A Bestiary of Unnatural Women (10 page)

“Nope. Like you said, that’s too easy. I
could get you to agree to that even if you weren’t hurting much. I
want something a lot more interesting than that.”

“What do you want?”

“I’ll tell you what I want. I want two
blowjobs.”

“Okay, two blowjobs. One today and one
tomorrow.”

Suddenly he got an idea. “If you want, but
there’s a hitch. You stay naked until I get the second one. Naked
and your hands stay cuffed behind your back. You only get to use
your mouth to arouse me. No hands. And I’m going to be playing with
your tits until my second coming. So you can take as long as you
want to give me the second B.J. but I’m betting that you’ll want to
get me aroused again as quickly as you can.”

“What if I don’t agree?”

He was about to say,
Then you stay right
where you are until you do
, but recalled that she had once told
him that she needed an incentive to try to hold out as long as
possible. He had to give her some hope that she would be released
eventually without consenting. “Then you stay there for another
hour.”

“An hour?”

“That’s right. It’s seven thirty now. If you
can hold out until eight thirty, then I’ll let you go free without
getting my blowjobs.”

“I can do that,” she said, defiantly.

“Then go ahead and sit there,” he replied.
But he hoped that she would cave. He had his heart set on feeling
her lips encircling his shaft tonight.

As the minutes passed, her moans turned to
whimpers. She rocked back to shift the pressure off her perineum
and onto her anus. She remained in that position for a few minutes,
then rocked forward onto her vulva to shift the pressure again.
That only lasted for less than a minute before her eyes began to
water and her whimpers increased in frequency. Trevor thought that
it was a silly idea to protect her less tender parts by shifting
the pain to her most tender parts.

“How much longer?” she gasped.

“A long time,” he replied, glancing at his
watch. “Time passes really slowly when you’re suffering. You’ve
barely begun.”

“You bastard.” She tried to snarl, but all
she could manage was a pathetic grimace.

His heart went out to her, but his cock
really wanted to feel her tongue and lips.

After a few more minutes, she said, “One
blowjob. I’ll give you one blowjob and then let you play with my
tits until you get bored with them if you let me down now.”

“I’m not negotiating. You’ve heard my terms.
Agree to them. Just as a favor to me. Okay? Two blowjobs and tit
play with the handcuffs on.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I can’t take
this any more.”

“Then you’ll do it?”

“I’ll do it without the handcuffs. Keeping
them on is too much like coercion. Take the handcuffs off and I’ll
give you both blowjobs with my hands clasped behind my back and
I’ll keep my hands below my waist voluntarily any time you’re
playing with my tits. It’ll be the same as if my hands were still
cuffed.”

“Okay. If you can do that, then that’s good
enough.”

“I can. I promise. Let me down. Please.
Please let me suck your cock now.” She sounded like she was
begging.

He was surprised to realize that he liked
hearing her beg to suck his cock. He liked it a lot.

As soon as she was standing on the floor
again with her hands freed, she grabbed his wrist and looked at his
watch. “You bastard!” she screamed. “It’s eight-thirty. You said
that I’d barely started but I was up there for the full hour.”

He shrugged and grinned, “You expect that
your torturer is going to tell you the truth? Don’t be naïve.
Besides, it’s only eight twenty-eight. I would have let you down at
eight-thirty like I promised.” His voice turned hard. “But it’s
only eight twenty-eight so now you have to do what you promised.”
He pushed gently on her shoulders and she sank to her knees in
submission.

As soon as his pants had fallen to his
ankles, he said, “No hands, remember?”

She obediently clasped her hands behind her
back and went to work on him.

It was good for him. Both times.

And he loved playing with her tits during the
two-hour interlude. He cupped them, massaged them, kissed them all
over, and then caressed them some more. She had wonderful tits, not
too big, but full and round. She never before let him play with
them for as long as he wanted, but now, she kept her hands in her
lap and arched her back to present them for his use, keeping with
the spirit of her promise.

There were wonderful rewards for being a
torturer.

As soon as Cindy came into the living room,
she saw that the horse was missing. Though Trevor had not made her
mount it since getting dual blowjobs the previous week, it had
become a persistent feature of her world. Whenever she was in the
apartment with him, she was constantly anticipating him asking her
to mount up and was slightly disappointed when he did not torture
her, day after day. They were making love as often as ever – she
did not want to deny him regular sex just to force him to punish
her – but she had presumed that he would want something extra,
something distasteful to her, more often than this.

The last time that he had forced her onto the
horse, she had suffered more than she expected. Her crotch had been
tender for two days afterward. She felt a pang of fear when she
thought about being forced astride the wedge again. But a pang of
fear was insufficient for her purposes. She wanted to feel absolute
dread every time she saw the thing. She wanted to feel like
suffering was imminent and inevitable all the time.

She had begun thinking that, if he were not
going to force her to do something distasteful more often than once
every couple of weeks, she might have to pull a Lysistrata maneuver
and refuse to have any kind of sex unless he forced her onto the
horse and made her submit to his will. She did not want to have to
take that step, mostly because she liked making love to Trevor and
would not be willing to endure much torture to avoid it. She wanted
him to force her to do things that she would really hate to have to
do.

Now, though, it looked like she would have
little choice. The disappearance of the horse was a certain sign
that things were going in the wrong direction. It looked like he
had not only decided to stop torturing her altogether, but had
decided to remove any reminder of it from her life.

This was intolerable.

When Trevor came home from his semiotics
seminar, she asked, with no small degree of anger, “Where’s my
Spanish horse?”

“Oh, that. You noticed that I took it away,
eh?”

“Yes, I noticed. What do you think you’re
doing?”

“I think that I’m making a modification to
it. I figured out a way to make it a lot more effective.”

That was an answer that she had not expected.
“More effective?”

“Yeah. I got to thinking about how you were
sitting on it last time and realized that I could make it hurt you
more by adding a minor improvement.”

Now she had a new reason for concern. “What
would hurt me more? It hurt like hell before. What are you doing to
it?” She had visions of a knife-edge, spikes, electricity. “I don’t
want to be permanently injured, you know.”

“Do you trust me?”

She paused for a long time. That was the
question. Did she trust him? Really trust him? Not just trust him
to treat her properly, but trust him to not make a mistake through
ignorance or negligence? She looked at his face. He looked worried.
It was as important to him as to her that she trust him. If he was
that worried about being trusted, then he was going to be careful
that he kept her trust. “Yes, I trust you.”

“Good. I think that you’re going to be
pleased with the new accessory that I’m making.”

She smiled, “Then I guess I’m safe from
torture for the next few days.”

“Not for long. Enjoy your relative safety
while you can because, in a couple of days, you’re going to be
pining for this brief respite.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He sounded like he meant it.

She was happy to make love to him that night
without coercion.

The following afternoon, he was waiting for
her when she returned from the library. The horse was back in the
middle of the living room, but now had a vertical piece of wood,
almost an inch thick, rising from the center of the top edge. The
piece of wood had a deep semicircle cut from it that it barely
cleared the top edge of the wedge at the lowest point but extended
about four inches higher, front and back.

“I added a saddle to your horse,” he
grinned.

“I see,” she replied. She did see. When she
was perched astride the horse, she would not be sitting on the edge
at one point. Rather, her entire crotch from her mons pubis to the
top of her ass crack would be settled into the semicircle so that
her weight would be resting equally on every part of her crotch,
from her clitoris to her rectum. The vertical board was braced with
triangular pieces front and back so that it would support her
weight without breaking, no matter how hard she pushed sideways
against it.

“It’s going to require some adjustment.
Unlike the general-purpose medieval device, this one will be custom
fitted to you. So, if you’ll kindly remove your jeans and panties
and climb aboard, we’ll get started.”

While she was doing as she was told, Trevor
brought two chairs from the kitchen and placed one on each side of
the horse. She was instructed to stand on the chairs and squat down
carefully into the semicircle, but not try to put her entire weight
on it.

When she squatted down, she found that she
could not settle into it because her pubic bone and tail bone were
pressing against the front and back before her perineum was
anywhere near the bottom.

Trevor took a thick carpenter’s pencil from
his shirt pocket and made marks on the wood, front and back. “Okay.
Hop off. No sense getting dressed, I’ll be back in a couple of
minutes.

After she dismounted, he lifted the ‘saddle’
off the horse. He had not actually modified the horse itself, but
had manufactured a kind of cap that fit over the top. When the
‘saddle’ was removed, the original wedge remained. He carried the
saddle into the spare bedroom and she heard his saber saw burring
loudly.

For the next two hours, he kept repeating the
process, making her climb astride the saddle and gingerly lower
herself into it while he marked the places she first began pressing
against the wood as she settled down. No man had ever examined
every inch of her crotch with such meticulous care and she felt a
blush of humiliation every time his face drew near. She hoped that
she was clean down there. He was only satisfied when she finally
lowered herself into position and could feel every part of her
crotch touching the wood, from high in the front to high in the
back, with equal pressure. By that time, her legs were aching from
the exercise.

Even then, he warned her against resting her
full weight on it. “The edges are sharp and splintery. Getting
splinters is not supposed to be part of your torture. I’ll have
that fixed by tomorrow night. Then we’ll give this thing a serious
test drive.”

She quailed slightly at the word serious.
Even though she had not yet let her full weight rest in the saddle,
she could already tell that it was going to be a worse experience
than she had yet suffered.

The next evening, she looked at the completed
saddle with a mixture of curiosity and fear that tied her stomach
into a hard knot. It was lovely to look at. The wood had been
shaped and sanded so that the edge against her crotch had about the
same radius as her little finger. As well, the maple had been oiled
and its prominent grain gleamed like a piece of fine furniture. But
it was also humiliating to look at because she knew that the
irregular curve was a perfect representation of the shape of the
most intimate part of her body. In the curve, she could recognize
the base of her mons pubis, her vulva, perineum, and anal crease
with a slight bump for her rectum, extending right up to the end of
her coccyx.

If a stranger looked at it, would they know
what they were seeing?

“We have some things to discuss. Please mount
the horse.” Trevor’s voice was soft, but unyielding.

She realized that he would have been looking
forward to this moment all the time he was planning, building,
adjusting, and finishing the ‘saddle’. He must have something
specific in mind for her.

She stripped off her jeans, tee shirt, and
underwear, buckled the handcuff belt around her waist, stepped in
the stirrup, swung her leg over the saddle, and, for the first
time, settled her full weight into it.

Her first impression was that it was not as
bad as she had feared. In fact, because her weight was distributed
over a much larger length, it barely hurt at all compared to her
previous experience on the horse. She confidently buckled the
straps about her legs – that was a little more difficult now
because she had considerably less freedom of movement – and then
pulled the reigns until the weight of the stirrup cleared the bar
and was snatched up out of reach.

About the time she finished clicking her
second wrist into its handcuff, she realized that her first
impression about the saddle being less painful than riding the
wedge bareback was wrong. It only took a minute for the saddle to
begin working on her. Under the inexorable pressure of her own
weight, the curve of the saddle edge was pushing hard into her
pussy; her labia were being crushed against her legs. Worse, a
significant amount of her weight was resting directly on her
clitoris and she could not shift her position even a millimeter to
get relief.

At the other end, the slight bump that was
pushing against her asshole now felt like a tiny relentless fist.
It was not so much a feeling of penetration – it was not large
enough to actually penetrate – as a feeling of inexorable pressure
such as might be caused by severe constipation.