Chapter 18

Of course, I couldn't protect everybody. We had our fair share of sadists among our clientele: and the whipping-rooms had been set up for their use: so. if they were prepared to pay the fee. there was little I could do to stop them. -It wasn't my place to do so, anyway. in fact, the reverse: for as I've told you, our fee was high. and The Organization never objected to taking in $1000 in good folding money!

So the whipping-rooms were in fairly regular use. perhaps 6 times a month by the customers; and then there'd be the odd punishment-session, when some girl had stepped out of line. On average, each of the girls could reckon on 3 or 4 visits a year to Algolagnia Alley. though of course it didn't work out to any regular pattern. A couple of our girls actually liked being whipped: and there were a couple more who could take it easily. (like Candy, who married the steel millionaire): naturally I tried to arrange it so that they were used rather than the kids who hated it, and couldn't stand the pain. for of course it tended to break their spirit, which spoilt them for their work.

I have some photos here which might amuse you, Max. After we lost Candy, Don Marco made it a rule that whipping-sessions should be photographed, to give The Organization some sort of hold over the man: and this was doubly valuable, because of course it was only the very rich who could afford the cost anyway. so our photos represented 'useful contacts'. (as Don Marco used to put it). with some very influential men.

Here's a picture of one of Boston's really brilliant young lawyers getting to work on our Dolores. I thing it's fairly evident that she was a very good-looking number: and Sam and his boys had laid her out most tastefully, don't you agree?. Lying on her back on that narrow bench with her hands held down on either side by the wristcuffs set on the central pillar, and the broad leather strap cinched tight across her stomach, she certainly made a most attractive picture: and her big firm breasts were nicely vulnerable. (Mr. Lawyer was a 'tit-man', so this was an important point). Then they had raised her legs at right angles to her body, opened them wide, and pinioned her feet in anklets set at either end of the spreader-bar suspended from the ceiling. It re-ally was a most rewarding position from Mr. L's point of view, Max! The whole of her body was so beautifully available . breasts, buttocks, thighs back and front and insides too), arsehole, cunt, clitoris. all there, right under his hand. If he straddled this end of the bench, he could fuck her or bugger her with equal ease: if he straddled the other end, his prick was right above her mouth, ready to be sucked off.

Mr. L. was by no means one of our fiercer sadists. he used to get his kicks without making the girl bleed: and he wasn't particularly 'complicated'. didn't go in for odd instruments, and torture, and so on. He just liked whipping the soft flesh of a naked girl. He'd had Dolores before, and she knew pretty well what the form was. He'd take her three times. once in each body-hole, and once in the mouth: and he'd use a variety of weapons on her. the cane, the scourge of knotted cords, nettle-birches, a thin leather thong, perhaps. and almost certainly he'd give her a prolonged, exhausting, private orgasm with a double dildo reaming in and out of her defenseless cunt and arsehole.

There was one little trick of his that had caused her trouble when he had had his previous session: and the same thing happened again this time. He caned her buttocks till they were a fiery sea of pain; and then he fucked her: and next he birched her thighs and belly, first with nettles, then with a little switch of hazel twigs; and after that he buggered her. So far, Dolores could withstand it, though she was becoming exhausted from the pain, and from the searing orgasms that he had induced when he came in her helpless body. Then he spent a long time on her breasts, turning them an angry red with a thorough nettle-birching, before setting them dancing in agony under the wicked stinging blows of the scourge of thin knotted cords: and though she was screaming full-throated at the martyrdom of her poor globes, the situation was still more or less under control, if you know what I mean.

. until Mr. L. Straddled her face, and presented his semi-stiff prick at her open, shouting mouth: and she took it in. to taste the bitter-sweet traces of its last lodging-place, her own soft velvet rectum. I was never able to understand why Dolores made such a fuss over sucking Mr. L's slightly-soiled cock: she had no objections to him as a person. he was always clean and well-groomed, and his prick had been nowhere but in her own body: and she would think nothing of reaming a customer's arsehole with her tongue, which one would have thought a far more displeasing task. But there it was. the silly girl spat his cock out in disgust, and turned her head away with a defiant cry of "No!."

Mr. L. was quite good-tempered about it. He was astride the bench, sitting on her sore, swollen breasts so that a slight forward bend of his body would send his prick into Dolores' mouth. He presented himself again; and again she rejected him. Then he dismounted, to tweak her viciously on the nipples before saying ominously. "Last chance, Dolores!". a threat which brought a further stubborn "No!" from the captive beauty.

Mr. L. shrugged his shoulders, picked up the scourge of knotted cords, and positioned himself by Dolores' waist, facing the open V of her long slim legs held immobile by the aerial spreader-bar. His arm came up. to send the biting little cords hissing down three times into the crimson gash of her un-protected cunt. Dolores' three desperate shrieks of agony signaled the end of her pointless revolt: and within the minute the sobbing girl was sucking frantically at the lawyer's rigid prick. taste or no taste.

Now you will note that the fact that she finished up with a red, swollen, painful cunt that looked like a slab of raw meat was her fault, not his. As I said at the start, Mr. L. was actually fairly moderate in his sadism; but after all, you don't expect to pay $1000 and be argued with!

I don't think any girl ever tried arguing with The Big! He's the man in the next two photos here. and a real mean bastard he was! He was a multi-millionaire contractor, and spending $7000 or $8000 a year on flagellation meant nothing to him. He even had his own equipment, which he'd had made outside and brought in by arrangement with Don Marco. The girls all hated him. he was a pig in looks (hence his nickname), and a pig by nature: and one of the things they disliked most was the completely impersonal way he treated them in the whipping-room. With Mr. L., for example, there was always the feeling of a 'shared experience'. even though it might be very painful experience: but when he fucked you, he made sure that you came too: and he made you feel that he knew you were in the room with him. But with The Pig. no! As Caroline said. (that's Caroline in these two pictures, front and back). "It's as though there were a screen between him and the rest of humanity. I'd hate to be as lonely as he is. ". which was actually quite a generous thought from a girl who'd just been whipped brutally till she bled.

As you can see, it was quite brutal, too! The Negroes had pegged her out for him on one of his clever inventions: you can see how she has to kneel very widespread, because the base of the machine is so wide: then she's been pulled back along this quarter-circle, so that the front of her naked body arches like a bow: see how those tendons in her groin are standing out. and doesn't it look exactly as if she was pushing her cunt out at you, deliberately? And you can just see her hand down the side here, with the wrist-cuff clipped onto the anklet, and then both of them to this ring in the side of the base here, so that she can't shift herself off the quarter-circle along the rim of which her arched back is resting. And finally they wound that big dildo up into her cunt, and left her waiting for The Pig.

Well, you can see the form from the photo, Max! That three-thonged lash is doing her no good at all. every stroke leaves three long red angry weals. breasts, belly, thighs. The Pig covers them all impartially: and when she twitches and jerks in agony, she murders herself on that huge dildo. Caroline told me she tried deliberately to give herself as many orgasms as possible, to make herself faint sooner, and so escape the pain. But The Pig was skilful: and his strokes were never hard enough to grant her the release of unconsciousness. not yet, at any rate: and when the front of her body was one shrieking wilderness of pain, with blood oozing from her stripes in half a dozen places, he clambered up the steps behind and thrust his prick at her back-flung face, and made her suck him off.

Then he had the Negroes in, and they took her off the quarter-circle: but it wasn't the end of her ordeal by any means. she still had the second act to come. Now they tied her out on The Pig's cunning 'kneeling-block'. see how she's pinioned at ankles, knees, elbows, and wrists: and then that big strap round her waist, pulling her right down hollow-backed, so that her arse sticks out in rounded prominence. When The Pig got to work with that spiked hairbrush affair on her bare buttocks, it was absolute murder. as you can easily see from the photo. Actually, there isn't much to tell you, Max. you can see that the spikes aren't long enough to cause permanent wounding: but nevertheless Caroline was soon in absolute agony as the whole surface of her soft, pretty globes was progressively covered with little punctures. It wasn't long before her arse was reduced to a shiny mask of red. which was just what The Pig was waiting for. He laid his brush aside, knelt down behind poor Caroline. and licked her buttocks clean, grunting with pleasure at the salty taste of the blood! He really was a pig, Max!

Then he buggered her: and mercifully, at the intrusion of his huge impatient prick, she fainted. I say 'mercifully', for The Pig treated a tight sensitive arsehole just as though it was a well-used, elastic cunt. he fucked it, hard and fast, so that the sphincter muscle was bruised for days. causing poor Caroline much pain and embarrassment when she went to take a crap! (But I will admit, Max, that a well-shot close-up sequence, in colour film, of an arsehole snapping in and out as a man's prick buggers it, never fails to arouse the spectators! So, even though The Pig was a pig, the fact that he liked turning Caroline's arsehole inside out shouldn't be held against him. it's a thing all men enjoy!)

Well, that's enough about The Pig. Luckily, he didn't have much stamina, and his two orgasms in Caroline's mouth and arse were enough for him. until next time, when I'd have to give the word to Sam, much against my will, and see one of my girls dragged screaming down to the whipping-rooms, to be tied up ready for The Pig to torture.