about were couches and surgical metal cabinets.
Alone one wall was a display of all kinds of scissors, tweezers, and knives. There were movable lights and hair dryers standing around.
Morgan carried Regina over to what looked like an operating table and laid her down on her side. Then he went over to one of the light blue metal cabinets and opened it.
From it he took a pair of black fishnet stockings, a pair of very high black high-heeled shoes, and a garter belt the likes of which Regina had never seen before.
The garter belt was black and looked lacey. But as he brought it near her she could see that it was embedded with pieces of broken glass. All around the belt part of the pieces stuck out. Some of the pieces were as large as one inch long. All the pieces looked very jagged and razor-sharp.
"What's that for?" she asked, a little apprehensively.
Without replying Morgan put down his load on a nearby table and withdrew a red silk handkerchief from his back pants pocket.
He swiftly pulled the thin restrainer around her face and into her mouth. He pushed her head not gently to the side and tied a very tight knot at the back of her head.
Regina looked up at him with wide and horrified eyes. The combination of the locked soundless room, the operating table, the glass-studded garter belt, and the gag, made her frightened.
"Don't be frightened, Regina," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you very much. It will all be over very soon if you just cooperate. Now don't move an inch."
He began untying the leather thongs from her wrists and ankles. When they were unbound he pressed first her wrists down. With his iron grip he forced them into the round metal clamps at the sides of the table and pressed a lever under the table, closing them around her delicate wrists.
Then he grabbed her squirming legs and rudely forced the garter belt up over her mountainous thighs and over her mound of joy. He fastened the jagged thing at the back of her waist and waited for her reaction.
The bloody stains were already appearing on her hips and thighs. The more she lay on the belt the harder it seemed to grow into her flesh.
"Maybe, now, you'll learn to he still," he said. "You will find that the more you move the more it will cut and gouge you. I advise you very strongly not to move at all, no matter what happens."
Saying no more, Morgan slipped on the tight net stockings. All the way up her statuesque legs he slid the stranded garment. When they were pulled tight he fastened them to the straps hanging down from the belt. Finally he put on the pinching shoes.
"You're all dressed up with nowhere to go," he said.
He took her legs and spread them apart. Then he tied each separately to a hook under the table. Thus secured, she was spread-eagled from the waist down on the table.
Regina felt as if her limbs would crack. The clamps on the table held her wrists so tightly that she could not move her hands at all. Her elbows were bent back over the design of the table so that they felt ready to crack.
Her legs were spread wide apart by the same electrical cords which had bound her in a previous torture. But she was also bent back from the hips over the edge of the table. Every movement was an agony. She tried to move as little as possible.
From the wall Morgan took one of the tweezers. It was a large one made of a heavy metal. Its tip was broad and flat. Where the two pieces met there were interlocking dents and nipples. It looked like a vicious affair designed to hold and never let go.
He came to the table and stood looking down at Regina for about fifteen seconds. A smile played over his effeminate and well-cared-for features.
He reached out with the tweezers and gave her a phenomenal pinch ! in the tit. It could hardly be called a pinch for it was more vicious than anything which should bear that name. It was more like the tearing of a ravenous beast.
She howled in her agony as the blood rushed to the abused nipple. She felt as if she were sinking into the table with the pain.
Morgan looked pleased with himself. He ran the tweezers lightly down from under her chin. He, let it wander over her captivating torso.
Where would the pain come next? Regina wondered. She shrank away from the instrument as it made its journey down her body. She did not have long to wait to find out the pain point.
He reached her mound of solid passion and played with the jungle of hair covering it. He let the tweezers wander with more than a little pressure through the tangle. He let his ' instrument pull the knotted strands where they were caught on each other.
There was no way for her to escape. She could not move that part of her body for the ropes tying her legs. Morgan's probing became more and more painful.
Suddenly he grabbed a single hair and yanked it straight out of her body. He held it up in the air over her head.
"This is what you deserve," he said. "Now for the disciplining. We'll see how you feel when your precious small forest is gone!"
Regina could not believe her ears. Her body jerked away from the descending tweezers. But there was no escape. Into the greasy and damp forest Morgan plunged his threatening instrument. One by one and then two by two he began.
The pulling was intense agony. She felt as if she were being stripped bare. The "yes" and the "no" were mingled in her mind. She did not know which way to turn. On that torture rack there was no way for her to turn.
Morgan became more wild. He pulled tufts from the beautiful curving top of her pussy. Then he descended into the depths of her lips. The tender junction between her legs and her vulva became his target. He pulled with abandon.
She cried out in agony as he pulled and balded her private parts. But he was heedless of her cries. He only seemed to hear them in his animal nature where they stirred him on to more cruel treatment.
Her pink pussy was becoming crimson with the blood from the viciously ripped-out hair roots. Morgan moved around to the foot of the table and removed his pecker from his fly. Taking careful aim he sent a stream of burning piss onto the raw cunt box he had nearly denuded.
Regina felt the stream as hot, searing release. All through her body she felt the pleasure of the torture. She groaned deep in her throat.
"Rip it out!" she begged.
Morgan attacked her bloody pussy again and to the accompaniment of her pants of pain ripped every hair from its delicate surface.