A Bestiary of Unnatural Women (11 page)

She pulled at the handcuffs, but could not
reach anything that she might use to relieve some of the
weight.

She whimpered as the pain increased
rapidly.

She kicked her legs against the straps that
restrained them and had to muffle a scream. Even the slightest
movement of her legs added to the pressure against the most
sensitive parts of her anatomy and multiplied her pain

“How long?” she asked though gritted
teeth.

Trevor glanced carelessly at his watch. “A
few minutes. I don’t know. I didn’t bother timing you.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“We’ll chat about that soon, but not right
away. I don’t think you’re quite ready yet.”

“I’m ready. I’ll say anything,” she gasped.
“Just tell me what to say.”

“We’ll talk when I get back.”

“No!” she shouted at his back as he walked
out of the room. “Don’t leave me. Please.” Her voice dropped to a
whine. “Please stay with me. Please.”

Her pleading was wasted. He was already
gone.

The pain in her crotch rose to a level of
intensity that she had never imagined; her clit was a button of
pure white-hot agony by the time he returned.

“How long?” She had to struggle to speak.

He shrugged. “A few more minutes. Do you want
to talk now?”

“Yes. Please let me talk. What do you want me
to say?”

He sat down on the couch and looked up at
her. “I want you to be honest. I want you to tell me a secret. A
true secret. Something that you have never told anyone else.”

“Oh, God. I don’t know. I can’t think. This
thing is killing me. Please. Ask me something specific. Any
question. I’ll answer. Ask me how I lost my virginity. I’ll tell
you that,” she offered.

“That’s not a secret,” he scoffed. “You let
your first boyfriend do you after the Christmas formal during your
senior year of high school. You already told me that.”

“I didn’t tell you any details.”

“You would have told me the details if I’d
asked. I wouldn’t have had to torture you for that. I want to know
something that’s really secret. Something that you’re ashamed of.
It has to be something that would horrify you if I passed it on to
anyone else.”

“I can’t think of anything like that.”

“I can wait until you do.” He picked up a
book and began flipping through the pages.

She began to cry. Tears slowly welled over
her lower lids and soon began trickling down her cheeks. “This
hurts so much. I can’t stand it any more. Please let me go. Please.
I’m begging you. I’ll give you a blowjob. I’ll spend the rest of
the night giving you one blowjob after another. Please.”

He looked up from the book. “I’d like a
blowjob all right. But I’m not letting you down until you tell me
your most shameful secret.”

She pulled ineffectively at her handcuffs.
“Please.”

“Your secret.” His demand was not
negotiable.

“Okay. Okay.” She shut her eyes tight and
said, quickly, “I got V.D. once. Syphilis. I was in my third year
of university and I’d gone to a party with a guy I didn’t know very
well.” She groaned in pain and paused, before continuing. “I was
seeing some guy, Brent, casually, but never made him any promises
so I told myself that it was all right to go out with other guys
once in a while. Richard was this handsome dude that I’d seen
around.” She whimpered and paused again to gather enough strength
to continue. “I wasn’t all that hot looking so I never thought that
he’d noticed me until, out of the blue, he asked me to go to a
party with him. I found out later that he was telling his buddies
that he was going to make love to every girl in Weber’s seminar on
the Sociology of Human Sexuality so I was just another item on his
shopping list. Anyway, I didn’t know that when he asked me out. I
thought maybe he was entranced by my sparkling personality.” She
grimaced through her pain, an attempt at a smile. Brave girl. “Oh,
God, this hurts. Anyway, to make a long story short, I was
flattered and pleased to go to a party with such a hunk on my arm.
He didn’t have much of an approach to seduction. I think his exact
words were, ‘Want to get it on?’ and I figured that I owed him some
consideration so I let him fuck me in the back seat of his car
after we left the party. He was a lousy lover. Two weeks later, he
called and told me that he’d just been diagnosed with the syph so
he was calling all the girls that he’d fucked recently and telling
them to get checked. Sure enough, I was one of the lucky
recipients. I couldn’t have sex for a couple of weeks while I took
the antibiotics. And that was that. I’ve never told anyone before
because it makes me feel so dirty. So please, please let me down
from here.”

He looked at the tears that were flowing
freely down her cheeks.

“There’s more. I want to hear the whole
story.”

“No. I don’t have any more secrets like that.
Nothing nearly as bad. I told you what you asked. Please let me
down.”

“Not until I hear the whole story. What’s the
rest of it?”

“Please. There is no more.”

“Yes, there is,” he cajoled. “Come on now.
You’ve got most of it out. Give me the last little bit. The part
that you’re really ashamed to tell me. Get that off your chest and
you’ll feel a lot better. I want to stop the pain as much as you
do, so just come clean and let me release you.”

“No. Please unlock me.”

“Yes. Come on.”

“I can’t.”

“Let me know when you can.” He picked up the
book and began leafing through it again.

She tried to rock backward to take some of
the pressure off her clitoris, but only succeeded in hurting her
rectum more. She groaned pitiably.

“I didn’t tell him,” she shouted.

“What?” Trevor looked up from the book.

“I didn’t tell Brent. As soon as I was
diagnosed with the syphilis, I was so ashamed that I called Brent
and told him that I couldn’t go out with him any more. I didn’t
tell him why. He wasn’t that upset, we both knew that we weren’t in
love with each other. But I felt like such a slut, going out with
someone else behind his back and getting infected with a venereal
disease that I chickened out and never told him that I had the
syph. That I might have given it to him, too. I was a total coward
and, for all I know, he might have got it from me and never got it
diagnosed and died of it. Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I should have told
him. I should have had more guts. I’m so sorry.” Tears were flowing
freely down her cheeks and dripping off her chin.

“Where is he now?”

“Brent? I don’t know. I never spoke to him
again. That was four years ago. He could be anywhere. Please let me
down. I’ve done what you asked. I’ve told you the most terrible
thing that I ever did. Please. The pain is terrible.” She was
sobbing so loudly that she could barely get the words out.

“I’ll let you down as soon as you make me a
promise.”

“Anything. Whatever you want. I want to give
you a blowjob. Okay? It’ll be great. Let me down and I’ll give you
the best blowjob ever.”

“No. That’s not it. You have to promise me
that you’ll find Brent and tell him the story that you just told
me.”

“What?” she shrieked.

“You heard me. You’ll find Brent and you’ll
confess and you’ll make sure that he got proper treatment and
you’ll ask him to forgive you.”

“I can’t do that,” she howled.

“Then I can’t let you down.”

“Please. Have mercy on me. Please.”

“Have mercy on Brent. Find him and tell him
everything.”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll tell him
everything. I’ll make it right.”

“And you’ll record the phone call and play it
for me.”

There was a long pause while Cindy’s sobs
filled the room. “Okay. I’ll record the call.”

“Good. I’ll find out how to patch a recorder
into your phone. You can try to find his number, but don’t make the
call until I’ve got the equipment set up.”

“Okay.”

He walked to the rear of the horse and
plucked the handcuff key off the hook.

As soon as her hands were unlocked, she
pushed herself off the saddle as best as she could and held herself
up while he unbuckled her legs and lowered the stirrup.

She spent the next half hour naked, curled up
on the sofa with her head pressed to his chest, soaking his shirt
with her tears.

He liked that even better than getting a
blowjob.

The next day, Trevor found a device at Radio
Shack that fit between the phone and the wall socket and would
record calls to her computer. He showed her the device and
explained how to use it. He had her start recording all her calls
just to make certain that it was working properly, but let her
erase them without asking to listen to them. There was only one
call that he needed to hear.

He waited for three days before asking her if
she had found her former lover, Brent.

She said that she had been unable to find
him.

“Please mount the horse.”

She began whimpering immediately. “Please,
no. I’ll try harder. Give me another chance to find him.
Please.”

He was implacable. He waited silently while
she undressed, buckled the handcuff belt about her waist, and
climbed into the saddle. She began crying almost immediately. “I’m
still sore from the last time. I need time for the bruises to
heal,” she sniffled.

“It’s supposed to hurt,” he replied, coldly.
“What’s Brent’s last name?”

“Kovacks.” She spelled it out and he wrote it
down.

“How old is he? Where did he live before
university? What was his major?” He spent a few minutes soliciting
as much information from her as he needed. She sobbed her answers
to his questions, one at a time.

Finally, he said, “I’ll be back.”

She suffered agony, straddling the horse
while listening him clicking on her computer in the spare
bedroom.

To her, subjectively, it fell like hours
passed, but it was only six minutes on his watch when he returned
with a piece of paper in his hand. “You didn’t try very hard to
find him. His number’s listed on 411.com. There’s only one ‘Brent
Kovaks’ in the state and he’s living in your Brent’s hometown so,
unless he’s named after his father, it’s got to be him.”

“Okay. I’ll call him like you want. Let me
down. Please.”

“First, tell me the truth. Did you try
looking for him? Did you even type his name into Google?”

She moaned. “I was going to do it today. I’ve
been busy. I’ve been meeting with my thesis supervisor every day
this week. I’ve got to get my proposal done by the end of the month
and he’s not giving me much help.”

“While I’ve been waiting for you all week,
you didn’t even try to do what you promised,” he stated flatly.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled. “I’ll be better
from now on.”

“You sure will. And just to make sure that
you remember to keep your promises, you’re going to ride that horse
for another twenty minutes.”

“No!” she shrieked. “I can’t last that long.
I’m in agony.”

“Next time, you can save yourself a lot of
pain by doing what you promise promptly.” He looked at his watch,
and then said, “I’ll let you down at four twenty-five. That’s a
promise and I keep my promises.”

“You bastard!” she screamed.

“Oh, dear. You shouldn’t have said that. I
don’t like to be insulted. For that, you’re going to ride your
horse for another twenty minutes again tomorrow evening.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Please. Have
mercy. I’m in agony. A person doesn’t mean what they say when
they’re hurting this badly.”

He shrugged. “I’m not hurting, so I do mean
what I say. Tomorrow you’ll take another twenty-minute ride. I just
hope you learn your lesson. From now on, if you can’t say something
nice to me, keep your mouth shut.”

For the next twenty minutes, he tried to
ignore her sobs while he read a little Kafka.

When he finally let her off the horse, she
fell to her knees and clutched at her poor tortured pussy with her
hands.

The next day, every time she looked at the
horse standing in her living room, she moaned in fear of the pain
that was coming. At seven o’clock, Trevor ordered her to mount her
horse. He would never understand the courage that was required for
her to comply. But comply she did. She was writing a proposal for a
thesis on the effects of public debate about torture on social
norms and allowing herself to be tortured was giving her insights
that she would get in no other way.

Her entire crotch was already bruised from
the previous day’s mistreatment. It was so tender that she began
screaming as soon as she put her weight on the saddle.

Twenty minutes later, her entire chest was
soaked with her tears.

Even after the stirrup was lowered, Trevor
had to help her put her dismount; she did not want to move even the
little bit that would be required to push her foot into the stirrup
and shift her weight onto it.

Again, she fell to her knees, clutching her
crotch.

Trevor said, “I’d like a blowjob now. Will
you give me one voluntarily or do I have to put you back in the
saddle to get one?”

She whimpered and scrambled to service him
before he made good on his threat.

He was already as hard as hickory and came in
her mouth in record time.

Torture definitely had an upside.

“Brent? This is Cindy Crouse.” Her voice
echoed from the computer speakers and Trevor nodded in
satisfaction.

“Cindy?” the strange man’s voice replied.
“God, it’s been years since we spoke. How are you?” He sounded
happy to hear her.

“I’ve been fine. How about you?”

“Couldn’t be better. I’ve been selling home
and auto insurance since graduation. It’s a good job. How about
you?”

“I went to graduate school. I’m about halfway
through my doctoral program.”