Chapter 2

Sunlight was streaming through the window when Ed Royse sat up on the edge of the bed and smiled down at Linda. He shook his head with a little smile. She was a redhead and he was nutty about blondes. She was big and he liked small women. She was nearly as tall as he, and he knew it was not unusual for a man to like shorter girls. She was also freckled, and magnificent, and he loved her.

Ed Royse was not afraid to work in a nation devoted to play while the machines did the work and the men who ran them—including MD's went on their semiannual strikes for more and more wages . . . which they received. No one wanted to have to take over the

work. Everyone was too busy playing. The birthrate was down; its descending line on the chart looked like a ski slope. What others called "fate" and "luck" were kind to the man who worked, and Ed did. And so did his girls. He looked forward to an early retirement (like in about three years) to live on his investments—coupled with Linda's, assuming she agreed to a permanent contract. He thought she would.

He ran his hand over the silken flesh of one big bare breast and tweaked the nipple. She wriggled, smiling, and he knew her sleep was only a pretense. His caresses became tickles, and they rose laughing and showered together, then toyed with each other while the jets of warm air dried their naked bodies.

She spent several minutes gathering her clothing, while he ordered breakfast. They ate together, almost in silence, and she left with a blown kiss as he turned to his desk. Within an hour his secretary reported a visitor, and Ed punched the button that opened the door. The robo-secretary went back to work while the man with the big black case bustled in.

"Morris, Mister Royse, of Flagella, Inc."

"Come in, Morris, and let's see what you've got. My masochism expert got her favorite whip chewed up in some sort of machinery yesterday." Ed buttoned the intercom, calling Julie while Morris opened his case to display his wares. Ed nodded.

"That looks like your usual good quality, Morris," he said, reaching for a cigarette.

The salesman smiled with confident acknowledgement. "All handmade, Mister Royse. That's the secret, in this age of machine made everything. We have to import them from the aborigine reserve in Central

Brazil, which means that you have to pay us well for them." He smiled. "But I think our customers agree that they're worth it."

"Julie won't allow me to deal with anyone else," Ed said, looking up as the girl came in.

She was the perfect subject for his more sadistic clientele: small, with a piquant little heart-shaped face decorated with the full mouth of a child and huge blue eyes. She wore her blonde hair nearly to her waist, and she was expert enough to get it out of the way when her contractees used their—more often her—whips on her smooth white skin. A little glandular rearranging by the doct-engineers had added considerably to what had been mere bumps of breasts, but no enhancing had been necessary to her backside. It was naturally round, a little protuberant, designed for whipping.

She entered with a bright smile, wearing a loose hyper-mini that covered her loins and rump so long as she stood stock still—which she wasn't. Morris admired her bottom as she bent over his assortment of lashes.

"Nice," she cooed, lifting out a cat of five braided tails and snapping it smartly down against her bare leg. "Uh!" Her pelvis rocked. She replaced the cat to draw out a monster whip, consisting of one braided black strand fully five feet long. She jerked her wrist this way and that, making the whip dance like a trained snake. She turned to Morris with one eyebrow up.

"A little stiff, I'm afraid. Tsk tsk!" She pursed her sensuous lips at him, then tossed him the whip.

"This type is often preferred by husbands," Morris explained, coiling the whip carefully. He looked at Ed. "I'll wait in the hall, Mister Royse, while you and this beautiful maz test the whips in private."

She flashed him a brilliant smile, nodded, and turned back to the case while he left and closed the door softly after him.

"You going to charge me for the new whip, lover?" she asked Ed, without looking at him.

"Can't," he said. "Not your fault that jackass had machinery around. Lucky for him he didn't get dragged in."

She chuckled. "Well, the machinery was part of his bag. It was an adaptation of an old reducing machine of some sort. Vibrating rollers. He strapped me to it while he whipped me." She shivered. "Good grief, that was fun! But not too darned good for my best whi ... ah. Now this is nice ... yes. Yeeees. It feels right."

"Want to try it out, Julie?"

"Oh, yes." She laid the whip on his desk and slipped a finger through the ring at the neck of her dress. She drew it all the way down to the hem, opening the invisible zipper. The little dress fell away from her breasts on both sides. She wore no brassiere; the gland engineering had left her bosom without need of support. Ed wasn't wild about those tight pointed tits; he preferred 'em big and floppy. But Julie's type of client usually preferred girlish, helpless and soft-looking victims. They'd have grooved on someone about fourteen, apparently. Julie, at twenty-six, still looked like a fourteen-year-old—overdeveloped in bosom and butt.

Bared, she leaned over the desk and grasped the sides. She was breathing heavily, nipples already thickened and lengthened in stiff invitation. "I'm ready."

Ed grinned, cupping one of the naked breasts, fingering the hard tip. "You sure are, but I am not going to carry it that far."

She laughed, a little nervously. Sex was serious

business to Julie, and whipping was sex. "Go ahead and use it!"

Ed stepped away behind her. He balanced the whip for a moment* then lifted it above the girl's back. With a swift motion, he lashed the serpent of black leather down onto the smooth white skin. She gasped and arched her body in pain, shuddering. A dark streak appeared on her nude back.

Ed ran his fingers gently over the red welt. "It doesn't break the skin. How'd it feel?"

"W-wonderfullll! Please do it again!" Her voice was small, childish, pleading. She had to be the best maz in the business.

"Let's try it another way," he suggested, running his hand over the diminutive strip of black cloth that stretched tightly across her buttocks. "Your ass is too tight in that position. Stand over against the wall." He said it sternly, knowing what she liked and needed.

Julie straightened and moved to the wall, slipping the panties—little more than a G-string—down as she moved. She stepped out of them. Naked except for blindingly blue hose and matching gold-tooled harem boots, she cupped her breasts delicately and licked her lips in anticipation as she looked at the whip.

Then she turned to face the wall, planting her feet wide apart and raising her arms high above her head. She trembled as her hardened pink nipples brushed the wall, sending electric thrills through her pointed tits.

Ed chuckled as he ran a big hand over the large round balls of her naked buttocks. "Such a nice plump tail for whipping," he said, watching her little shiver. He pinched the taut flesh gently. "Do you really want it, baby?"

"Oh, lover," she whimpered, "please don't tease me.

You know how much I love it. Yes, yes, I want it"

Stepping back, Ed swung the whip. The sound cracked through the room as the leather slapped across both jutting asscheeks and curled around her hips. She "squealed. Her belly slapped wetly against the wall and there was a sudden glisten of perspiration on her body. Panting in masochistic delight, she waited for the lash to fall again.

After a pause to build up her tension, Ed swung once more. The girl cried out and slapped herself against the wall as she felt the stinging lash. Two red welts now crossed the satiny white skin of her buttocks. She tried to clutch the wall, moaning and wagging her hips in helpless invitation for more pain.

"Whew." Ed dropped the whip onto his desk and walked over to the girl. He slid his hands up over her ribs to cup her almost hard breasts, squeezing them far less gently than he would have pressed anyone else's. He kissed the back of her neck. "That's enough, doll. I'm not immune to you, you know. It's business hours, and I'm getting a hard-on."

She dropped her arms from the wall as she swayed back against him, deliberately poking her whipped bottom against his groin. Her fingers lightly touched the hands that imprisoned her breasts while she moved her hips slowly to enjoy the feel of his hard cock against her buttocks. She leaned her head back, pressing her cheek against his.

"Oh Ed . . . I'm always whipped by strangers, and never by the man I love. Don't stop."

He grinned, squeezing her breasts with all his strength. "Julie, baby, you know that's not true. You love being whipped by anybody, and the only way you'd get enough is to be beaten unconscious. Besides, I

whipped hell out of you, only a couple of months ago." He let one hand slide down to caress the soft skin of her tiny belly while the fingers of the other hand teased one tight little nipple.

"But that was two months ago," she pouted. "I want it this month. Besides, it's my turn for you, boss-lover. Linda had you all night."

"How'd you know that so soon?"

She giggled. "I smelled her perfume when I came in." She snuggled in his arms. "Oh honey, if you aren't going to wallop me, at least give me a little sex. I had two contracts yesterday, and both of them were real, real sadists: they came while they were torturing me. I feel empty as a virgin!"

He had to laugh at that thought. Like Linda, Julie was far, far from virginity, and not likely to know anything even resembling that silly state ever again.

Sliding his hands down between her legs, he began to rub gently. She crouched a little, spreading her thighs farther apart to give his hand more room to work on her soft—and delicately hairless—pussy. (The hairlessness gave her contractees the further illusion that she was very young, helpless.)

"Ed?"

"Hm?"

"What's that you're stabbing me in the back with?" He laughed. "Ed?" "Hm?"

"Damnit, if you aren't going to whip me, at least rape me, okay?"

He laughed again. "Okay, baby girl. Let's get our business with Morris done with first, though."

She made a little squeal of pleasure and slipped from

his arms. Her tight breasts jiggled attractively as she ran over to the desk and began fingering the whips with wide-eyed fascination. She took out a nasty-looking cat-o'-nine-tails, each lash knotted at the tip.

"Ed? What if I hand you this? Will you whip me then?"

Ed sighed and walked over to open the door. The salesman sat in the waiting room, working on company reports. He looked up with a smile. "Have you made your selection?"

Ed nodded. "Sorry it took so long. Things got a little involved."

"Think nothing of it That's a common enough occurrence, and I understand perfectly." He rose and followed Ed back into the office, where Julie stood in unconcerned nudity. Morris showed only momentary reaction, then calmly scrutinized the angry marks on her white back.

"This sweet lady has a beautiful complexion for her profession," he observed. He reached out one hand to touch the welt on her back, tracing his finger along the mark. Julie paused in the act of recoiling a two-toned whip, savoring the masochistic thrill of knowing that she interested Mm only as a piece of merchandise. Remaining bent over the whip-case on Ed's desk, she shivered while Morris's fingers moved over her naked body and tested the flesh.

Morris slipped his hand around beneath her to bounce one down-aimed breast. She drew in her breath sharply as her nipple rose in uncontrollable response.

"Well-formed," the salesman commented casually, "and quite firm." He released the object of his interest and gave Ed an inquiring glance. "Does she take it on the tits?"

"Of course. Her whole body is for sale. She'd go insane if it were otherwise," Ed told him,. "She's just the sort of girl everyone in the old days thought was 'sick and had to be 'cured' for their 'own good' and no one cared if it destroyed their sex lives in the process. Now ... she's happy, and she makes her sadistic contractées happy too, I assure you of that."

"I have no doubt," Morris said, with fervor.

Ed gave him a check and sat still while Morris stowed it away, repacked and closed his case, and departed without another glance at Julie.

Locking the door, Ed turned back to the smiling Julie. He began to remove his jacket, watching her arrange her braid in a tight blonde coil atop her head to leave her body completely unprotected. Damn her masochistic little hide, I'd rather fuck her than switch her! As hei removed the last of his clothing, she ran her gaze over his powerful form with erotic longing. Her small but lusciously made body looked fragile by comparison with that muscled frame.

When he stepped toward her, she reached out a tentative hand to touch his half erected cock. "See?" she pouted, poking her lip out in the way she knew damned well was both childish and erotic. "It isn't even all the way up. The least you could do for both of us is just whip me a few ti. .. "

Before her fingers could make contact with his organ, he gave her what she wanted, but unexpectedly. His hand slapped loudly across her face. She reeled against the wall with a little shriek.

He said what he wanted to say—which was also what she wanted to hear:

"On your knees, you skinny-hipped slut, and suck it until it's big enough to tear you open, then!..."

She obeyed with a delighted look, dropping straight to the floor with utter disregard for her knees. Both hands shot out to curl about his furry scrotum, carefully, gently rolling the hard nuts within. She moved her head swiftly forward until her lips were close to the umbrellalike tip of his penis. Her long, narrow tongue slithered out to lap him, again and again. Instantly his prick responded, throbbing as it rose. Growing bolder, she locked it with increased avidity. It grew high and hard, far more than her mouth could encompass without strangling.

He reached down to grasp her tits, one in each hard hand, and pulled her up. Hanging onto each breast, he led her into the other room and dumped her onto his bed. His penis felt hard as a rock as he fell onto the bed beside her, partially on her. She flowed into his embrace. His powerful arms pulled her roughly against him, his lips mashing brutally against hers. Sighing in contentment, she opened her mouth wide. She took his tongue with little whimpers of desire, thrilling to its exploration of her mouth, imitating his penis as it whipped in and out.

He rolled her over onto her back and she gasped at the feel of his muscular weight on top of her. Spreading willing thighs, she rubbed her body against his, writhing, "Oh, darling, dearest dearest darling ... jam it in! Make it hurt me!"

She forced her hand between their bodies to grasp the throbbing rod in her fingers, then guided the thrusting flesh to the lips of her vulva. He tried; he jerked his hips savagely, crushing her, making her cry out in pain as the big tool rammed halfway into her vagina. Another powerful thrust and it had driven full length into her, bringing her close to the point of fainting. Delighting in

pain, she exercised and used medicinal preparations constantly to tighten her grasping little cunt.

Then their naked bodies were sucking wetly as the mighty piston began driving in and out of her. He wallowed his body on hers, seeking to crush her tight breasts down into her chest, to abrade her nakedly shorn loins with the wiry hair of his groin.

The fire in her belly was building quickly as the girl wrapped her arms and legs around her sweating man and eagerly matched her thrusting hips to the powerful strokes that were jarring her to the brink of rapture. Suddenly, exquisite ecstasy exploded within her as she began the ascending curve of a magnificent orgasm. He drove hard, grinding himself onto her, jamming himself into her hot sheath.

Powerful streams of hot liquid slammed into her as his big prick jerked savagely within her welcoming body.

When they had ceased climaxing, Ed let his full weight rest on her, moving his still-thick penis steadily in and out of her flooded cunt, prolonging her erotic experience. She tightened her legs and arms around his flanks, her soft lips nuzzling him tenderly as she murmured words of endearment.

Gradually, she succumbed to the pleasant fatigue of sexual fulfilment, and her hold on Ed weakened. She protested weakly when he withdrew from her belly. Warm liquid trickled from her vagina and streamed pleasantly down over her crotch to puddle beneath her buttocks.

Ed lifted himself from the girl and stood up beside the bed.

"When do you work, sweetheart?" She spoke softly, sleepily. "Crazy contract tonight Male and female team . . . Martian accent Eight

o'clock. Nothing all day." She yawned, burrowing into his pillow.

Chuckling, he lifted the girl while he threw back the covers. Then he stretched her back on the sheet and drew the covers up over her shoulders. She snuggled into the pillow, smiling, closing her eyes. He bent to kiss her passion-warmed lips.

"Okay, Julie baby, sleep it off."

Entering the bathroom, he turned on the shower and stepped under the cleansing spray for a quick genital bath. He smiled. "Poor Julie! All she wants from life is a good beating and a good fuck . . . about every hour on the hour!" He shook his head.

To a good whore, the client's pleasure came first, and often the girl was left frustrated. They were psychologically conditioned to enjoy everything done to them, in their particular specialty. In Julie's case, enough could never be done. Some of the sadistic clients must have been getting their kicks just from teasing her, making her kneel and grovel and plead. He certainly hoped her contract tonight was a good whipper who took pleasure in his work—two of them? In their work, then.

He placed Julie's clothes on a chair beside the bed, then left, heading across town to a Procurer's Guild meeting.

And he returned to horror.