am a mother.  My children are a girl [Amanda] who is sixteen and a boy [Chris] who is fourteen.  I have always wished to have

a really big family.

 My husband is michael.  I will leave his name uncapitalized by intention.  he is a sweet and dear man and a great

provider for the family.  he is not what I want in bed at all.  his penis is not big.  he is not a dominating lover.  Half

the time, I don't even know if he wants to fuck me at all.  Maybe he is gay... or he should be anyhow.

 I guess I might sound like a bitch in this story.  I do love my husband and my kids.  Ideally, whatever might happen

will be for the best for everyone.  I don't want a divorce.  I just want some big, Black cock to totally conquer me in the

most Dominating ways imaginable.

 I have a million fantasies about it.  I dream about it all the time.  I watch any movie I can get where a Black stud

is pounding some lucky little white slut.  I always wish it was me.  There are very few Black men around where I live.  If

there were more, I am sure I would give in to my desires.  I would love something special though.

 Any fucking from a Black man would be welcomed by me right now... the way I feel.  I admit though, I would dream the

best of the ultimate situation.  Having the best Black stud totally take over all of my life... make this a forever thing...

no escape for me at all.

 I love the word Nigger.  I hope that won't offend too many people who are reading this confession of mine.  It is

such a sexy word.  My family is racist.  Maybe I am too... but if it helps some hung Nigger stud get his perfectly willing

dream slut, is it so bad?  I wouldn't get so crazy for just a white guy... I want my lover Black as Black can be.  Dark...

African featured.  Thick Lips... thicker cock.  I want Him to be willing to do anything to have me as His slave too.

 Rape fantasy turns me on [and stuff fantasy too] even though I know I would have to just freely 'allow' my Nigger

stud to do anything he wanted to me even without the use of violence if I was really with Him anyhow.  Still... if He liked

to slap me around, I would love to be able to 'fight' enough to make it feel real.  Ultimately, I would moan like a perfectly

contest whore while I was fucked though.

 I think if my husband had to watch some [before he was killed maybe?] it would be so hot.  I really do get wet to

imagine that.  I can dream of a night when I am in bed with poor michael.  One, or two, or even more Nigger studs just enter

our bedroom.  They have no problems with michael.  They want to impress me though.  They don't have to beat michael like They

do... but they can see that the pure violence is exciting me, and They beat him like a bitch for me.

 The phone is right beside the bed... but I just hold the sheet over my half-naked body while these Nigger studs

foreplay with my poor husband.  Then michael is thrown into the corner and told to be fucking quiet.  No one wants any

problems from him now.  I can imagine Niggers from anywhere between the ages of seventy and seven for who might be in my room

to fuck me.  If They are black and have big cocks, it is all I need.  I also need no condoms used.

 I said I always wanted a large family.  It might be shocking, but now I want all the kids I will have to be as dark

as I want my lovers to be too.  Getting pregnant with a half-Nigger child would be so perfect.  If I ever get a chance, I

will go on fertility drugs for a Black Master if I could become pregnant by Him.  It would probably real life ruin me... but

I am sure I would be too horny to resist.  I dream of being made pregnant by a Black cock.

 michael would have to watch.  I would protest just a little at first... give michael some hope.  If I was being

slapped though, it would be quick that I would 'agree' to do 'anything' for my Nigger rapists.  I'd want to be as passionate

for the Boys as I could possible be.  I'd want kissing... touching... moaning.  I'd suck cock... but only to get it ready for

my pussy.  All of that potent baby seed would need to go where it would do the most good.

 My dreams are always like this.  They can go on and on.  Anything can happen.  The dirtier and more crazy extreme,

the better.  I would love to be filmed while fucked.  The guys would keep the pictures.  It would be perfect for blackmail. 

As bad as getting Black pregnant would be, I think my husband and I would be able to be forced to do anything to stop his

family from getting a copy of this hot party.

 I think I would actually suggest to the guys to fuck duane too... if they didn't do it on their own.  I wonder how

michael would handle a real cock?  It makes me smile to imagine it.

 I can imagine anything.  I know this situation could go any direction.  Getting raped in my own home would likely

involve my kids.  The idea scares me, but it would still be hot too.  I don't know if they would just watch me with the

Niggers or if I would have to watch them with the Niggers?  Maybe we would all have to be with the Niggers together? 

Anything could happen I guess.  If it was a true rape, I wouldn't have a say. 

 I don't only dream of rape.  I do want to be willing too.  I want to be videotaped in the most compromised

situations.  Sometimes the video would be perfect for blackmailing me... but sometimes the guy would send it to all my family

no matter what I do to stop him.  If I don't know what would happen... and I make the video anyhow... I really would be the

stupidest cunt ever.  I'd deserve anything that would happen.

 I don't care.  I want it now.  I need it now.

 I guess I am wondering if anyone will want to talk to me about this.  Maybe someone can help me with this... talk me

out of it, or make me finally give in to the dream? 

 My name is Leta.  I will be online at yahoo as willingwhiteslut@yahoo.com  Either my husband or my kids are

almost always around... but I think it could be possible to still get a little crazy for the right guy.  I'd like to find

out.

 Thanks for reading.
 Love Leta

Thus sexually frustrated women of all ages, single and married began to present in doctor’s offices with all manner of semi-vague symptoms, none of which fit any specific diagnosis except profound sexual frustration combined with the generalized, but very real discomfort of the unrelieved engorgement do to naturally occurring arousal (the female version of blue balls).  This mix of symptoms was eventually classified as the symptoms of female hysteria and encompassed both the physical and emotional manifestations.  Women, especially wives, were not expected to be sexually responsive creatures and few men knew how to truly pleasure their partners, hence for many a married women the marital bed consisted of frequent intercourse and accompanying arousal and yet virtually no relief, not from their spouse or themselves.  Teenage girls faced the same problem with massive hormonally induced arousal and no approved avenue for release.

The solution was simple cheap and profitable for the doctors.  They would manually masturbate the women to orgasm or orgasms as the case may be, although they didn’t refer to their treatments in this manner.  Nevertheless when a female of any age underwent such therapy the doctor sent them on their way feeling much better and sure to return whenever they were in need of more treatments for their condition.  It wasn’t unusual in those days for some children and including young female hardly into their teens to be routinely masturbated.   It not only guaranteed satisfied patients, but the profits formed a significant percentage of doctor’s incomes.

The story that follows in fiction, but it is based upon fact.  The circumstances about a certain young woman are recorded only in fragmentary form, but the event happened and while this was written about as an extreme case, there must have been scores if not hundreds or even thousands of lesser cases of girls considered to be horrifyingly abnormal just because they dared express an interest in satisfying their God given seual desires.

 

*****************************************************

The year is 1889 in France and thirteen year-old named Josette Legard is being seen for acute female hysteria and intractable masturbation in the office of Dr. Blundell.  It is her sixth visit in the last few months.  Dr. Blundell has tried most everything he could think of and yet nothing has worked from chastity belts to restraints.  The last visit he had used a metal probe, heated red hot to burn the girl’s clitoris causing her extreme agony at the time, but as soon as the burn had healed, she once more began to manifest symptoms of wantonness.  He’d decided to consult another physician at the University Medical College, a Dr. Jeher who recommended a most unusual experimental treatment.

          Hence little Josette found herself removed from her mother’s side and escorted into the medical college and prepared for treatment.  She was stripped then placed in stirrups where her tiny bit of new grown pubic hair was completely shaved, after which she was given numerous colonics, then exhausted she was led nude to a bed where she was tied spread-eagle and the nurses applied oil to her whole body teasing her sexually responsive areas to the point of climax repeatedly but leaving her restrained, firmly tied, sexually frustrated and completely infuriated until she at last slept in her impotent rage.  Her writhing and arousal were considered evidence of her disorder.  The next morning before sunup she was awakened, untied, allowed to void and then escorted still completely nude throughout much of the hospital in front of men and women, staff and visitors until at last she was escorted into an operating theater with a large observation area in which were seated scores of doctors and researchers all assembled for her treatment and she was appalled as any young girl would be to be so terribly exposed – her sex shaved and naked before all these men, but she knew not that the worst was still to come.

          The theater had an exam table with the head raised and stirrups for pelvic exam in place.  However unlike a normal exam table this one had two glistening metal cylinders pointing up toward the head of the table at a 45-degree angle.  They were about 10 inches long and maybe measured 4 inches around, so there were not huge, but as any virgin would she saw with some insight what they might be used for and shuddered in fear.

She was surrounded by, white-coated men, who suddenly lifted her in the air and onto the table where she found her legs held far apart, her exposed sex facing the crowd and then a thick salve was swabbed over her vaginal opening and thickly over her tiny anal passage.  Josette, have realized her body was designed for a purpose and like most young people she’d nor been blind when animals mated so she understood on some level that the man’s organ should enter her womanhood, but until this moment she’d never dreamed that something the size of those metal cylinders could be forced inside her tiny passages, but clearly they intended to do just that and as that thought became clear in her mind they moved her forward both cold metal objects entering her un-aroused body, the anal one forcing her passage wider than she’d ever been dilated while the vaginal probe found and painfully tore her hymen away as she writhed in agony, restrained in the arms of her unexpected torturers.  There was no sounds in the huge room except for her screams but the men ignored her pain and terror and just continued forcing the probes all the way in, then forced her to lay back on the bed as strong leather straps were cinched down to hold her in place. When all was set, her screams had, at last, died down to moaning as her body adjusted to the violations.  Then one of the gathered doctors reached into a large basin of some type of liquid she’d not noticed before suspended over burner with a small blue flame.  Her body tensed as he reached toward her sex and suddenly she changed gears as his fingers smooth and light as silk covered her outer labia and shaved mound with delightfully hot oil. She involuntarily uttered a soft sound of pleasure.  He probed into the basin once more and this time his finger traced a path along each inner lip, coating, rubbing and then taking the tiny pink fold her rubbed up and down, gently tugging and pulling, the action exposing her tiny clitoris that even now was swelling and growing massively from a tiny node the size an small pea to it erect glory nearly ½ inch long.   Next his fingers traced the tissues were the probes disappeared in her at the opening of her womanhood and then along the tightly stretched anal passage. Josette could feel herself responding with eagerness.  She was ready to climax if only he would touch her where she really needed it, even the pain of the violation would not stop her climax.

He reached for the oil once more and the minute his hand touched her engorged organ she exploded into orgasm and for the first time the gathered assembly made some noise as oohs and aahs met her displayed sexuality, but she had little time to contemplate her complete and total exposure and humiliation because his attentions were still focused upon her clitoris. 

Josette was over the peak of her climax and as the waves of pleasure settled down the attention she was receiving on her displayed clitoris did not diminish and were becoming markedly uncomfortable.  She fought against her restraints begging them to stop, pleading with them, but her cries fell on deaf ears.  I can’t take this she thought suddenly aware she was wet, her chest covered in perspiration from the effort of her sexual stimulation and after about ten minutes she seemed to change gears and her organ of pleasure began responding with pleasure to the oiled fingers playing upon it and she built her orgasm rapidly. Until suddenly she found release once more.  And so it continued for the next two hours the time interval shortening until she could hardly determine the end of one climax and beginning of the next.

Then somehow her body shifted something internal and the contact seemed to fade away into the background as if her body knew she needed rest from the constant onslaught of sexual pleasures.  She relaxed for a minute, but those treating her were not pleased to see her rest so soon and they knew how her body responded better than she did.  Her eyes flew open, her rest over, as a pair of hands cupped her barely developing breasts.  Gentle, oiled fingers kneaded her ultra-sensitive nipples, forcing her to arch her back in pleasure and she once more entered a string of orgasms, her voice echoing in the chamber as her poor restrained body was strained by the pleasures they were determined to wring out of her. 

So it continued, though out the day and into the night, While she was allowed fluids offer her amid the exquisite torment she was not allowed to void her need growing more and more desperate as her orgasmic contractions tore through her body again and again.  Her tender sex was now painfully inflamed and raw from friction in spite of the lubrication being used.   Teams of doctors relieved each other regularly, but their was no relief for their poor tormented victim, suffering the torments of pleasure as her engorged organ simply refused to shut down and her climaxes seemed to become more intense and powerful, each one seeming to convulse her whole being, forcing screams of pleasure from her throat which gradually became more and more raspy and weak as her voice went still begging them to stop, begging them to show some mercy, but they were convicted that they were in the right and doing what was right for her, hence the excused themselves from humanity and continued in their own course. 

          She had to go it was getting so painful she didn’t think she could stand it for another moment and yet the doctor manipulating her did not alter his pace for all her begging and damn her body it was building toward another powerful climax, the rubbing teasing her closer and closer yet leaving her crying out, hanging on the edge of relief forever, until the familiar contractions began and with them this time she exploded, her urine forced from her in a powerful stream providing relief but gaining her no mercy.  A buck of water was used to rinse her off and the indecent assault on her sex continued.

As time past the medical team learned to rely upon her body language because her voice was absolutely gone.  By now it was obvious that Josette was so exhausted that the experiential treatment could not be extended much longer before she lost consciousness, but they team decided to see her full capacity and as the day progressed the gallery filled once more and soon was standing room only until at last in early afternoon Josette fell mercifully into darkness and the test concluded.

gAs she lay unaware score of the medical staff came forward and see and touch – examine they would claim her large clitoris proving that they would allow her now rest even when unaware of their manipulations.  At last she was taken to be cleaned by the nursing staff and tucked in bed.  When she awakened the pain in her vulva was severe, most of the skin over her clitoris literally rubbed off in spite of the lubrication.

Meanwhile in his office Dr. Jeher writes to Dr. Blundell that only time will see if the over stimulation will bring about the long hoped for cure.  She had been amazingly capable of response and had achieved release more than 125 times in 30 hours or on average about once every 15 minutes.  He concluded, “therefore I cannot be certain of any outcome.  I believed the child should be carefully observed.  Should there be significant recurrence, I suggest radical amputation of the female organ and any related tissue.”

 

 

Author’s note:  The doctors sincerely felt that their actions were therapeutic.  After all there was no penis inserted in to the girl’s vagina so how could there be anything sexual about their actions.  It is not surprising that this period is sometimes referred to as the period of the Great Terror.

 

Any questions, comments, or suggestions, all are welcome at:  Thomascan06@yahoo.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The weekend was progressing exactly as planned.  Betsy's life story continued with her waiting to end her relationship with Ron.  She regretted the previous period of her life but she was still grateful for the experiences.  After all, Betsy reasoned, it was these experiences that made her what she was today and Betsy was extremely happy with her present life.  She had met Danny a few years ago and he was that one person who each person hoped to meet in his or her lifetime.

Betsy couldn't remember how long she remained loyal to Ron but it must have been many months.  Having sex with Ron's friends and strangers was something that changed Betsy.  She became numb when it first happened and quickly fell into Ron's devious trap.  Today she realized that he used her to satisfy his perverted sexual desires, but back then, she would do anything, absolutely anything, to please him.  The ultimate reward in the world to Betsy, then, was being accepted by Ron even though she knew what she was doing was wrong.  It amazed her that a southern, Baptist girl could do such immoral things.

The middle period of Ron's relationship lasted far longer than Betsy would have liked.  Now she thought back to how naïve and stupid she had been, as the relationship progressed onto the next stage.  At the time she should have been suspicious when Ron begged her to dress up.  He even provided her with the attire and at first Betsy merely mumbled a few excuses for not wearing the clothes.  Ron quickly convinced her that it would make him happy if she dressed up and he persisted until she eventually surrendered.

Ron even helped and coaxed her, as she dressed, and he kept giving her compliments the whole time.  The attire was far sexier than she would ever wear out in public but that didn't deter Ron.  She wore a very short, black skirt that hugged her seductive hips like wet silk.  The skirt covered what Betsy considered the skimpiest thong panties, as they consisted of nothing but a small heart-shaped patch over the tip of her pelvis.  Attached to the patch were mere strings holding the heart in place, which gave her the feeling of not wearing any panties.

She wore a sheer black blouse that revealed a lot more than Betsy liked.  It was see-through and she breathed a big sigh of relief that there were small pockets directly over her breasts.  Luckily, she thought, the pockets helped hide the fact her snow-white bra was a cutout type, which left her areolas and nipples fully exposed.  Betsy wondered whatever made her fall for Ron's devious scheme but then she remembered that her devotion to the man was about to change.

Dressed in black and donning knee-high, black boots, Betsy glanced at herself in the mirror and the sexy sight took her breath away.  Today, lying on the bed dreaming about those early years brought back an awful memory.  She recalled that she was going to protest and plead with Ron but she didn't get the chance.  Ron grabbed her by the arm and they were out the door of her apartment before she could say or do anything.

All of a sudden a powerful tremor shot up her backbone with the thought of how the end came.  Like she did in the morning dreamland session, Betsy laid flat on her back with her arms and legs outstretched in spread-eagle fashion.  It felt much better when she assumed the prisoner-like position, which gave her the feeling of helplessness.

The images and visualizations were revolting and Betsy questioned her willpower to watch it all.  This was the interval of her life that was the hardest to recall and think about.  'Yes,' she thought, 'I must see it and then maybe I can forget.'  She closed her eyes and her eyelids lit up with the next installment.

Ron took her arm and they walked to the hotel room without saying a word.  When the door opened, Betsy knew the relationship was over.  She had to make a break and tell Ron that she did not want him anymore.  But sadly for Betsy, the movie played out in her head, and the eventual breakup would come later.

Ron had to push her into the room.  She stumbled across the floor until she was standing about a foot in front of the fattest man.  "Gino is paying you... and paying you dearly.  So make it good, baby," Ron said.  Ron blocked any exit and Betsy stood on legs that were almost ready to collapse.

A tear came to her eye realizing she was a whore.  Being paid for sex was the last thing in the world Betsy thought she would do.  All of a sudden Gino stood up and started stripping his clothes.  Her eyes opened so wide they hurt when she saw his fat belly revealed.  The man had no shame and he let his big stomach jiggle uncontrollably with her looking on.  When Gino was completely naked, Betsy thought she was going to be sick.

Probably the worst part of it all, Betsy reasoned now long after the sordid event, was the fact she still remembered his name.  Betsy considered Gino the grossest man she had ever met.  She dreamed of that horrible night and shuddered so hard that the bed began to shake.  If this was the way to forget, then Betsy was determined to remember it all.

Gino sat on the edge of the bed and he sort of leaned backwards, which was the only way she was ever going to get at his manhood.  Betsy stared at his pecker, as it hovered below his big belly, and she almost wanted to laugh at how silly he looked.  Gino's cock looked small and paltry next to his oversized belly and it was extraordinarily thin compared to the rest of his body.  His fat stomach looked ugly and she shivered at the thought of touching it. 

All of a sudden Ron had his hands on her.  "Take your blouse and skirt off... so Gino can see what you look like," Ron whispered.  "Com'on baby... show him your tits... and your gorgeous pussy.  Show him what he's getting for his money, babe."

Betsy never knew if Ron stripped her clothes or she did it.  Suddenly she was standing in her bra and panties and Gino's eyes were bugged out at the sight of the cutout bra.  "Holy, sweet Jesus!  What knockers!  Her fucking tits are gorgeous, Ron, and those nipples...!"

It was probably the first and only time in his life that Gino was in charge.  "Turn around... show me all you got, Sweetheart," he ordered.  Somehow she remained on her feet and slowly turned around.  "Oooooh, now that's beautiful.  Come a little closer, Sweetheart... I'm not going to hurt you."

Suddenly Ron shoved her next to the bed.  Gino sat up and his hands got busy.  He popped her boobs out of the bra and used his hands to fondle her making sure his fingers lingered on her nipples.  Then she flinched when his right hand swooped downward and covered the delicate heart-shaped thong.  Gino rammed his pudgy fingers between her thighs, which she was trying to keep closed, and he let his vulgar middle finger press against the string between her legs.

Ron was standing directly behind her and he held her steady for Gino.  She looked down and saw the filthy man was stretching her nipple far out from her chest.  All of a sudden Ron kicked her feet apart and that was all Gino needed.  "Sweet mother of God... my finger is in," he whizzed hardly able to contain his excitement.  "I'm in... I'm fucking in her cunt.  My finger is in her cunt!"

Betsy vividly remembered crying at that point, but the worst was yet to come.  She bucked up and down trying to evade his pudgy finger but it was hopeless, as he finger-fucked her.  Gino was close enough to smell the sweet scent of heaven and it was a drug to his overly aroused mind.  "Get down, Sweetheart... on your knees," he said laying back on the bed so his pelvis was openly displayed.  "Suck it, Sweetheart... earn your fucking money!"

Ron pushed her down to her knees until the small penis was mere inches from her overly flushed face.  The moment was a lasting memory for Betsy and she remembered staring at the man's gross belly and small cock.  It was utterly profound and Betsy could not believe her dilemma.  "Suck'im baby... and make it good," Ron whispered.

Suddenly her head was in Gino's lap and his pecker was in her fist.  She was positive Ron kept his hand on the back of her head the whole time but what did it really matter now, she reasoned.  Suddenly her forehead was hitting his belly and it was impossible to reach his cock with her mouth.  Her momentary relief was ended when Ron coaxed her onto the bed so that she was sideways to the fat man.  Nothing was in her way so it was easy for Ron to shove her head until it was on top of Gino's cock.

Her lips held tightly closed for a brief moment, but then someone forced her head downwards with a violent push.  Gino's cock was shoved into her mouth and she struggled madly trying to keep it from going down her throat.  Her mouth was like a volcano to Gino and the heat quickly robbed his resolve to prolong the experience.

Betsy felt his overstuffed body tighten like a violin string and she didn't like the tune.  His cock throbbed like crazy and she realized Gino's stamina was limited.  Betsy would never forget that first blast of cum when it hit the back of her throat like a rocket.  She vowed at that moment to do whatever it took to end her relationship with Ron.

The burning lava surprised Betsy, but not nearly as much as the size of the man's reservoir.  It seemed like Gino would never stop filling her mouth with the sticky, creamy cum and eventually she began to choke.  When the end finally came, she breathed a sigh of relief thinking it was over.  But her hopes were quickly dashed.  "Damn!  I haven't had an orgasm like that in years... Now let's see what her pussy is like?"  Gino spoke and all Betsy could do was wonder.

"This fucking Viagra will keep me hard for hours... Let's see what this whore can do."  Betsy had no idea that Gino was using a new remedy, which cured a man's erection problems.  Even though the pill was not actually distributed to the public yet, Gino had gotten a trial sample.  He worked for Pfizer, the company that developed Viagra, and Gino personally knew the scientist who invented the drug.

The drug was actually developed as a heart medication to treat angina and hypertension but the company quickly realized the pill had far more dramatic affects on erectile dysfunction.  Pfizer realized the greater potential in that area and started a few preliminary tests.  Although the clinical trials didn't commence until the early 90's, the pill was available to a select few in the late 80's.  When Gino heard of the tremendous power of the new pill, he used his influence to attain a trial sample from his friend.  Although he hadn't used Viagra during sex, Gino was well aware of how long he retained a hardon after taking just one pill.

Betsy's tears came again but neither man cared.  In a split second, her bra and panties were ripped off her body leaving her dressed only in high-top boots.  Looking back on it, she now realized that both men found her nakedness alluring and sexy.  Betsy remembered how she kept her eyes closed, not able to look at the man.  Gino shifted around until he was between her splayed legs, which were forced apart by the big man.  Betsy felt him poking around with his penis and eventually he inserted the narrow head into her wetness.

Suddenly he started riding her like a mad bull and all she hoped for was that he would climax quickly.  That did not happen and Betsy endured what she considered the most painful nightmare.  He pumped his pecker in and out for minutes, which could easily have been hours.  Eventually he began to sweat like a pig from the strenuous exercise.  The sweat ran off his brow and off his chest falling onto her twisting torso, which merely added the Gino's enjoyment.

After what seemed like an eternity, Gino pulled out.  "I'm having a hard time... use your tits," he ordered.  At first she didn't know what he meant but he made it clear.  "Use your tits... wrap those jugs around my cock... make me cum again, Honey."

Betsy almost fainted when he shifted around to lie flat on his back.  Once again Ron was there to ensure her obedience and he prodded her until she was crouching between the man's fat, hairy legs.  His hard cock bobbed just below his fat belly and she slowly moved hoping to end her turmoil quickly.

She crawled upward until her chest was just over his groin, and then she did it.  Betsy arched her back enough so that she could put her boobs on either side of his cock, and then she put her hands on the sides of her breasts.  She moaned when her hands pushed sideways until her boobs squashed the cock between them.

As dumbfounded as she must have been back then, Betsy willingly moved up and down so that her tits stroked Gino's cock.  She remembered looking down at the head of his cock poking up with every stroke and suddenly it happened.  The thick cum blasted from the end of his cock and hit her right in the face.  Again the man's juices were limitless and he covered her upper chest, neck and chin with the white cream.

Gino had no sooner climaxed when she was manhandled again.  The man had the endurance of a raging bull, which was obviously the result of the little blue pills.  Weakened from what she had gone through, Betsy almost died when Gino handed Ron another wad of bills.   "Here... this is for one more.  She's the best whore... ever," Gino whispered to her boyfriend.  "I can keep a hardon for one more... I want that luscious ass!"

It happened very quickly and Betsy was helpless.  The two determined men easily rotated her body until she was bent over the edge of the bed.  Her knees were on the floor and her upper body was draped on the bed, as the strong men held her prisoner.  Betsy remembered screaming at Ron for mercy but to no avail.  When the rotten man touched her ass with his everlasting hard cock, her heart stopped.

The memory was hazy but she remembered Gino playing around with her open slit most likely getting his penis covered with lubrication.  Betsy sobbed when he put the head of his cock at the entrance to her precious hole.  And then she felt him push... and push... and push until the narrow shaft was in.  She couldn't even put her arms down or reach behind because Ron was on the bed holding her arms high above her head.

It was the longest journey for Betsy.  She sobbed and cried and Gino kept fucking her ass like a madman.  He surely must have reamed her out and she was actually glad when he climaxed in her ass putting an end to the nasty affair.

The remainder of the night was nothing but a blur, as she thought about it now.  Betsy vaguely remembered Gino leaving the hotel room while she and Ron stayed.  She cringed thinking back to how they had sex before Ron had to go home to his wife.  That merely confirmed her decision to end the relationship with the man she once thought was the man of her dreams.  

***

Betsy remained in a trance enjoying the wonderful chance to slip back in time.  She was almost to the end of the worst chapter of her life and rushed forward wanting it to be over.  The movie resumed with Ron showing up at her place unannounced.  Betsy had gone over everything in her mind and she knew exactly what to tell him.

Betsy had decided to end the relationship, but all of a sudden, she was deathly afraid.  Ron stood at the door of her apartment expecting a kiss and that was what he got.  They embraced and Ron told her how much he loved her.  His voice was soft and loving and suddenly Betsy lost her nerve.

Ron told her that he was taking her somewhere special.  He then told her that they were going to meet his boss who was a very influential man and the head of a big, powerful company.  Ron stressed that it would go a long way to his getting promoted if his boss approved of her.  With all her courage gone with the wind, Betsy shuddered to think that she would have to endure one more night with Ron.

She remembered making a few feeble excuses for not going out but nothing worked at the time.  Ron justified her dressing up again and Betsy was completely dumbfounded at how malleable she was then.  He handed her a bundle of clothes and told her that his boss would find her ravishing when she dressed up.  Betsy remembered the clothes and it sent a shiver of excitement down her spine remembering how good she looked that night.

She wore a jet-black, evening dress and undergarments to match.  The strapless gown was perfect, as it was fairly loose, but still clung to every curve of her tall, lithe body.  The material was rich silk-like and the dress made her look very provocative and alluring.  Her bra didn't have straps and it was made of shear lace with pushup cups that made her breasts appear overly seductive.  She shivered thinking of what Ron's boss said when he saw them.

The rest of her attire added to her beauty.  Her panties were skimpy but they did cover all her abundant assets.  They were cut tantalizingly high on the sides, which gave her the appearance of being a tall, lanky Amazon.  The black high heels were stiletto type and Betsy appeared ready for an elegant party.

The way Ron got her to do everything he wanted simply amazed Betsy to this day.  They went to a luxury condo where his boss lived and the elevator ride up the tower complex to the top was quiet and eerie.  Just before the elevator stopped, Ron decided to talk.  "Stan... that's my boss.  He will probably want to have a nice dinner and then maybe some dancing.  I'm not sure what he'll do... but he was very pleased when he saw your picture," he said.  "This is really important.  He promised me a promotion if things went good."

'If things went good'... Betsy had no illusions as to what that meant.  When the doors of the elevator opened, she had a hard time walking when they went to the door of the condo.  Luckily for Betsy, Ron held her by the arm but when the doorbell rang, it was like someone put a heavy weight on her chest.  The door opened and she felt the whole world coming down on her.

"You must be Betsy.  I've heard so much about you... please, come in," the ruggedly handsome man said.  His hand motioned for her to enter and he took her arm from Ron.  Then Stan guided her over to a table, which was richly setup for dining.  "You look ravishing... truly gorgeous, my dear."

The smug grin on Stan's face told Betsy everything she needed to know.  She reasoned that she was in big trouble and her heart beat so fast it was hard for her to breath.  Her chest pounded and Betsy hoped it wasn't too noticeable.

The three ate a lovely meal and then the fun started.  Ron's boss obviously had too much wine and his cordial manner suddenly changed.  "I ssink we should go into my entertainment room for somessing to drink... yano, sort of take the edge off," he said with a little slur, and a chuckle.  She found nothing funny at all with what the man said but didn't know how to get out of her mounting dilemma.

This was the point of the evening that Betsy's memory stopped... up until today.  The demons had always been too strong to continue but suddenly she vowed to see it through to the very end.  Ron's boss invited them into a large room set up for entertaining guests to his lavish home.

Looking back on it, Betsy saw how things progressed.  Both men already had too much to drink but that didn't stop them from consuming more.  Stan handed her a drink and then he began kissing her neck and shoulders, as he stood slightly behind her.  Despite her shrugs and attempts to get away from his caresses, Stan wasn't a bit deterred.  At one point she considered sitting down but quickly decided it was better to be on her feet.

On drink number two, Stan got much bolder.  Music played in the background and they danced.  He kept putting his hands on her waist, her hips and even her behind.  Every time she tried to evade his assault, he merely moved his hands to another place so that it was a constant fondling.

On drink number three, she, too, was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol.  Now when they danced, her evasive actions lagged his bold fondling and caresses by a second or two.  One time Stan even pulled the top of her dress out far enough so he could see her entire bare breast.  Probably the worst memory of that part was her giggling along with his excited laughter when he threatened to pop her boob right out of her bra and dress.

Now the movie skipped right along because Betsy was determined to expose all that happened during that frightful night.  Stan turned the music up a little louder and they danced some more.  The constant dancing and returning to the bar for more drinks were taking a toll on Betsy.  They danced for a little while; drank for a little while, and then refilled their glasses with drink number six.  Today, Betsy could only assume Stan had put more alcohol into her drinks than she was used to, because her memory of what happened next was somewhat blurred.

Ron's boss waltzed her down a hallway and into what she thought was a bedroom.  Now she could see it was really a dungeon, a room where a deviate, perverted man did things to women without any regard for their well-being.

Tears welled-up in her eyes, as she continued to recall the drastic events.  The room was dimly lit and at first Betsy didn't realize what she was getting into.  When the devious man locked handcuffs on her dainty wrists, she was too confused to speak.  Then the cuffs were tied to straps coming down from the ceiling and suddenly Betsy was helpless.  Stan tightened the straps until she was forced to stand on her tiptoes.

All of a sudden Betsy realized the peril she was in.  "What... gawd, please... what are you doing?  Let me go... please!" she said with as much emotion as she could muster.  Glancing down, Betsy saw that her extended arms being stretched above her head had pulled her boobs right out of her bra and dress.  The lacy bra was completely above the top of her dress and looking closer, Betsy saw her bra was sagging downward revealing the top portion of her nipples.

Stan moved directly in front of her and put his face up to hers.  "Ron tells me you like getting fucked by strangers," he said.  Then he forced his finger into her mouth and flicked her tongue up and down.  "Fucked in the mouth... fucked in the cunt... fucked in the ass," he said.  His free hand first covered her pelvis, which she tried in vain to move backwards.  "Tells me you like it rough!"  Then he moved his hand behind Betsy and squeezed her ass in a most threatening manner. 

"I'm going to make you beg, slut... beg me to fuck your precious cunt... beg me to fuck this precious ass," he whispered giving her ass another big squeeze.  Betsy thought of kicking the man but quickly gave that up when the weight of her body put too much strain on her wrists.  She merely wriggled and twisted feeling his brazen hands start roaming all over her body.  Stan purposely pinched the top portion of her dress with his thumb and forefinger before pushing the garment all the way down to her waist.  A smile crossed his face, as he glared down, leering at her succulent breasts, which were almost completely out of her lacy, black bra.

Suddenly Stan relaxed the straps and Betsy let out a big sigh of relief when her feet were flat on the floor.  She had never experienced any form of bondage or S&M and she feared the consequences.  The flashback even gave her goose bumps, as the frightening experiences came back to her.

Stan leaned against her shivering torso and put his lips next to her ear.  "Now those are some tits... I bet you love having them felt by strangers," he said.  "Don't you?"

He waited for what seemed like an eternity.  "Ron tells me that you're the best fuck... best piece of ass around," he whispered keeping his mouth next to her ear.  "He says you'll make me happy.  Are you going to make my happy, darling?"

She didn't know what to do.  The words came out before she could think.  "Yes... yes!  Oh gawd, no... no!"

All of a sudden Stan was gone.  He walked around and stood behind her so she couldn't see him.  Her head went side to side and suddenly she got the chance to see what was in the room.  Her eyes opened wide when she saw various pieces of equipment that looked like items found in a torture dungeon.  All she could do was emit whimpers, as she imagined what each item could be used for.

Stan was an expert and he loved being a master.  Nothing was more satisfying than breaking the will of a beautiful woman, and especially one as gorgeous as Betsy, he mused.  He vowed to take time to tease and taunt her until she broke.

Suddenly he was whispering in her ear again.  "Ron said I could do anything I wanted... and you would cooperate."  His fingers twisted in her hair and yanked her head backwards so she stared at the ceiling.  "He said you loved being fucked... and that you would be my little slut."

Then Stan let go of her head so she could stand up straight.  He walked around until he was right in front of her.  There was an evil smile on his face and it made Betsy madder than ever.  She fumed and her eyes glared at the man wanting to defeat the bastard.

"Ron tells me you're going to college to be a physics professor.  I admire that," he said.  "Not only do you have a great body... sexy as Hell.  But you have brains, too."

Suddenly his fingers were on the top portion of her bra.  He jerked the lace, out and down, with one swift motion.  "Whew... now that's a set of tits!"

Now she remembered it more clearly.  Stan turned into a 'Dr. Jekyll', as his pleasant demeanor suddenly became much more crude and obnoxious.  He grabbed the cups of her flimsy, lacy bra and ripped them apart much to her amazement.

Stan could see how Betsy set her jaw and seemed to be more determined than ever to fight him.  "Women with great tits shouldn't wear bras," he whispered.  "If I didn't know better... I'd say those nipples are hard, waiting for me to feel them... taste them?"

It was hopeless to squirm, or try to move, so she merely stood still.  Then he slowly and smoothly rolled her dress down and over her flared hips letting the garment drift to the floor.  He gave one of those catcall whistles when he saw her sexy, black panties and that made Betsy steam with anger.

Clad in only her panties, Stan had to admit Betsy was truly a refined, sexy woman.  His hands caressed her bare hips and slid down the sides feeling the heat radiate from her body.  Then he slowly grabbed the lace-covered elastic around her waist and pulled the silky panties down to the floor.  He yanked them under her feet and put them under his nose.  With his eyes locked on hers, Stan sniffed the garment giving the impression he liked the wonderful smell.

Naked and shivering, Betsy felt totally helpless.  She quickly glanced around the room in an effort to find Ron but gave out a groan of despair when she saw him.  Her boyfriend had his penis in his hand and he was fisting his rod like a raving maniac.  He obviously condoned what was happening and Betsy suddenly felt very alone in her struggle.

It was time for Stan to prove that he was master.  His plan was simple and Stan reasoned he would not need all the equipment in the room.  He would fuck her mind, then her luscious body. 

"I think our little professor is horny... don't you?" Stan said to nobody in particular.  All of a sudden he tightened the straps hanging from the ceiling again, just enough so that she had to stand up straight.  Betsy looked down and Stan was putting bracelets around her ankles and there was a length of pipe attached to them holding her legs spread.  Despite kicking and waving her legs, Stan had little trouble putting her in the most precarious, captive position.

Betsy remembered vividly how she pleaded and begged Stan to relent.  "Dear gawd... please Stan.  I don't know what Ron told you... but I'm not that kind of woman," she moaned.  "Please, oh please... let me go."

Stan merely grabbed her snatch and squeezed hard.  "Do you see all these pieces of equipment?  I plan using every one of them on you," he whispered.  Betsy felt her heartbeat speed up and her breathing get very ragged.  "The little professor is going to have something to tell her students when we're done."

Suddenly he let go of her crotch and started waving something in her face.  She tried to focus on the item, as it was real close to her eyes, and shuddered when she recognized a clothespin.  "What do you think I can do with this?"

Betsy was speechless and watched in horror, as he produced another clothespin.  Her breathing stopped when his arms lowered and Betsy knew exactly what he planned.  All of a sudden the two springy pins closed on her enlarged nipples and at first there was nothing.  No pain for a brief moment, and then it hit.  She cried out and pleaded for Stan to stop.  "Ooow... ooowee.  Oh gawd... please, it hurts too much."

She thought back to the dire event and realized Stan had been extremely devious.  He left the clamps on her aching nipples and slowly walked around her struggling body a few times.  Then suddenly he had a cat o' nine tails in his hand and he was testing it by snapping the leather tails in the air a few times.  Every time he walked around in front of Betsy, he waved the menacing whip at her.

Betsy had feared the worst when Stan threatened her.  Then he disappeared and obviously wanted to give her time to think.  Betsy turned her head side to side frantically before focusing on some of the mysterious items around the room.  Stan was purposely giving her time to reflect before he turned her into his loyal slave.

The first item she noticed seemed to be some kind of rack with buckles to bind a person's wrists and ankles.  Betsy reasoned that if a person were bound in the rack, they would be stretched out in a spread-eagled position leaving them entirely helpless.  Then she noticed a large dildo attached to some kind of mechanism, which looked like it would move the dildo back and forth.  She blinked rapidly thinking how the dildo would be perilously close to the person's crotch.  It could mean only one thing and Betsy let out a whimper imagining what the big pecker would do to her.

Another apparatus was off to her left.  She stared at what appeared to be an electronic torture machine.  Again it was a stretcher type frame that a person would be buckled into.  There were electronic probes with long wires attached and Betsy shuddered when imagining where the probes would be placed.  Her heart rate quickened thinking that Stan planned to use the electric shocker on her.

"Yes... that can be a shocking experience.  I have had strong women beg me for mercy... beg me to stop," Stan whispered.  Betsy flinched wildly when his sudden voice scared her.  "Just think... what would happen if I hooked up your cunt to that machine?"

The thought of being strapped and confined on that equipment made Betsy's heartbeat increase another cadence.  She would absolutely die if he put one of those probes between her legs.  Her body twitched just thinking about getting a jolt down there.

Betsy felt her resolve dying so quickly she wasn't sure if she was strong enough to fight the man.  Stan knew the turmoil she was experiencing but he had one more shrewd chastisement.  He held a crystal object in his hand and the shape of it sent a shiver up Betsy's spine.  "Here, Sweetheart... lick this plug," Stan said.  "Get it nice and lubricated.  Guess what I have planned for you?"

She started begging again.  "Stan... oh gawd, Stan.  Please, please don't," she cried.  Suddenly she was speechless, as he carefully shoved the crystal plug between her lips. 

Stan knew Betsy was almost his.  He left the plug in her mouth for a few moments, and then he slowly walked around her sweat-covered body.  All of a sudden he stopped directly behind her.  Betsy sensed he dropped to his knees and then she felt something.  Stan put the tip of the glass butt-plug on her back and began running it all over.  He traced lines up and down, left and right, until he swooped downward.  He ran the tip onto her tightened ass cheeks and then he dropped lower to caress her thighs and legs.

Betsy had her eyes closed tightly and she was praying.  Her arms ached from being stretched but that did not matter at the time.  Then his hands closed on her rosy cheeks and squeezed.  Stan pried her cheeks apart and he witnessed utopia.  He spit into her crack and made sure to make enough noise so she knew what was happening.  Then he touched her with the plug again.

"No... no, I can't take anymore.  Please, dear gawd... I'll do anything... just stop," she pleaded with the man.

Stan had her but needed just a little more.  He ran the tip of the plug up and down her crack a few times before stopping right on her cherished asshole.

"Anything... dear gawd, Stan.  I'll do anything you want... just stop that... and don't use any of those goddamn things on me," she moaned trying her best to convince Stan to show her sympathy.

Betsy cringed as her dream unfolded.  Even now, years later, her body was covered with sweat.  She remembered how the night evolved and soon she was going to be rid of the demon that had haunted her since that horrible night.  She dared not stop the dream so she let the images continue.

Suddenly Stan's serious, rugged face was right in front of her eyes.  There was no smile or even a twinkle in his eye.  "So if I stop... if I stop, what will you do for me?" he asked.  "I would really hate to use torture on such a beautiful woman... and especially one who promises to do whatever I demand."

She stared into the eyes of the devil listening to every word.  "If I untie you... what will you do for me?" he whispered.

Betsy really didn't know what to say.  She had resigned herself to do whatever he demanded but was too confused to know what that entailed. 

"Let's say you masturbate," Stan said.  "Let's say I let you go... and you masturbate for us?"  And then he merely waved the crystal butt plug in front of her face, and she responded immediately.

"Yes... oh gawd, just untie me and let me go.  I'll do whatever you ask... just let me go.  I'll masturbate."  At the time, Betsy reasoned it was better to be free.  At least she would have a measure of control over what really happened.  She could not bare the thought of being stretched out on the various apparatuses in Stan's S and M torture chamber.

Suddenly Stan grabbed her head by intertwining his fingers through her hair.  He put his lips to her ear but didn't get a chance to say anything before she broke.  "You bastard... you fucking bastard.  I hate you," she hissed.

Stan cleverly rubbed the crystal plug down the center of her body stopping on her pelvis.  He didn't have to wait for her response.

"I'll... I'll masturbate for you.  Oh gawd... I'll masturbate if you free me," she said, but suddenly realizing something needed to be added.  "And don't use any of those horrible things on me."

Betsy's memory was vague after that point, especially after years of forgetfulness.  Somehow Stan untied her and Betsy chuckled thinking that the first thing she did was pull the hurtful clothespins off her extraordinarily hard nipples.  She was positive that they had suffered irreparable damage at the time, but quickly found out that was wrong.

Her next dilemma was how to masturbate?  Although she did it on a regular basis, she didn't know what would make Stan happy?  How or why she wound up wearing her bra and panties again was a mystery but she assumed Stan wanted it that way.  He had somehow fixed the bra so she could wear it again and voiced his approval at her wearing the black, sexy undies.

Now she remembered how awful it was to perform lewd, despicable acts with the two men leering at her.  At first she fondled her breasts trying to mimic what a man would do.  Betsy remembered that her seduction got the two men more aroused and worked up, which she regretted.  All of a sudden Stan's patience started to run thin.  "Show me your clit... show me that wonderful piece of meat, baby."

When she peeled her panties to the side and revealed her jewel to the man, Betsy felt totally embarrassed.  She looked directly at Stan and noticed how his face beamed.  His tongue licked his lips in expectation, as he kept up the verbal harassment.  "Pull it... pull it, baby!" he whispered.  "Show Daddy that little clitty."

Her dainty fingers pinched the delicate bud and pulled it completely out of its shell.  Betsy rolled the throbbing clitoris around and around feeling shame, yet an element of excitement.  "Harder... pull it harder, baby," Stan shouted the order this time.  "Daddy better see his darling slut cummin'... or else."  He then waved his hand around the room indicating what he meant.

Betsy couldn't bear to think about Stan's threat to use his perverted tools that were strewn around the room.  She tried her utmost to focus on one thing and strangely it was like every other time she masturbated.  Waves of lust began washing over the sands of time and a calm, peaceful feeling welled up in her chest.  Suddenly the shame of masturbating diminished.

The last thing in the world Betsy intended was enticing the man.  But what choice did she have?  Her emotions soared past the point of no return and she closed her eyes letting it happen.  She pulled the cups of her bra below her boobs and let the men ogle her stiff, hardened nipples.  The fingers of her left hand fondled one nipple, and then the other in a very familiar fashion.  She caressed her nipples knowing exactly what felt good, and Stan and Ron let her know they approved.

The fingers of her right hand were skilled in the ways only a woman understood.  She put the palm of her hand on her upraised pelvis and let her fingers slide through the wetness between her legs.  She put the puffy clitoris wings between her forefinger and middle finger and squeezed her fingers together.  The pressure on her tiny bud was intense and then she started moving her hand vigorously side to side.

Betsy rolled her head back letting her long, slender neck stand out prominently.  Her breathing was very uneven and her chest heaved letting the men know that she was sexually aroused.  Whenever she got to this point, her stamina never lasted much longer.  Her right hand was a blur moving like it was possessed, as she kept the clit compressed between her two, trained fingers.  Not fully understanding what else to do, the fingers of her left hand caressed her nipples, in turn, until they felt like hard marbles.

The sound of Stan's voice made her shiver but she didn't stop.  "Spread'em baby... keep those legs spread and show us that gorgeous cunt.  Looks good.  Work that clit, honey," he said.  "Harder... harder baby, harder!

To this day Betsy didn't believe she really experienced a mind-blowing orgasm.  She wasn't able to spread her legs, as Stan ordered, because the extra pressure that her thighs put on her fingers felt extraordinarily good.  Her fingers rolled the clit back and forth rapidly and the orgasm grew to profound proportions.  Betsy heard Stan's catcalls and Ron's praises but all she felt was intense lust.

***

The last tremor had barely passed when her next dilemma unfolded.  Her eyes were still glassy from the powerful orgasm but through the haze she spied Stan lounging on a leather sofa.  He had the zipper of his pants down and he waved his engorged cock enticingly in the air.  "You're not finished... yet.  Get that gorgeous ass over here and suck some real cock," he said sending a shiver through her entire body.  "I want those sexy lips around my cock... now!"

Stan's face was stern and his steady voice gave the explicit order.  The next thing Betsy knew was that his pants were stripped and there was no way out for her.  She slowly crawled across the floor until she was near Stan's torrid body.  "That's it baby... get those beautiful lips over here.  Start sucking my cock... or else," he whispered.  Although his voice was low, it carried a firm, demanding tone.  "Ron tells me you give the best head.  Says you're absolutely the best cocksucker... anywhere!  Now prove it!"

Before she could stop the man, he pulled her torso between his splayed legs.  Stan sat on the edge of the sofa and quickly stripped her bra and soaked panties once again.  He grabbed her dainty hand and forced it to his daggling balls.  Then his hand moved like a flash and he pulled her head until she felt her face touch his menacing penis.  There was no way to pull back or get away from the cock, as Stan's hands held her head with an iron grip.

Betsy remembered swearing at the man wishing he would just get it over with.  'Shove your filthy pecker in my mouth... and get the blowjob over,' she prayed at the time.  But, no!  Stan held his raging dick around the base and slapped her face with the extended shaft.  He would shove the head into her mouth, and then pull it out and slap her face, again and again until she got mad.  Stan sensed her hostility and laughed knowing she was helpless to do anything about it.

Suddenly the fingers of his left hand locked into her hair and Stan rammed her head directly at his cock.  His steel rod didn't even bend when the flared head hit her lips like a ramrod.  All of a sudden his cock was inside her mouth and the blowjob had commenced.  

"Jeeesus... holy, sweet Jesus.  Your mouth feels hot... soooo fucking hot," Stan moaned while keeping his cock buried in her volcanic mouth.  Betsy was oblivious of what else he said and she remembered merely doing her best to bring on a swift orgasm.  Her right hand pumped the throbbing shaft without a moment's relief and Betsy even let her tongue swirl around the silvertip in whorish fashion.  Her one hand was still cupping his balls, and for a split-second, Betsy considered squeezing hard.

When the searing lava hit the back of her throat, she coughed and sputtered, but didn't let up.  She cringed and shuddered hearing his insulting remarks but she wasn't deterred.  "That's it slut... suck my cock with your slutty mouth.  Fantastic blowjob... you are the best cocksucker, just like Ronny-boy said.  Great... fucking great head... slut," Stan said keeping up a nonstop tirade.  "That's it baby... squeeze my nuts... swallow my cum, baby.  Swallow, cum-slut... and fill your belly with it.  You love drinking cum... don't you slut?"

Betsy was completely out of breath when Stan finished.  She struggled to remain upright and out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Ron.  Her boyfriend was naked below the waist and he fisted his cock in plain view.  Ron stood next to the sofa and it was more than obvious what he wanted.  "Guess what baby?  I think your boyfriend feels left out... don't you?" Stan said looking her right in the eyes.  "I want to watch... watch you give head."

And so it was, Betsy remembered, feeling much better now that this part of the chapter drew to a close.  All these years, she fretted and never managed to work up enough courage to recall what really happened that night.

***

All of a sudden the absolute worst memory came to her.  Her drastic masturbation exhibition was over; the demeaning blowjob she was forced to give Stan was over, and now the disgusting blowjob given to Ron was over.  Ron had finished defiling her for the last time, she vowed.  Her relationship with Ron was finished.  Suddenly Stan grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her across the floor to one of his perverted apparatuses.  Betsy struggled for all she was worth but Stan, with Ron's help, hogtied her onto an elaborate fucking machine.

"But you promised... you promised!"  Betsy sobbed at the same time she pleaded with the man.

"Sorry, Sweetheart... but Ronny begged me.  He wants to watch... watch his gorgeous girlfriend go through some S and M," Stan said.  "Hell, honey... so I lied.  What was I suppose to do?"

Then despite her cries and begging, Stan shoved a red ball into her mouth and secured it in place with straps around her head.  She was a picture of ravenous beauty with her eyes flared wide open and her luscious naked body stretched out in spread-eagled fashion.  All she could move was her head while Stan proceeded with his sadistic work.

When the two special, spring-loaded clamps slammed down on her already sore nipples, all she could do was slobber all over the ball in her mouth.  Then he did the same thing to her delicate clitoris and Betsy's world came to an end.

Suddenly Stan was next to her ear.  "Pease... go ahead and fight.  It's always better when the captive fights it," he whispered.  "Fuck... I bet that hurts your nipples... they look utterly fantastic... so big... so fucking hard."

Betsy remembered being totally delirious when he pulled on the strings attached to the clamps causing her more pain.  Then he grabbed her head and propped it up so she could see between her splayed legs.  "Watch this... you can watch my enormous dildo fuck your cunt," he whispered.  "Don't worry.  I oiled it up good... real good, so it can easily fuck your beautiful snatch, honey."

It was about the most horrible sight Betsy had ever witnessed.  The mechanical penis slowly moved forward until it was touching her crotch.  "Don't move, honey... I wouldn't want it to fuck your sweet ass!"

Betsy was hogtied and unable to escape.  She felt the wide head of the greased penis push against her labia, and then separate the puffy lips with ease.  Stan pushed the controls and fucked her without mercy.  Finally he let go of her head and allowed it to fall back onto the rack.  She could hardly bear to watch anymore, as the bastard fucked her with his perverted fucking machine.

Suddenly the demons of the past became much clearer and she imagined what really happened.  The last thing in the world she ever intended was to give any satisfaction to Stan.  He stood next to her and kept flicking her nipples with his fingers while keeping one hand on the control button of his fucking machine.  Then he grabbed a handful of hair and held her head absolutely still.  "Fight it, baby... fight it," Stan hissed into her ear.  "Let me be perfectly clear.  If you don't orgasm... I'll fuck your ass until you do."

Betsy thought her world had come to an end.  Surrender, which seemed unlikely moments ago, now seemed imminent.  The big dildo moved in and out of her steamy pussy and she could feel her guts churning.  Betsy couldn't open her eyes but she knew his gloating face was right in front of her.  Stan's hand gave her head a determined shake and then she let go.  The first stream of cum was thick and creamy but the rest flowed with utter unabated lust from her most inner reservoir.

***

Everything moved in dramatic slow-motion after the fucking machine.  Betsy did not want to recall each and every apparatus used by Stan, but she fully understood that he put her through Hell.  He manhandled her with the occasional assistance from Ron until she had been humiliated beyond imagination.  'Later... later,' she deemed.  'I'll go over everything he did to me... but not now.'

Betsy vowed to recall each and every piece of S&M equipment he used on her that dreadful night, but not this weekend.  'That could be another chapter of my life,' she reasoned.  Betsy considered taking a break from imagining her life story, but suddenly she remembered the end of that horrifying night.  She had endured Stan's molestation and degrading treatment for hours and it ended with him using his prized apparatus on her.

"You fought a great battle, honey... but it's over.  Once I get you tied into the last one... you'll cream like the meanest whore," Stan said sending a violent tremor up her backbone.  "This one is my baby... my Sybian will fuck your brains out.  The only way off the Sybian cock... is to climax!"

Betsy didn't know what to expect at the time but she didn't have long to find out.  Again the two men manhandled her struggling body until her arms were strapped high in the air and she was forced to sit on top of a saddle.  It was no ordinary saddle, as it had an ominous cock protruding upwards.  The cock was not big, but it was fairly pointy at the tip.  It flared out quite wide in the middle and appeared like it would readily lock inside a woman.

The two men easily forced Betsy to sit directly on the upraised dildo and she gave a loud grunt when it pierced her pussy.  Stan quickly secured a leather belt around her slender waist.  There were straps attached to the front and rear of the saddle and he locked them to the tight belt, which only allowed Betsy to move her hips the smallest amount.  She could move side ways, or front and back, but not up off the dildo.

Betsy was in a very restrained position with her legs severely bent, as she squatted on top of the saddle.  Her knees hugged the front portion of the saddle, as if she was actually riding a horse.  It was almost impossible to use her legs and the cock remained fully embedded with her swollen labia spread around the base of the thick shaft.  There were perfectly designed nubs just in front of the rubber cock, which matched the exact location of her vulnerable clitoris.

If his modified Sybian was not enough, Stan reached between her legs and attached small clamps to her labia.  He forced her to rise up slightly so he could put a clamp on each puffy lip and then he pushed her body down onto the saddle again.  Amazingly the clamps seemed to pry her labia apart and the cleverly designed clitoris nubs pressed directly onto her throbbing control button.  Betsy wished there had been immense pain associated with the experience but sadly she remembered nothing but gratification.

Stan had retrieved the red ball used earlier and he shrewdly locked it in her mouth.  Betsy felt like a tramp, as slobber and spit started running down her chin.  The trails of wet saliva dripped onto her chest giving her the most desirable appearance to Stan and Ron.  To this day, Betsy remembered crying when she felt the power surge through the rubber prick.  She suddenly realized it was electronic and the cock started rotating and moving inside her delicate inner chamber.

Stan set the control at level one and let it work slowly at first.  Just when Betsy was getting used to the speed and motion, he turned it up a notch.  She felt the immediate increase in intensity and tried to use her legs to alleviate some of the pressure.  Suddenly she realized the saddle itself was vibrating and that seemed to put extreme pressure on her clitoris.

Her arms were outstretched held securely by the straps and her legs quickly got too tired of holding her weight.  The combination of the rotating dildo, the labia clamps, the rubber clit nubs, which bounced wildly with the vibrating saddle, and the fact she was hogtied took a toll on her determination.  When the first tremor roared through her belly, Betsy reasoned it was merely a tiny setback.

Then Stan increased the tempo another notch and she began to wonder.  Suddenly he turned the switch up once more and Betsy realized her dilemma was getting worse.  Completely out of the blue, Stan abruptly attached the dreaded nipple clamps again.  Her body went out of control.  She screamed, or tried to.  The ball prevented anything but a river of saliva to come out of her mouth.  Betsy rocked and thrust on the pulsating cock not knowing what else to do.

Suddenly Stan was right behind her, holding her head cradled firmly in his hands.  "Keep fighting... I love it when a woman fights," he whispered.  His tongued lashed out licking the side of her burning face.  "It's a lot worse when you fight... let it go and show Ronny that his girlfriend's a slut."

All of a sudden Betsy readied herself for the worst moment of her life, which was coming alive in her weekend daydream.  The orgasm approached so fast it slammed her in the guts.  Her body went into convulsions and her hips rocked back and forth, and up and down on the rubber cock.  She swore the thing throbbed and pulsated like crazy and her mind succumbed to the raging lust.  Nothing had ever pounded into her precious clitoris like the rough nubs every time her body slammed down on the Sybian saddle.

Stan kept his lips next to her ear.  "Fight... fight it, baby," he whispered before slapping her bare ass a few times, as it bounced up and down.  "Dear Lord... baby, I think you're doing it.  You're cumming!"

It was impossible to yell at the man.  The spit ran from her mouth like a river and the lust took over her disillusioned mind.  Tears mixed with saliva and Stan knew she was experiencing a mind-blowing orgasm.  "Let it go... let go baby... be my sweet-ass bitch."

All Betsy wanted was the ability to scream at the man she hated most in the world.  She desperately wanted to hold out but that was impossible.  The spasms destroyed every ounce of resolve in her distraught mind, as the orgasm of a lifetime rolled through the stratosphere.  She saw the bright lights of Mars, and then Venus, and then Utopia, as the explosions went off in her throbbing head.  Betsy had never experienced an orgasm so powerful or so earth-shattering and every sensation in her body was fully alive.

Betsy was aware that Ron was recording everything but she couldn't stop.  Her body jerked and thrust hard at the embedded cock and Betsy felt the cream leak from her inner being.  As the final spasms robbed her sanity, Betsy was relieved that her most feared demon was finally exposed.  Time lost all sense and meaning, as the hellish orgasm took forever to subside.  When Betsy eventually stopped her violent contortions, she collapsed on top of the soaked saddle, dangling from her upraised arms.

Stan made sure everything was captured with his movie camera.  He had ordered Ron to record the most fantastic climax, which Stan planned adding to his extensive library.  Betsy's lustrous body jerked and gyrated until the end when Ron zoomed in on the sudden wetness running down the sides of the leather saddle.  When Stan voiced his great pleasure to the wild boyfriend, Betsy was only vaguely aware of what he said.

Betsy could not remember being more grateful when Stan unhooked her from his SM machine and removed the clamps and gag.  She was nothing more than a battered rag doll when the hated man fucked her even though she displayed no emotion or willingness.  He treated her like a piece of meat but she was beyond caring.  Betsy reasoned it was merely one last thing she had to endure before Stan allowed her to leave his dungeon.  Thankfully there was no more pain and agony.

***The end of the relationship

Ron was already dressed and ready to depart when Stan was finished screwing Betsy.  Sex with Ron's boss was the last straw for Betsy.  Suddenly she remembered.  It took days for her body to stop hurting from the abuse that Ron's boss put her through.  Betsy rubbed her wrists thinking about how hard she struggled that night.  There were no permanent scars but her wrists were badly bruised during the bondage.  The bastard used every hole she possessed, not once but many times before she was allowed to leave.

A swift pang of anxiety shot through her inner regions with the realization that this chapter of her life was finally over.  She could now put everything that happened during her relationship with Ron behind her.  The demons, which haunted her all these years, were put to rest now that she had relived her experiences.

She told Ron it was over during the ride home from that horrible affair.  'Gawd,' she thought at the time, 'I don't know how to breakup with anyone.'  All of her life, Betsy was the one trying hard to be accepted and she never had to break off a friendship.  Betsy reasoned that if she worked hard enough, she could make any relationship work.

But this was different, she deduced!  Luckily for her, Ron must have been getting bored with her, which made it easier.  Also he was finding it increasingly harder to explain his mysterious absences to his wife so the breakup came much easier than Betsy expected.

Ron drove and the trip to Betsy's home was quiet until she told him it was over.  She didn't even get the chance to explain her reasons before he spoke.  What he said surprised her even to this day.  "It's time.  You're a beautiful, sexy woman and you deserve better.  I don't know how things got so carried away... but I just go crazy watching you make love.  You've been fantastic, baby, just fantastic!  You know... maybe I'll give you a call in a few months.  But then, again... maybe not. "

Betsy lay on the bed in her spare bedroom relieved that she could now move on.  Suddenly she was okay with everything that happened.  Guys like Ron were never happy and could never satisfy their insatiable appetite for control, she reasoned.  Ron controlled the most beautiful woman in his paltry life, yet he was never satisfied.

It was time to get up for some fresh air and Betsy stretched until she was fully back in the real world.  She assumed that everyone had chapters in their life, which they regretted, and the chapters with Ron were hers.  With a sheepish, devilish grin on her pretty face, Betsy wondered if she should hunt the bastard down and cut off his balls.

THE END
I will continue Betsy's weekend in another chapter.  I promised her that I would write about her first 39 years and then we can fantasize about the future.  I hope readers don't find this type of flashback too confusing but I wanted Betsy to think about all the things that happened in her life before turning 40.  Betsy is probably the most appealing woman I know, and strangely, I am not sure if she is not the wittiest, smartest woman... or the craziest.

Please send me your feedback, as I always appreciate readers who take the time to write.