Chapter 2
It was almost noon when Harry Blackstone finished nursing and mending the wounds of his first subject. He had been up all night, talking to Jan and then planning her punishment and putting her through it. But he was not tired. He was too overjoyed to be sleepy. He ran into his wife's study and shouted with pleasure.
"It works! It works, Eva! She came for the first time in her life!"
Eva Blackstone took off her glasses and smiled with her husband. She had been reading some of the new psychological reports in her study while her husband worked on his first human experiment, but she had found it difficult to concentrate on the studies because she had been anxious to find out just how the experiment was working.
Now she stood up and moved from behind her desk. She hugged her husband and kissed him with congratulations. She held Harry and beamed at him.
"We will show them," she said happily. "We will show them all."
Eva Blackstone was also a psychologist. Both she and Harry had once worked at the world-famous Bay River Institute for Psychological Studies in Texas. But they had left the institute under a cloud when Harry's first article about the use of cruelty in treating repeat offenders was published.
Dr. C. J. "Buddy" Monroe, the head of the Bay River Institute, had announced that he thought that Blackstone's ideas were perverse and he had asked both Harry and Eva to leave his organization. That was another reason why Eva had had trouble concentrating on the articles that she had been reading all morning, while her husband worked with Jan. One of those articles had been written by Buddy Monroe It had been his report about his work with juvenile offenders. He had used bribery to help them turn into better human beings, telling them that he would give them candy and soda pop if they would be good. Of course, the experiments had failed. The kids had not been rehabilitated, but Buddy Monroe had published the findings to show other doctors that bribery would not work.
Buddy Monroe, Eva Blackstone thought, was a silly old shit from Texas who had absolutely no vision.
Harry Blackstone had come up with the pain theory of rehabilitation and had published his theory two years before. But Eva had helped him to work out some of. the details and now his wife was prepared to help him with his experiments. Eva was a specialist who worked mostly with paranoid individuals, but she thought that her husband's ideas, her husband's career, was more important than hers because she felt that Harry had a chance to really change the world of psychology for the better.
As they held each other and beamed at each other with pride, Eva looked down on Harry. She was taller than he was. She was, in fact, taller than most of the men that she had met. She was six feet five inches tall in her bare feet, and she had a big-titted, lusty body. But it did not matter to her that Harry was shorter and smaller than she was. He was a muscular fellow himself and she thought that he was very intelligent and very sexy.
She especially found that patch over his eye sexy. It made him look as if he had been wounded in some great battle of honor, she thought, although she knew that he had lost his eye when he was sixteen years old. He had lost his eye in a motorcycle accident near his family home in San Diego, California.
But Eva liked to fantasize that Harry was a noble German count who had dueled for honor and had lost his eye in that duel, though he had won the battle in the final seconds. Eva was from Germany, and she liked to think that her husband would have made her family proud. She was from the German aristocracy, the class of people who had become wealthy after the war when they helped to rebuild the country. She still spoke with a German accent though she had been in the United States for nearly a decade. Harry thought that that accent went well with her big, sexy, German body. He liked to think of his wife as a Wagnerian angel, the kind of woman that any man would be proud to call his own.
And it especially made Harry Blackstone proud that his wife was willing to help him in any way that she could with his experiments.
They had talked about the role that she would play in his experiments with some of the female prisoners, the criminals who would be sent to the house over the next few weeks. She had agreed to do what she could to help them and help Harry to prove his theories to be correct.
She would help him that night, in fact. And, after Harry Blackstone had calmed down from his first success, he sat down with Eva on the sofa in her study and went over the details of that upcoming experiment with her.
She nodded her head as he outlined the psychological study that had been done on the woman who would visit them tonight.
She agreed to everything that her husband suggested.
That is why Harry loved his wife so much. That is why he was happy that he had married this good, intelligent, sensitive, German woman.
She knew just what he required of her-as a wife and as a psychological assistant.
He told her again about the girl that they would work with that night:
"Her name is Nancy," he said. "She is twenty-seven years old and her profile is much like the others. She is a hooker and a thief. She worked with an all-girl band of bank robbers a couple of years ago. She and two other females held up four banks in Oklahoma before they were stopped by the law. The other two were killed, gunned down, but she surrendered. Since that time, she has been in prison and the people there tell me that she had not said one single word.
She is a redhead, very attractive, and the authorities at the prison suspect that she is a lesbian, that the two women who were killed by the police were her lovers. Or, perhaps, only one of them was. She seems to be suffering from great grief now, grief that has lasted for a couple of years, grief that has kept her silent for all of this time.
We need to work on her lesbianism. After all, Eva, to be a lesbian is not a criminal act. There are many productive dykes in America today. But we need to help her out of her grief and we need to make her feel something again. The pain and the lust that you will be able to give her may cure her. If things work as well with Nancy as they worked with Jan this morning, then we will be able to see some results very quickly."
But Eva cautioned her husband against too much excitement.
"Don't expect all of the subjects to react as quickly to the treatment as the girl this morning did, Harry," she said with a pat on his knee. "She is obviously very intelligent and very near normal anyway. This woman sounds like she would be a more difficult case."
"I know," Harry said. "I know that she will probably take more time and more punishment, but I still believe that we can help her if we work together."
"We will work together," Eva said softly in her German accented voice as she smiled at her husband.
"You are wonderful Eva," the man said, kissing his wife's cheek.
"Now, you need to get some sleep so that you will be fresh for tonight's experiment," the wife said.
And she stood up and kissed her husband pushed him out of her study as if he were a little boy who did not want to go to bed.
Then she sat down at her desk again and picked up the journal that had the article by Buddy Monroe in it. She laughed out loud and threw the journal in her wastepaper basket.
Her husband was a greater man than Buddy Monroe could ever be, she thought.
Then Eva went back to her own work.
She was preparing an article of her own, a review of some of the latest books on paranoia. But she found it difficult to work that afternoon. Her mind kept wandering as she tried to concentrate on her writing. She kept thinking of the silent redhead who would visit their house that night. She wondered if she would be able to help that redhead. She wondered what it would be like to suffer so much grief that you would not speak for two years, would not utter one sound for all that time. If Harry died, she thought, she would be grief-stricken, but she would be able to speak. She would be able to put her grief into words. Eva knew that that was part of the cure for grief. A person should cry and speak of the things that they had lost. Such emotional upheavals helped to cure the feelings of listless loss' that grief brought. But silence? That was no way to handle grief at all.
Eva tried to take a nap late that afternoon so that she would be ready for the silent redhead, but she could not sleep either. She was too excited by the prospect of what was going to happen that night.
Shortly after midnight, the guards from the prison brought the redhead to the house. Eva looked out the window and saw the young woman get out of the car. She was a beautiful, freckled, big-titted woman but she moved like a zombie. The guards had to lead her into the house and into Harry's office. There the man talked to her, tried to get her to speak to him, and finally gave up. He shoved the paper at her, the paper that she had to sign saying that she agreed to this kind of treatment. She signed it immediately, but she did not seem to know what she was signing. She did not seem to care.
Eva watched all of this from behind a curtain in Harry's office. She had wanted to see this Nancy, this girl who was silent and sad, but Harry did not want Nancy to see Eva until the punishment actually started. When the redhead was taken from the office by Harry and the prison guards, the German psychologist stepped from behind the curtain. She was almost crying herself, for the sight of that silent woman had been almost too much to bear, almost too sad even for a professional such as Eva.
The German woman sniffed back her tears and rushed to her room, where she would prepare for her part in Nancy's ordeal. She had to change into special garments that her husband had ordered for her.
And then she would go into her husband's strange laboratory and help him to give this young woman pain and, they hoped, peace too.
When she was dressed in the way that her husband wanted her, Eva walked slowly, a little nervously, down to the laboratory at the end of a long hall.
She stood outside the door to the laboratory and studied herself in the mirror that hung on the hallway wall. She was in leather, black leather. The leather wrapped around her skull and fit tightly over her blonde hair. Some of that hair was pulled out a hole in the back of the leather headgear and hung like a pony-tail from the back of Eva's head.
The leather covered her long arms and her hands and stretched down over her body. It was a one-piece suit that was tight, very tight, and it made Eva feel strangely sexy at this moment. She had tried the leather on before, when Harry had first gotten the outfit. Then it had only felt tight and a little hot, but now, knowing that she was going into that laboratory to work with that sexy, silent redhead, the German woman felt sexy, so sexy that she thought she would burst. The leather had three large holes cut in the front of it. One was for her face. Another hole bared the lower part of her stomach. But her favoite hole was the one that her big tits jutted out of. As she stood there outside the laboratory, she ran her leathered hand over those tits and felt the softness of her own touch. That made her feel even more excited, even sexier.
And then Eva discovered that she was not nervous any longer. She was excited and she wanted to get into that laboratory so that this action could be started, so that she could begin to held the redhead in her sexy, curing way.
She opened the door and marched into the room.
The room was white, clean and white, just as a laboratory should be. But it did not have the test tubes and beakers and white rats that most laboratories had. It was filled with instruments of torture, contraptions that Harry Blackstone had selected in the best shops of New York City and other, more exotic devices that he had designed and built himself. It was the psychological laboratory of the future, Eva thought as she looked over the material. It was the dawn of a new age in mental health.
Then her German eyes fell on the redhead who stood in the middle of the room.
Nancy was naked and her hands were tied on a beam that ran high over her head. She was on her tip-toes and the muscles in her body were tensed with the pain that she was experiencing, that dull kind of pain that came when a person was left in an uncomfortable position for a long time.
But the young woman did not seem to feel the pain at all. At least, her eyes did not show the pain. Eva studied those eyes. They were green and shining but they stared straight ahead as if the girl were sitting in a theater, watching a play that bored her.
But Nancy was looking at Eva. The German woman wondered if the redhead really saw her, if her dead brain actually registered the fact that there was a giant woman in leather coming toward the young woman who hung from the beam. She could not tell. Nancy's eyes told her nothing.
A trained psychologist, Eva knew that the eyes revealed all, that a doctor could learn a lot by looking at a patient's eyes. Working with paranoids, Eva saw that their eyes often gave away their mental condition, even when the patients were too frightened to admit their inner feelings to a doctor. A paranoid person's eyes darted about and never concentrated or even focused' on any one object. They looked like balls that were falling in pinball machines, being batted about by objects that kept them moving, kept them ringing the brain with fear as the paranoid score totaled up. They always wanted to see everything, to make sure that no one or nothing could sneak up on them and get them, capture them, kill them.
But Eva had never seen eyes like Nancy had. They were dead eyes. The young woman did not even blink for minutes at a time. Her body was tensed and slightly contorted in pain but her eyes, her expression showed nothing. And her mouth did not open. She did not make one sound.
Eva walked up to the girl and stared into those eyes. Her body was close to Nancy's. Her big tits were touching the "redhead's flesh. But still Nancy did not seem to notice her. She seemed to look at Eva and see nothing, nothing at all.
Eva turned her head slightly and glanced at Harry, her husband, the man whose theories they were trying to prove. The man with the patch nodded his head, giving his wife the signal. She should start with the act, with the things and the words that she and Harry had planned out days ago as they looked over the girl's psychological file.
Then the German woman again looked deep into Nancy's eyes, those dead eyes that seemed to haunt everything that they looked at but did not really see.
"You are a lesbian, Nancy," the woman said, speaking in her German accent. "You are a lesbian and a criminal. You fell in love with other women,- other lesbians, other criminals, and then you watched them die as the bullets whizzed past you. But you did not die. You were not even hurt. And, after your lovers died, bleeding on the ground in Oklahoma, you gave up because you did not want to bleed. You did not want the bullets to hurt and kill you as they had killed your lovers. What were their names, Nancy? Who were those women who died? Who were your lovers?"
The young redhead did not answer. She just looked ahead of her, looked right through the
German woman who stood there in the leather outfit.
Eva slapped Nancy hard across the face.
She yelled at the redhead.
"Who were they, bitch? Who were the ones that you left behind you, dead on the Oklahoma ground?"
The young woman's head moved to the side when she was slapped but then shot back and the dead, green eyes stared straight ahead again.
After slapping the girl, Eva felt her hand tingle in the leather. She hated those green eyes suddenly. She did not want them looking at her like that.
"Doris?" she asked in a snarl, mentioning the name of one of the women who been killed in Oklahoma, who had robbed banks with Nancy.
The girl said nothing. She did not even seem to hear the name of her dead friend.
"Jenny?" Eva asked.
Still, nothing from Nancy.
Eva slapped the redhead again, once, twice, three times, slapping her face from one side and then the other, using both of her leathered hands. But still the girl did not seem to notice anything.
"Bitch!" Eva cried. "Speak .of your friends, of your lesbian lovers! Speak of those women who were killed by the cops! Speak of the women that you forsook!"
But the redhead spoke of nothing.
Eva's hands were tingling from the slapping that she had given the redhead, and something else was tingling too. Her cunt was erupting with juices inside that leather outfit. Eva took a few deep breaths and tried to calm herself, tried to get he mind off her own pussy. But she had trouble doing that. The leather seemed so hot and so tight. She wanted to take that leather off and smash her naked body against the redhead's body. Maybe that would make Nancy talk, she thought. Maybe she needed some feminine body moving against her own to remind her of what she had had at one time when she robbed banks in Oklahoma.
But she could not give the redhead sex and lust and love. She knew that. She knew that her husband had figured out that this redhead needed violence, needed pain, needed to get that grief out of her by feeling physical pain.
Eva and Harry had already worked out what they would do with this young woman, what Eva would do next. The German woman took a deep breath and closed her eyes and went to work on Nancy. She prepared herself for the pain that she would give the sexy, silent woman.
The big German woman put her arms around the redhead's freckled body and lifted Nancy, lifted her into the air. Again, Nancy made no sound, did not even seem to notice that her feet were off the floor, that she was being held by a strong, big, sexy woman in leather.
Eva lifted Nancy until the redhead's tit was next to her face, until the nipple touched Eva's sexy, dry mouth. Then the psychologist looked at her husband, seeking guidance, seeking the direction and self-confidence that only Harry could give her. Harry nodded his head again.
The German woman felt her cunt quiver as she moved that nipple to her mouth and sucked that pinkness into her. She sucked on the nipple until it grew hard and elongated in her lips. Then Eva took her mouth off the nipple and looked at it for a second. She knew what she had to do. She understand the pain that she would have to give this silent woman.
And she found that, now, she wanted to give that woman pain. She wanted to make that silent redhead cry out in agony. She wanted to hear some sound come from that woman's lips.
The nipple was hard, bumpy, long, and a bit of the pink flesh was sticking out.
Eva moved her mouth close to that nipple and, holding the redhead up in her arms, feeling Nancy's freckled flesh against her leather, she bit that nipple with her even, white, German teeth.
She bit it hard and brutally, but the redhead did not make a sound. Eva could feel the woman's body tense a little with the first pain, but then it relaxed again and, as Eva bit down on the nipple more ferociously, the redhead did not even seem to know that it was happening. Her body was as limp as a rag.
Eva felt the salty taste roll into her mouth and knew that the woman's nipple was bleeding. The taste of blood repulsed her. She took her mouth off the nipple and dropped Nancy and let her hang there. Eva looked at the eyes and found that they were still dead, still staring straight ahead, as if nothing had happened to shake the sexy redhead out of her boredom.
Eva could not stand looking at that woman. She could not stand the sight of those eyes and the sight of that blood that trickled down from the woman's nipple. That blood, Eva thought, was also in her own mouth and she wanted to wash her mouth out, to get rid of the blood that was there.
"I am sorry, Harry," she said, almost weeping with her anger at herself. "I can't do any more to her, not now."
And then the German psychologist ran from the laboratory.