Chapter 9
Returning to her office, Carol walked over to Mike Leechmann and said, "I followed your senior field adjuster, all right. But she didn't do the adjusting. Randall Forrest did all the adjusting, and on various parts of her body. She'll give him what he's looking for."
"Well then, looks you might be in trouble with the company," Leechmann insisted.
"I'll fight it all the way," Carol snapped. "Mine was a perfectly good decision. I won't let that miserable redheaded bitch ...."
"Whoa!" Mike laughed. "Take it easy! You're making this a personal contest, as if you should have been the one worked over by this guy."
"Don't be disgusting," Carol snapped, but even as she spoke, she felt her vagina beginning to ooze oils.
"I think," Mike told her, "you'd better take the rest of the day off and relax. Tomorrow you can come in and put together your arguments for not paying the Forrest claim. You know, if you can get Micky to admit in public that she screwed for the man, the board'll decide in your favor."
"Well then, that's what I'll have to do," Carol nodded.
"Now go home," Mike Leechmann insisted, "unless, maybe, you'd like to come to my home."
"Don't say things like that," she insisted.
"Hey, you might need a lot of friends on your side," he told her. "I can be a good friend... provided you prove you can be a good friend, as well. I can quash anything the company'll bring against you, Carol."
"I've kept this job on my own, so far," Carol told him. "I'll take my chances."
"Lotsa luck, honey," he shrugged as she walked away.
Taking his advice in one respect, she did go home. But the moment she entered the apartment and saw Ann there, she had the feeling she was in for trouble. It had been some time since Ann had beaten her, and it was obvious the sadistic bull-dyke was in one of those moods.
Fortunately, Ann's son, Albert, was in school. At least he wouldn't be witnessing whatever humiliation Ann had planned.
After hanging her coat up, Carol walked over to where Ann was sitting on the sofa and gave her a lover's kiss on the lips. The bloated older lady, her froggy face grimacing on top of her huge, brown tentlike dress, sniffed, stared at Carol, and said, "You've been sexually involved with someone, Carol."
"No!" the younger woman gasped.
"Don't hand me that crap! I can smell the sex all over you," Ann said, standing up. "Was it another woman, or have you decided to try a man this time?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Ann," the shuddering woman replied.
Ann had quick hands. She slammed Carol across the face twice with her open palms-first the left hand, then the right. It made Carol stumble, and then she fell on her knees in front of the older woman, who rose to her feet. Carol began crying tearfully as Ann reached down, got a firm grip on her ponytail, and tugged her head back. She stared into Carol's face, then sneeringly said, "I can tell you've been fucking around with someone, Carol. You smell of cunt! My God! I'll bet you must have come at least a dozen times."
"No, no, it's not true, I didn't come at all," Carol gasped, and then fell almost flat as Ann gripped her by her hair and began to literally drag her toward the doorway where Albert's chinning bar had been installed.
Ann forced Carol to her feet, then pulled a small footstool from a nearby chair over with her foot and forced Carol to stand on it. She stood on it as well, as she quickly tied Carol's ponytail to the chinning bar. Then she kicked the stool out from under Carol's feet so that the brown-haired girl simply dangled there, the pain in the roots of her hair excruciating. She knew her hair wouldn't be pulled out. She had a very good scalp, and her hairdresser had told her more than once that hers was the kind of hair that was able to be brushed again and again, vigorously, and not one strand would come out. She had seen TV programs where female acrobats had been suspended by their hair, spinning around, and their hair had not come out of their heads, so Carol knew her hair would not come out. Not that it was any consolation to her at this point because the pain of having her weight pulling against her hair roots was indescribable, making her scrunch up her face.
Carol was unable to believe this cruelty. Usually Ann did something merely humiliating to her, which would allow her to come, but this time it was painful, as well. Now, with her hair knotted around the chinning bar, even with her hands free, because she had no support for her feet, the woman was unable to move too much. Ann began stripping Carol, and the latter knew that if she tried fighting and struggling, Ann might very well tie her hands then leave her hanging there until Albert came home, at which time she would let her son push his piddling pidookie into Carol's cunt and shoot a load into her that might impregnate her.
She was totally naked now as she hung with her stretched toes not quite able to touch the floor while Ann walked around her, leaning close to her, sniffing now and again. The frog-faced woman also touched her between her thighs, feeling the oil smears.
"Look at your cunt!" Ann was screamingly squealing. "Just look at how wet that gash of yours is, you rotten little liar. You came, all right, but I don't smell any sperm. You must have had contact with another woman, even if I can't smell her musk on you. I'll make you tell me everything before I'm through with you."
Ann walked into the bedroom, then came out a moment later, holding the riding crop she had used on Carol the last time. She smiled an evil smile, and Carol, whose body had just totally recovered from past beatings, knew she was about to gain a whole new series of welts. She opened her mouth to protest, but before she was able to say anything, Ann lashed her right across the belly with the crop.
As Carol felt the stinging she became aware of yet another humiliation. It was as if Ann had planned this with the man who lived across the courtyard from them in the same building. Ann tugged the shade up, then turned the living room lamp on, tilting the shade so that Carol's body was bathed in light. Carol saw a man standing in the window across the courtyard, watching the entire scene, saying nothing. He was fully dressed, but the moment he saw Carol's naked body, he undid his pants and dropped them, exposing his erection, which looked to be slightly shorter than that of her stepfather, may he never rest in peace. Like Albert, the man began jerking on his organ, and the more Carol thought about it, the more she was certain Ann had planned this so the man would be able to watch. Not that Ann intended giving the man any cunt, either her own or Carol's, but she knew Carol felt that much more despised and humiliated when someone was watching her.
Ann returned to Carol, and then began going to work methodically with the riding crop. She beat Carol's buttocks, one at a time, then her lower thighs, front and rear. Turning to look out the window and making certain the neighbor was still watching, Ann laughed, saying, "You seem to attract an audience, dear lover. Look how anxious that man is. How would you like me to let him in so he can fuck you?"
"No!" Carol gasped, the truth being she wanted nothing to do with any man other than Randall Forrest, for having seen his cock, no thinner or shorter organ would suffice.
Then Ann proceeded to whip Carol's belly again, and when Carol lifted her hands to protect herself, Ann warned her to put the hands down or she would whip Carol's face, as well. Carol had no choice, but to hang there by her hair, turning a little to the left, a little to the right, and shuddering as Ann continued beating her.
Then the riding crop hit her breasts. Ann seemed to take special care in making certain she hit Carol's brown nipples, making them swell with pain. There might have been a time when Carol would have responded sexually to such humiliation, even if the pain was too much for her. But right now, her mind still had a picture of the way Randall Forrest had fucked Micky, the field adjuster, and that cock was the only thing Carol really wanted.
"Ghhhuuuggghhh!" Carol gasped, as Ann reversed the riding crop and began ramming the handle between Carol's cuntlips. She pushed the plastic handle as far into Carol's cunt as possible, and Carol gasped and screamed, aware the handle was considerably thinner than Randall Forrest's cock. She was glad at this point that her cunt was so sodden, otherwise the whip handle would not have fitted inside so nicely. Then it would have really hurt her. As it was, Ann was trying to hurt her by driving the handle in and out, in and out, but all it did was make Carol think of Randall's cock moving in Micky's cunt.
There was no pleasure in this particular degradation, though she was definitely feeling arousal as her mind continued to think of the crop handle as being a cock. For the first time in a long time Carol didn't seem to give a damn about what was happening to her, and as a result no longer felt humiliated. Though what Ann was doing to her was not designed to feel good, it did feel good. She was on the verge of orgasm, if only she would be able to make Ann keep that up a little longer.
"Come on," the older, frog-faced woman snorted, certain she was causing Carol all kinds of agony as she turned and twisted the riding crop while driving it in and out of the poor girl's tight cunt. "I want you to tell me why you're home from work so early. I also want you to tell me what you did today, and with whom. I want to know every last little bit of it, and if you lie, I'll whip you until you bleed all over, and let a crust of scabs form all over your body. Then I'll let Albert fuck into all three of your holes."
Carol hated it when Ann brought up the subject of her son. It was as if the older woman was looking for an excuse to get her son laid, one day. She seemed to be grooming Carol for the job since it was obvious no sane girl would willingly have anything to do with Albert. There was a broad smile on Ann's face as if daring Carol to defy her.
"All right, all right," Carol began moaning, and Ann stopped ramming the whip-handle in and out for a moment, then continued, but more slowly. "I'll tell you what happened this afternoon. You'll think I'm lying, but I'll tell you anyway. I just hope to God you'll believe me."
"Cut the damn waltzing around and give me the story straight," Ann insisted.
"One of the claims I denied was being double-checked by a field representative," Carol gasped. "I was asked to go along and make sure the claimant didn't try handing the field rep a line. The field rep was a woman, famous for her sexual escapades."
"Oh? So you decided to take matters into your own hands, or perhaps your own mouth and eat this cunt ahead of time to keep her from getting all hopped up by this guy, huh."
"No, no, wait, let me finish," Carol gasped as Ann speeded up the thrusts of the whip handle into her cunt. She was getting there. A little more, and she would come.
"Nothing happened," Carol lied. "I didn't do anything, and neither did the girl. We spoke to the claimant, who's still a deadbeat, and I know he propositioned Micky, that's the girl, but in front of me she didn't dare agree. But she kept telling me, all the way back, in the car, how hot she felt for this guy, and her talk of arousal sort of got my own juices going. Hell! I wouldn't cheat on you, Ann. Besides, this other woman wasn't an AC-DC. She only goes for guys, so it would've been impossible for me to get it on with her.
Ann looked at her in a funny way, as if not knowing whether to believe her, but she kept the crop handle moving in Carol's cunt, and as a result, hot juices came splashing down all over the crop as Carol finally came.
Ann smiled, nodding, saying, "You wouldn't have come so easily if you'd had anything to do with anyone else. All right, Carol, I believe you."
She pushed the stool under Carol's feet and then untied her hair from around the chinning bar.
"Just remember," Ann warned, "if I catch you lying, you'll pay."
Next time, it'll be your turn to pay, Carol thought.
The analyst was right. Carol was not a homosexual. These last few years, Carol had been living a lie, believing she was queer. What her stepfather had done was push her down the wrong road because of his roughness. But Carol realized the truth was quite simple that she needed to be mastered without being made love to by a woman. She needed domination without dominance. She needed a man to tell her what to do but it had to be a man she was capable of respecting. She wanted to be humbled, but not humiliated.
To find a man who would do all these things was obviously impossible. Carol knew better than to hope. After all, in order to find such a man, she would have to explore relationships with countless men. There would be the momma's boys, the weaklings, the ones, who, themselves wanted to be dominated by a woman. Then there would be the bullies. They would deal out pain with no thought of pleasure for anyone but themselves. The so-called ordinary, everyday man never really existed. Even if he did, he would be a hard worker who would have little, if any, time for Carol. She needed a man who washable to give her a lot of his time. Carol accepted the fact that she was not the everyday American woman. She needed more attention than such a woman. She needed attention in two respects; first in that she wanted a man to let her know how much he loved her almost all the time, and second, in being able to fawn on such a man and give him the kind of loving and care he deserved without his becoming disgusted with such attention.
However, to find such a man while living with Ann was out of the question. After she finished with this Randall Forrest nonsense, she would put in for her vacation, a full month, then move out to Ann and find private living quarters where she might set her life in order.