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From: no body <barabas62@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Revenge House
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Date: Thu, 11 Apr 2013 11:10:02 -0400
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This is an adult story and should only be read by those who qualify as such
under their local laws.    This story is a collaboration.  I always thought
collaborations would be relatively easy.  They are not necessarily so. 
Carolyne, emailed me and asked if I could edit a story for her.  She said
she like my stories and wanted me to proofread and edit her story.  The
story was jumpy and sketchy, about 6 1/2 pages.  Then she asked if I could
suggest some things, add somethings, without changing the kernal of her
story.  The story has gone through a number of revisions and rewrites.  And
here it is.  It is a bit more brutal - darker - than my stories.  Carolyne
told me parts of it are based on real incidents.  I never asked which and
she never volunteered.  Any way she is now satisfied with the story and has
asked me to post it.  So here it is.

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<1st attachment, "Revenge House.doc" begin>

Revenge House

Prologue

Mark Davison was the man   the big man on campus, the quarterback
of the football team, the star forward on the basketball team. He
was tall, blonde, and ruggedly handsome, with a boyish face. He
was the vice president of Z House. He could have his pick of any
co-ed on campus; and for dating he did. He was very noticeable
around town with those he dated publically. But for sport he was
choosier. His selection process very narrowly defined. His scout
absolutely trusted.

For sport he went out of town. He might still be recognized, but
not very often. He knew better than to mess up his own nest. If
he was recognized, he would be good and back away. It pissed him
off when he had to, but he would back away. And he had to do so.
Too much was riding on his future. But not tonight. Tonight he
was Ronnie.

And Ronnie had picked up a plaything for the evening. She didn't
realize it, but she was. She was seventeen, almost eighteen she
insisted, and was innocent. If he had asked central casting for
an innocent sweet milk-fed blonde farm girl, he couldn't have
done better. She was a little rounded on the edges, but had a
very nice body under that slight layer of baby fat. Big bouncy
breasts, ice blue eyes and a pert little nose, dusted with light
freckles. She was on the short side, but had very shapely legs
and a cute little round butt.

She wasn't the homecoming queen, or even one of the princesses,
at her high school. She was someone guys might fantasize about,
but was not asked out much. But for his sport she was perfect. He
smiled at her as he brought back her Coke, laced with ruffie and
something he'd lifted from the psych lab. Soon she would be
giving up the goodies and then some.

Becky looked up at him and couldn't believe her luck. He was so
cute and shy. He said he was moving to town and transferring into
her high school. He had blushed when he asked her if she wanted
to go somewhere and get a Coke. He had opened her car door. He
was such a gentleman. And no one else knew about him yet. All the
other girls would be so jealous. 

But she was starting to feel like a cold, or the flu, was coming
on. Not really dizzy, just ... she wasn't sure. But she sure
didn't want to spoil this evening. He was just so nice. And no
curfew tonight, her parents were out of town for the weekend and
she was left at home alone. Her parents trusted her. And he
wouldn't try anything; he was too nice.

"Becky, are you OK? You look a little woozy." Ronnie asked her,
his voice full of concern. "Here drink this Coke; it might settle
your stomach or something."

"Thanks." She took the Coke and drank it down. "I am feeling a
bit off, maybe the flu or something."

"Maybe you should go home. I'll follow you just to make sure you
make it home alright. Or I'll drive you and you can get your car
tomorrow."

"No, I can drive. But it would be nice if you could follow just
in case."

"Let's go, I'll be right behind you." They left the picnic table
in the park. No one had seen them together. Hell, Ronnie thought,
no one had seen him at all.

********

When Becky awoke the next morning she hurt all over. And she had
a headache. She had had a headache before, but certainly not like
this one. Her mouth tasted awful and her body was sore. Not sore
like physical work sore. Her vagina hurt, her anus hurt, every
square inch of her hurt. What had she done? She couldn't
remember. Through slitted eyes she looked around her room. It was
her room. But she didn't even remember getting home. The last
thing she remembered was being at the park.

Then she saw a CD leaning against her computer and a note. How
did they get there? She crawled out of bed and immediately sat
back down. God, it hurt to try to walk. She reached over and
plucked the note up and read the typed words.

<Becky

You are probably a little sore this morning. You fucked like a
bunny last night AND it was your first time. I couldn't believe
my luck. Three cherries in one night. I should call you my little
Cherry Pie. But once you started, you sure begged for it. I loved
the way you bounced up and down on my dick with those bells
clamped to your nipples. You sounded like Christmas with all the
jingling. That was maybe the hottest. And the way you pushed back
while I was fucking your ass, making sure my dick was all the way
in. And the way you turned those big baby blues up at me while
you sucked my cock and swallowed me. But since you probably don't
remember too well this morning, I made a little video for you.
Watch the CD, you were a real star. And if you tell anybody about
this, you'll be able to find it on the Internet, along with
everyone else in the world. The whole world will know what a slut
you are. Wish we could do this again. You'll always be my little
Cherry Pie.>

Becky just stared at the note, tears running down her cheeks. Why
couldn't she remember? She knew she went to the park and then ...
Nothing. She just couldn't remember. Moving mechanically she
picked up the disc and put it in her computer. And watched.
Everything in note was true. There was no doubt that was her, but
she couldn't remember. She watched herself beg him to fuck her,
gobble his cock and suck all his juices down. Begged him to fuck
her ass. Squat over his cock, bells attached by clamps to her
nipples, playing with herself   legs shaking   begging him to let
her bounce on his cock. Please. Please. Please. Lowering herself
down on him. Bouncing ...

She made it to the bathroom before she threw up. She lay on the
cold tiles and listened to more debauchery on the CD. Threw up
until nothing else would come up. Cried. Then she promised
herself no one would ever know. She'd destroy the disc or hide
it. She'd burn the note. Never mention it again. Her body would
heal. She would put this behind her.

Forty miles away, Mark Davison watched his copy of the CD, slowly
stroking his cock. She might have been the best ever. When he was
done, he returned the disc to its jewel case and added it to his
collection. That made twenty. He was the man. And he'd have to
find a way to thank Sandy, his cousin. She was the best scout;
always found the perfect targets for him. And she gave great
blowjobs.

The Present Day

Part One
The Visit

Becky jumped when she heard the knock at her door even though she
was expecting someone. It was just that almost no one ever
knocked on her door and she liked it that way. She looked through
the security peephole and saw a striking woman looking directly
at her. She was holding up her ID. Becky opened the door.

"I'm Camille; we talked briefly on the phone." She looked Becky
straight in the eyes. Becky took her in very quickly. She was
tall, statuesque even, with honey blonde hair. But Becky was
drawn to her eyes. Her eyes were smoky grey and very intense.

Becky stepped back and gestured, "Please come in. Can I get you
something to drink? I've got some tea or I could make coffee."

"Coffee would be nice. We have a lot to talk about tonight,"
Camille said softly as she walked into the living room, "And
Becky, it is going to be hard for you, but you're doing the right
thing."

"Yes," Becky replied softly. "Let me go get the coffee." And she
left the room.

Becky was as she had been described to Camille. Medium height,
attractive, but appeared 'mousey.' Her clothes were loose, hiding
the real shape of her body. There was a timid air about her. But,
Camille agreed with this, there was also a spark of defiance. It
was buried deep. What would Becky become if that spark were
allowed of flame up?

'Moving like a zombie,' Camille thought. She turned, taking in
the room. Standard complex apartment. It was tidy, neat as she'd
expected. She had done her homework on Becky. Graduated high
school and college with a business degree. Good job, but she
wasn't going to move up very far if something wasn't done. She
was competent and showed great aptitude and understanding, but
didn't seem to have enough drive. She didn't make friends, didn't
date at all. Not interested in men or women it seemed. No social
life at all   not now or in college or high school.

As she prowled the room she glanced at the bookcase   mostly
romance novels. The DVD titles were mostly chick flicks   heavy
on romance. A few self help books. Family pictures. She'd bet her
bed was covered with stuffed toys. She turned when she heard
Becky returning. She was carrying a tray with a carafe of coffee
and two cups and saucers. She set them on the coffee table and
sat on the edge of the sofa.

As she started to pour the coffee Becky started. "Oh I forgot to
ask, do you want cream or sugar?" Camille motioned her back.

"Black is fine." Camille took the cup and sipped. "Very nice
coffee." She waited until Becky had taken up her cup before going
on. "I want to thank you for seeing me like this. I know this
must all seem overly dramatic to you, but I assure you it is
necessary."

"That's what Dr. Ormond said. She also said I should trust you
completely."

"And I understand that is very hard for you. I've been working
with Dr. Ormond for some time now and she believes that we can
help each other. But you will need to be honest with me. And I
know that can be painful. It was painful for me and there is no
way I can spare you some pain. Did she explain that to you?"

"Yes." Becky's reply was almost a whisper. She was staring into
her coffee as if the answer to all life's problems were hidden
there. "She said that you'd had a similar ... problem, similar to
mine." Her cheeks flushed and Camille could see tears brimming in
her eyes and spilling down her face.

"Becky, look at me." When Becky's face came up, Camille's eyes,
so intense earlier were filled with sympathy and kindness. "Dr.
Ormond didn't go into any details about what happened to you. But
she said I may be able to help you deal with it. I dealt with it
by drinking. Then I was picked up DUI for the third time and went
before an amazing judge. She put me on probation, mandatory AA,
and referred me to a therapist, who later referred me to Dr.
Ormond. I think that judge saved my life."

Becky had risen and was slowly pacing around the room. Camille
followed her with her eyes. "You have chosen a slightly less
destructive way of dealing with it, but not less damaging." Becky
flinched slightly. "You've withdrawn. You have walled yourself
off from other people, your job, your future, your life."

Camille rose and went to stand behind Becky, who was staring into
the middle distance. She laid a hand on the young woman's
shoulder, "I want to help you if you'll let me." Becky turned and
buried her face in the tall woman's shoulder. And she sobbed, her
whole body shaking. Camille just held her until she was finally
cried out.

"I'm sorry," Becky said as they returned to the living room.
Camille had taken the girl to the bathroom and washed her face
with cold water. Becky was surprised at how tender this woman
was. She looked so intense.

"You have no reason to be sorry. You are purging the poison in
your system and we'll both probably do more of that together."
Camille led her to the couch and they sat. "I want to tell you my
story now. I've never told anyone, except Dr. Ormond, all the
details. And that took months for me to do. But I want to tell
you."

"When I was a junior in high school, I met a boy in a park one
evening. We talked and had cokes. He was tall and blonde   I
think he was very good looking, but I'm not sure. I don't
remember anything until the next morning. I woke up sick and my
whole body ached. Almost like I'd been beaten, but there were no
marks on my body. There was a note and a video cassette. The note
was from the guy I'd met. He had raped me repeated through the
night. I wasn't a virgin, but he had me doing things I would
never have done. He raped me everywhere. His note gloated about
it. And he had filmed it and left me a copy. It was very graphic.
I was sick and then angry. I watched the tape, but you couldn't
see him in the tape anywhere. I smashed the videotape to pieces
and burned it with the note." Camille paused, her eyes
glistening, "And started drinking. It made the pain go away.
Outwardly I was the same, but inside I was eaten up with shame
and drinking was the only thing that made it go away."

Becky looked as if she'd been struck. Her eyes were wide and her
mouth open. "That is my story. That's what happened to me. Except
I kept the note and the CD he left for me."

Camille's eyes flashed, "You still have them?"

"Yes."

"I need to see it ... them." Camille's tone was empathetic, her
voice harsh. Becky was staring down at the floor, cheeks flaming
with embarrassment and shame. She wouldn't make eye contact.
Camille backed off, "Becky honey, not now. But at some time I
will need to see them and for a very good reason. Sit here a
minute."

Camille left the room and came back with a glass of water. She
handed it to Becky and told her to sip it. Then she sat by her
and draped an arm around her shoulder and held to close.

Her voice soft now, she went on. "Honey, I've got a lot to tell
you and afterwards I'll ask you if I may see the note and view
the CD. That is your decision and I will abide by your decision."
She paused to let that sink in. "I've been tracking down this
bastard for the last few years. Dr Ormond helped me piece some of
the blanks ... the random images ... back together. I still don't
remember all of that night and I'm not sure that I want to. But I
believe I've tracked him down. And you are the eighteenth person
I've found, that I've talked to, who he did this to. You are the
only one who held on to the video and letter he left."

Camille held tightly to Becky as the young woman stiffened and
relaxed. She held her when Becky started crying again; she kissed
the top of her head and patted her back, like a mother with a
newborn. Soon she settled down and Camille went on.

"I've identified more, quite a few more. Some won't talk about
it, some can't. Some I haven't been in contact with."

"What do you mean can't?"

"They are dead. One car wreck and five suicides. One suicide just
weeks after the abuse."

"My God, NO!"

"No is right; and God wasn't there." They were silent for a long
time. "Anyway, I ran into someone I think is him. He didn't
recognize me at all. I didn't recognize him; in fact I still
don't know, but I might be able to know after I see the CD.
That's why I have to see it."

"If it's him, what are you going to do? Have him arrested and use
my CD as evidence." There was a tinge of fear in Becky's voice.

"Not exactly, but I need to see the video first. Then I can
explain." Camille hugged her shoulders. "Becky, honey, I don't
mean to come off as all mysterious, but I really can't get into
it in more detail right this minute."

Becky straightened and rose from the couch. "I'll be back in a
minute."

But she was gone a little longer than that. Five minutes later
she returned to the living room carrying her laptop. She first
crossed over and pulled the drapes closed, then walked up to
Camille. Laying the laptop on the coffee table, she said flatly,
"The CD is loaded and ready to go." She started to sit by the
other woman.

"Becky, you don't have to watch. Why don't you go to bedroom and
I'll come and get you?"

"No. I can watch it. I do every so often   trying to see
something. Hoping something will come back. Something I can use,
but ... he's big, blonde, and gorgeous. That all I remember." She
reached past Camille and brought up the video and played it.

They watched it together in silence. Camille reached out to hold
Becky's hand as reassurance for both of them. When it was done,
Camille hit pause. She had tears running down her face. "Becky,
do you have something stronger than coffee to drink?"

Becky sniffled. "Um, I have some wine. I'll need to open it."

"Good, open it and pour a couple of glasses. And don't hurry
back; I need to check a couple of spots on this video." 

Becky stood and left, heading for the kitchen. As she busied
herself with the wine   opening the bottle, getting glasses   she
could hear Camille clicking keys on the laptop. Then she heard
the laptop close. She picked up the glasses and the bottle and
returned to the living room.

"Well?"

Camille took a deep breath and sighed. "It's him. The bastard,
it's him." She took the glass of wine Becky held out to her. "I
wish I could have come last night. We could have gotten this disc
into a safety deposit box today. But the banks are closed on
Saturdays, so we'll have to wait until Monday."

"No we won't; my branch is open on Saturday mornings. I can put
it back in my box tomorrow. Now tell me what you saw. Please."
She blinked away the tears still in her eyes. "And what are you
going to do about it. You know   the mystery plan."

"A little background first. After my encounter with him, I burned
the tape and the note. And I went into a deep depression. My
folks are divorced and I was living with my mother. It turns out
she was raped as a young girl and recognized the signs and after
years of my drinking finally got me into therapy with the judge's
help. The woman was very good and very gentle." Camille paused
sipping her wine. Taking a deep breath she went on, "Anyway about
a year into seeing her, the story came out. In one long sobbing
sentence."

Becky watched as Camille rose to her feet and started pacing.
"The therapist didn't say anything for a long time and when I
looked up she had tears in her eyes. She said, 'You poor dear.'
And she reached out a hand to me. She just held me while I cried.
Then she told me there were three things she wanted to do   for
me to do. She wanted to call in my mother and have me tell her
what happened. I fought that one for a while."

She stopped pacing and came out of her trance. "Could I get a
little more wine?" Becky rose and poured more wine in her glass.
As Becky returned to her seat, Camille faced her and went on.

"But I gave in and we called Mom in. I went through it again and
we all cried some more. Then she said the second thing she wanted
was for me to enroll at a local kung fu school. Not a self
defense class but really study a martial art. Then she said that
she had met another therapist, Dr Ormond, who had encountered
women with similar stories, as both patients and as referrals.
For the last few years she and others had been networking and
getting the women to see Dr O. And you are the latest to go see
Dr O."

"And Dr O asked me to meet with you. She sent you to see me."
Becky wasn't asking questions. She was surprised at her own
voice. It was low, but the timidity wasn't there.

"Yes," Camille said flatly. Her eyes were glistening, but as flat
as here voice. "Yes, she sent me to see you. I needed to see your
disc. I've remembered more about him than anyone and after I
thought I saw him, Dr O asked you to see me."

"Now what?"

Camille looked at Becky a long time. "Now what indeed." She moved
to Becky's side and sat beside her. "First and most important,
how do you feel?"

Becky shrugged, "I'm OK, I guess. Maybe a little wrung out, but
I've learned to cope."

Camille smiled at her over her wine glass, "And what would Dr O
say to that answer."

Becky glared at the other woman for a minute, then the tears
flowed, but she had a little smile. "Bullshit! She'd say it was
bullshit."

Setting her wineglass on the table, Camille wrapped the young
woman in her arms and held her while the tears flowed. Becky was
sobbing now, shaking and sobbing. Camille gently rocked her and
let her cry herself out. There was no rush, they had all night.
'Hell,' she thought, 'we've got all weekend.'

The racking sobs slowed and were finally replaced by sniffles and
Becky sat back and looked at Camille with red eyes and a tear
streaked face. "Thank you. I didn't realize I had that much
bottled up in me. Dr O said I did and that at the right time it
would come out. I was holding it as a kind of protection."

"She told me the same thing."

"OK. Now back to my question   what now. I mean I've had a great
cry, but is that it? Time to get on with my life. Isn't that what
all the talk shows say?" Becky looked angry and her chin jutted
up with defiance.

"In a way, yes. But we have an awful lot more to discuss and we
are both wiped out. I think tomorrow morning would be better, but
I have a question to ask you. And I want you to know that while
part of the reason for asking is about my concern for you, maybe
even mostly; it is also selfish   for me." The two women stared
at each other for just a moment before Camille rushed on. "May I
stay here with you tonight?"

"I'm not a lesbian and ..." Becky flashed in anger. She stopped
and took a deep breath, "I'm sorry, I just ..."

Camille interrupted, "No that's OK. I probably shouldn't have
blurted it out quite so quickly. What I meant was that we have
both been through an emotion upheaval tonight and probably
shouldn't be alone   either of us. Even though I am bi, sex
wasn't rearing its ugly head. The selfish part was I want to hold
and be held and feel safe. I just want some comfort tonight. And
if I can return that comfort, even better."

Becky stared into Camille's eyes for a long moment, rose and
offered her hand. "Let's go to bed, I'm exhausted." As the two
women headed down the hall, Becky asked, "Would you like a
nightgown? My one vice now is silk nightgowns."

Camille laughed and squeezed her hand.

********

Becky woke slowly, coming out of a very deep dreamless sleep. She
had a vague sensation of another body holding her, of arms around
her, the feel of breasts flattened against her back. She sat up
with a start and looked, but the bed was empty. Then she smelled
bacon and coffee and her mouth watered. She slipped out of bed,
saw Camille's clothes piled on the floor by the foot of the bed,
and hurried into the kitchen.

"Morning, sleepyhead. Want some coffee? Breakfast should be ready
soon. Couldn't have been happier than when I found your waffle
maker." Camille glanced over her shoulder.

Becky took the woman in and she looked very good in Becky's
nightgown. It just barely covered her ass and made her long
strong legs look even longer. She laughed, "Maybe if I woke up to
this sight every morning I could become a lesbian," then flushed
crimson. "I can't believe I just said that."

"Grab some coffee," Camille laughed. "Get ready for breakfast.
Then it's to your bank and back here for a whole lot of talking.
Even as cute as you look right now, the remote possibility of sex
is way down the line. It's not even on the longest 'to-do' list.
Now get a move on."

Two hours later   after breakfast, showers and a trip to the bank
  they sat down at Becky's dinette table. With coffee, they
looked at each other for a few minutes in silence. Camille
watched Becky for a sign that the spark she had seen buried deep
in the woman's soul was ready to ignite.

"Okay Camille, what now? You didn't answer me last night and it's
now morning. So ..." The question just hung in the air between
them. And Camille saw the spark glow and grow.

"I'll try to explain, but there will be questions for you along
the way. The first one is do you want revenge or justice?"

"Aren't they the same? Shouldn't we just turn everything over to
the police?"

"The answer to your first question is not necessarily. 'Legal'
justice, involving the police, lawyers and the courts would
involve making public what has happened to many women. Some of
them would not go along with that scenario. And don't forget his
threat; he could make the video of you public on the Internet.
And even if he were convicted, would a little jail time be
revenge? Is there a statute of limitations involved? Would
someone in the police leak the details and your name? These are
all things you need to consider."

"But ..."

"Remember I said 'not necessarily.'" Camille looked into the
young woman's slightly confused eyes. "The other seventeen women
I've talked to have all agreed that they want revenge and that,
to them, would be justice. We have all kept in contact as we
searched for proof. We have been a loose support group for each
other. I am the only one, beside Dr O, who actually knows and has
talked to them all." Camille sipped her coffee, watching Becky
over the rim of her cup. "You have provided us proof. Me, anyway,
and I am ready to act. Dr O has warned me against being too hasty
in my pursuit. And she told me not to push you either. That is
why I have been slow in answering your questions."

"What you're saying is that you want revenge." It was not a
question. "And you want my, what, my blessing? You want me to
enlist in a vendetta? Become a vigilante?"

"To cut to the chase, yes," Camille smiled as she answered.
"Becky, I've been observing you for the past couple of weeks  
from a distance. Last night I saw a young woman who was scarred;
a woman who is timid and in hiding. There was a spark of fire in
you, tamped down, but waiting. It just flared and was beautiful
to watch."

"Thank you," sarcasm dripped from Becky's reply. "I'm glad you
enjoyed my temper, but you still haven't answered my question."

"You're right, I haven't." Camille's eyes turn hard. "We, the
other women, want revenge. We want to do to him what he did to
us. But more we want him to be aware of what is happening to him.
Some of us want to be involved in the process and some don't, but
are willing to help in other ways. A plan is in place and we have
him under surveillance. We just needed proof that it is him. You
provided proof. Do you want in?"

Becky was stunned by Camille's sudden hardness and bluntness. She
rose from the table, "Give me a few minutes." And she left the
room.

Camille waited. She sipped her coffee and fought to control her
anger. Dr O was right; she really needed to work on that. She
waited, poured more coffee, and waited some more. She got up and
went looking for Becky. She found her sitting on the floor of the
living room. She was sitting with her knee under her chin, arms
around them, rocking gently. Camille could see tear tracks
running down her cheeks. She gently embraced the young woman.

"Sorry, I need to work on my temper. Guess that wasn't much of a
sales pitch was it?" She heard what she took as a sob; felt Becky
tremble in her arms. Then Becky threw her head back and laughed
out loud.

"God, that felt good." Becky inhaled and exhaled deeply.
"Camille, sometimes I wake up from a dream where I am exacting
revenge. My heart races and I'm sweating." She paused for another
deep breath. "I haven't had any sex life. I can't because of him.
I want one   I would like to have a man in my life, someone who
wants to share with me. But I can't. Not until this nightmare is
behind me. If you researched me so well, you know I'm smart. I've
thought about that night my whole life. And one question kept
coming up. Why did he pick me? I don't believe in fate or
coincidence. I think he knew I would be at the park and that my
parents would be out of town."

"Why did he pick any of us? That question haunts us all. A couple
members of our core group, if you will, have been researching the
guy I found. Just in case he was our guy. But they've come up
mostly empty. One of them called me, just before I came over
here, with a possible connection, but we're not sure yet."
Camille paused and studied Becky closely. "We're coming up to a
point where I've got to know what you think you want. And how far
you are willing to go to achieve it."

"What do you mean?"

"The women involved fall into two groups. One group doesn't want
anything to do with what happens personally, but are willing to
provide assistance. Money in most cases. The other group, the
core group, wants to be part of the execution of our plan."

"Execution! Are you going to kill him?"

"No, though it was discussed. No we're going to make him wish he
was dead. And he's going to talk. He will tell us how we were
selected and who did it. We think it was a woman. That was the
phone call I told you about. But much of what we're going to do
is illegal and we won't involve anyone without them fully
understanding that."

Becky again saw the fierceness in Camille's eyes. But she wasn't
afraid for herself. She knew she needed to do something. If
Camille hadn't approached her, she might easily become one of the
suicides. Her life had been a slow death since she woke up sore
and found the note and CD.

"Camille, I need to be part of this, and not from the background.
He made my life a living death and he has to pay. I want my life
back and he is going to have to give it to me. What do you want
me to do?"

"I want you to understand something. We are going to kidnap him
and sexually abuse him   for a long time. He will be tortured. He
will be whipped. And when we find whoever helped him, they will
be in for the same treatment. And we will film their degradation
for a souvenir. Most everything is in place. We have a remote
location and all the equipment we need."

"When do we start?"

"Slow down. It will take a few weeks to set everything up. And I
have something else to ask you. It's not directly connected to
this, but sorta is."

"What?"

"How do you like your job? Both what you do and who you do it
for."

Becky suddenly felt like a balloon that had been pricked with a
pin. The life suddenly and slowly leaked out. The reality of her
life set in. Camille watched this and waited. Becky picked up her
coffee cup and sipped; the coffee was now cold and bitter.

Finally she mumbled, without making eye contact, "I like what I
do, mostly. I could do a lot more and improve a lot of the way
things are done in the office. But I'm not going anywhere. The
company is OK, but I think they are going to have some problems
in a few years. Why?"

"Did you sign a no-compete contract when you joined them?"

"No, I wasn't asked to. Everyone else in the department did. The
head man in HR said I would never think of leaving, so why
bother. He said I was just a 'mousey little thing' who would
never go far or be attractive enough or close enough to the top
to try to lure away."

Camille smiled at this and Becky just caught the smile. Anger
flared in her face.

"What, you think that's funny. You think ..."

Camille raised her hands, palm out, "Whoa, whoa, whoa ... yes I
think it is funny. Your company's main competition has been
watching you for over a year. It is owned and run by a member of
the group. She was about to make overtures to you and try to lure
you away. She didn't know you were one of us. Only Dr O and I
knew that, and Dr O had just told me. You will be approached,
probably Monday after I make a call."

Becky stared at her as if she had just been beamed down from the
Enterprise. She might have even been less surprised if Kirk and
Spock joined them in her apartment. She wanted to say something,
but her voice didn't seem to work.

Camille was smiling again, "You see, I work for the company as
well. It would be in a different department from the one you
would be running, but the same company. The woman who owns it is
one of the background people in our group. She has provided a
location for our venture and bought much of the equipment. And
she will give me and you, if you work for her, six weeks off to
accomplish our little surprise."

Camille frowned at the coffee cups, "The coffee has become
horrible and I know it's a bit early, but would you like a glass
of wine?"

Becky sat in stunned silence and nodded.

"Good, I could sure use some. Why don't you take these things out
to the kitchen and fetch some wine and glasses. I've got to make
a call. I'll be on your balcony; meet you in the living room."
And with that Camille walked away, headed for the balcony and
pulling out her cell phone.

Becky did as she was told. From the kitchen she could just make
out Camille's voice. 'What is happening to me,' she wondered over
and over as she washed out their cups, and open the wine. She
grabbed two wine glasses and headed for her living room. As she
set everything on the coffee table Camille walked in holding out
her cell phone. "Someone wishes to speak to you. I'll take care
of the wine."

Part Two
The Beginning

Becky had just come home from her new job. It was Wednesday of
her second week. She had taken her two weeks of earned vacation
at her old company and turned in her two week notice the first
day. No one had even asked where she was going. They might not
even notice she was gone.

Camille told her to take the first week off.  They went shopping
for clothes. Her new employer wanted her to look like a manager
when she came on board. So Camille, who had pointed out to Becky
her clothes were a little "dowdy," took charge of helping her
select her new wardrobe.  Becky felt like she was on that TV show
where all your clothes were thrown out and you got new ones. And
Camille said it would be from the skin out. New lingerie,
dresses, suits, and casual wear. New shoes. New cut and style. A
new woman emerged.

And she joined a spa with Camille as her personal trainer. She
had done some exercise before, so the process wasn't as bad a
Camille feared. Becky found out after her second spa workout that
Camille could also give a mean massage. They had just come home
when Becky said, "God, all I want is an hour or two in a hot
shower. I ache all over."

"Absolutely not," Camille used her trainer voice, "Strip and lie
face down on your bed. I'll be right in." Since she'd lost so
many arguments during the shopping expeditions, she figured she'd
lose this one as well and so she just did as she was told.

Camille came in and told her, "Arms down at your sides. Here ..."
she adjusted the pillow under Becky's head, "... there that's
better. Now just relax." A bottle snapped open then closed. "Let
me just warm up this oil a little ..."

And Camille's hands slid over her back and shoulders. As she
worked the muscles in Becky's back and shoulders Becky thought
that she had died and gone to heaven. And her body relaxed. She
gave herself over to the sensations of hands on her body. She
luxuriated in the feeling; not consciously aware that this was
practically the first time someone else's hands had a free reign
of her body since the night she had been attacked.

Now she was working again. She and Camille had discussed the
changes she was experiencing. The touching and being touched, the
intimacy she had denied herself all these years. She was thinking
about this when her cell phone chirped.

"Hello."

"Hi Becky, it's Camille. I tried to catch you before you left the
office, but you had gone by the time I got off the phone.
Everything is in place. The conference will start Sunday and we
need to get together with the rest of the presentation group to
finalize everything. We thought maybe a dinner meeting at
Waterfront at about 7:30. Can you get away tonight?"

"I can meet you there. Casual, OK? I just took off my office
armor and would hate to have to put more on."

Camille laughed, "I'm going to be casual. Want me to swing by and
pick you up? It isn't out of my way and if I do we can talk on
the way back."

"Great. See you at seven?"

"I'll be there." And they both clicked off

********

They arrived a few minutes early and headed straight for one of
the small private dining rooms in the back of the restaurant. Two
women Becky didn't know were already there. She did notice that
they were all about the same age. The two women stood as Camille
and Becky entered.

"Hello, I'm Maggie," said the first woman to reach them. She was
a little taller than Becky. Her face was long and oval and her
hair was a straight black bob. As Becky shook her outstretched
hand she saw that her eyes were grey as granite and looked just
as hard. Her body was thin, but not from just diet. Becky could
see she was well muscled. And her muscles were lean and sinewy,
obviously not from lifting weights.

"Hi, you must be Becky; I'm Maggie too," said the second woman.
She was short, more rounded, much as Becky had been in high
school. Her reddish hair, green eyes and fair skin just screamed
"Irish." Her voice was softer, gentler than the first Maggie.
"But I go by Meg. Makes it less confusing."

As they were sitting down the last of their group rushed in.
"Sorry, traffic was unbearable." She was also tall and fit,
probably from light exercise and diet. Her hair was auburn, thick
and swinging around her shoulders; and she was the oldest in the
room. Becky needed no introduction; she was now working for this
woman. But hadn't Camille said she wouldn't be involved.

"Becky, you look a little perplexed. Work on that when your doing
company business," the woman smiled. "Camille told you I wouldn't
be involved with the presentation, but she probably didn't tell
you that I'm the one who financed and planned most of it." She
glanced at Camille with a half smile, "At least she better not
have."

"Oh no, she didn't," Becky quickly said in Camille's defense.

The woman waved her hand, brushing away the reply, "No matter. I
took the liberty of ordering dinner in advance and it should be
here in a few minutes. We'll talk after the wait staff has left.
Help yourselves to wine."

Glasses were filled, sipped. Nods all around. Then, "Since you
all work for me, you all have the next four weeks off with pay.
The cover story will be a training retreat, which isn't too far
from the truth." There followed a bit of chit chat, office talk
between the "girls" as the wait staff entered with dinner. They
withdrew.

After they started eating she said, "You all have been doing
research on both our target and toys and methods to pay him back,
with the exception of Becky here. And you all know what will be
done during our presentation to the visitor." She turned to
Becky, "Camille will fill you in on the details later."

"I have arranged for our visitor to quit his job. He will send an
email, from his laptop. He is about to be fired and he can't
figure out why. But no one will miss him." She smiled a very evil
smile at them. "He will go out drinking Saturday night. We know
from watching what bar he will go to. It will be the second bar
he uses; the one he uses for serious drinking and not to troll
for women. We will have a bartender there to handle his drink."

She paused and sipped some wine as she stared hard at Becky.
Becky wanted to look away, but held the older woman's gaze.
"Becky, this will be your part of the plan. You will go in and
entice him out."

Becky was stunned. "Me?" She was suddenly feeling queasy.

"Yes you would be best for this part of the program. We have
pieced together the way he worked. Dr O did. He would meet
someone and give them a doctored Coke. The victim would feel
sickly and he would offer to drive or follow them home.  Make
sure they got home alright. By the time he and the victim were
there, she wouldn't remember anything that had happened."

There were nods around the table and pictures of that night
flashed through Becky's mind. A boy bringing her a Coke,
headlights following her home.

"Dr O believes he used a combination of a 'date rape' drug,
Rohypnol, and something else. She's not sure, but he may well
tell us. Anyway, our bartender will be feeding him small amounts
of a similar drug mixture. Our mixture will also make him
susceptible to suggestion. You will enter the bar, sit by him,
and he'll offer to by you a drink. You say thank you and after a
sip ask him if he is alright. He doesn't look well. You'll be all
concerned. Walk him to his car or offer him a ride, it doesn't
matter. We will have vans by both cars. We'll grab him and drive
him away. That part will be over in twenty seconds."

Again she stared at Becky. "Can you do that?"

Becky frowned a little, "I think so, but what about the cars? And
what if he recognizes me?"

"He won't. First, you look different than you did. You've grown
up, slimmed down a bit. You have a new hair style. And don't
forget, we will have started drugging him by then." She smiled
and the smile was complete. "We have someone to take his car back
to his condo and, since we have his keys, we'll go in and search
the place. We'll find his little video disc collection. We'll
search every byte of his computer. We may even download a new
history. When we're finished we'll know everything we need to
know."

"How about the person he was working with? Camille and I
discussed it; he had to be working with someone," Becky pushed.
It even surprised her a little that she did.

"You're becoming as aggressive as I thought you would," she
smiled and held up her hand to Becky. "I have a little surprise
for you all tonight. I think we found her."

Four heads all snapped toward her. "Her? A woman did this to
us?"

"Yes, a cousin. They spent a lot of time together in their early
teens. Alone. Became very close, you might say. A couple of their
teachers wondered, but ..." She let that hang. "We're not
positive, but this woman was in the area where each of you lived,
just before you were abused." 

She had opened her bag and pulled out a printout with six images
on it. They were all pictures of the same woman. Slightly
different looks and ages, but they were all the same woman. She
passed the printout to the four women who studied it closely.
Maggie with the red hair spoke first.

"I remember her; she was a substitute teacher at my school." She
closed her eyes remembering. "An English teacher. She was there
for just a couple of weeks. She was really friendly, especially
with the girls."

"Yeah," said black haired Maggie, "But it was science I think.
Not English I know that."

"Phys Ed," both Camille and Becky said at once. Becky went on,
"Yeah, Phys Ed; she spent a lot of time talking to a couple of
us."

The group sat puzzling the past. Becky's brow furrowed.

"The marginal girls   that's what she called us. I overheard her
talking to one of the other teachers. She said something about
how beautiful we were. The other teacher, Mrs. Beecham, I think,
asked her who was marginal. She said we, she gave our names, were
the marginal girls. She said that we were beautiful and smart,
but none of the other students seemed to notice us. She said that
was too bad. Mrs. Beecham agreed. Then she said she was sure
someone would notice at least one of us soon."

"She was fucking scouting us for him," Camille's voice was sharp
and hard as steel. "I'd love some time with that bitch."

"You'll have time with both," the older woman smiled at Camille.
It was not a pleasant smile at all. Then she turned her gazed to
Becky. "But we need to have him first. He'll be the 'weak
sister,' if you'll pardon the phrase. Can you do it?"

Becky didn't hesitate, "Yes."

"I have always believed you could. Now let's go over the
details."

********

Mark Davison watched a pretty blonde come through the door and
look around the bar. It wasn't too crowded, but there weren't too
many empty seats. 'I'd love to get some of that,' he thought as
he nodded to the bartender for another drink. He was feeling his
first drink already, something he wasn't used to, but it wasn't
an unpleasant feeling. He watched in the mirror behind the bar as
the woman made up her mind and headed toward the bar. She took a
stool two over from him as the bartender set his drink in front
of him and picked up some bills from the pile he'd left on the
bar.

"I'll have a white wine," he heard the woman say. As the
bartender started by him, he pushed some bills toward her and
said, "On me."

The blonde turned and seemed to notice him for the first time.
"Why thank you." She did a little butt hop to the stool next to
him, "Thank was very kind. I'm Rebecca," she said offering her
hand.

He took it gently in his, "It's my pleasure. Call me Ronnie." He
wasn't such a regular at this bar that anyboy'd notice if they
went out. He could get the drugs in her quickly. Wine was good
cover. But he suddenly felt like he had the flu.

As she sipped her wine the blonde looked over the rim of her
glass at him, "Tell you what; I'll get the next round. It's only
fair." When she smiled, the smile didn't reach her eyes, but he
didn't notice. The glitter there was not from good humor. She
nodded at the bartender who brought him a new drink. "Just put
that on my tab, honey," she purred, as the bartender walked
away.

Mark fought to clear his vision. "Whew, maybe I don't ..." But
what ever he was going to say just didn't come out.

"You look like you've had a hard week at work. Come on, bottoms
up. That will make you feel better, I'm sure." Her voice was
silky in his ear. She leaned close and he could smell her
perfume. Her voice was hot breath on his ear, "I don't want a man
who can't handle a third drink. Bottom's up; then let's get out
of here."

"Sure, good idea." Mark slurred his reply. And drained his last
drink.

She was off her stool and beside him, "Let's go out the back
door, it's closer." She steered him towards the back door. He
didn't notice another woman trailing with his jacket and
briefcase.

As they pushed the door open and walked into the alley he said,
"I'm not sure I'm safe to drive."

She guided him to the right, past a cargo van with its side door
open. "Oh, don't worry, we've thought of everything."

His mind focused on the word 'we' but got no further. Hands
grabbed him and pulled him into the van. In his drugged state he
could offer no resistance and passed out before they could begin
tying him up.

********

"DNA. Even though we'll make sure he's 'clean' when we get rid of
him, we want to be safe and not leave any DNA." Camille was
pulling on a tight hood over her head as she answered Becky's
question.

Becky looked at the other three women. They were all dressed the
same. They wore black body suits and hoods which covered their
heads and the top half of their faces, only their mouths and
chins were visible. Even their hair was covered. "We look like
characters in a low budget science fiction movie; or maybe a
video game for some 12 year old boy's wet dream. I mean look at
us."

"That asshole in there is gonna see nightmare figures, not
something out of a wet dream," one of the Maggies said. "And with
the low light he won't ever be able to tell how many of us there
really are."

"Sounds like he is coming around," said the other Maggie. "You've
seen the equipment and know how to work it. Guess it's time to
start." She walked out of the room and toward the back room of
the house.

The house was situated on seventy five acres of mostly woodland,
about an hour from anywhere. The large stone gateway and wrought
iron gate were electronically locked and under constant video
surveillance. It was secluded and secure and not connected on
paper to any of them. It appeared to have three wings, but was
really a two story house and the two wings, attached by enclosed
walkways, were large open rooms. And they were each soundproofed,
but there was audio and video feeds throughout the house.

As the women dressed, Camille had received a message. "She will
arrive very late tonight. She should hear him tomorrow morning.
I'm sure he will name her by then."

As she snapped the phone closed, a woman neither she nor Becky
knew walked in. The woman was wearing a similar body suit and
held her hand out to Camille, who shook it, and then to Becky.
"I'm Andrea. I have our boy prepped. He didn't enjoy it much, but
he'll live." She smiled at this, but it wasn't a very nice smile.
"I've done my part. He's had three enemas, one soapy, one rinse
and a very large ice enema just because he deserved it. That's
the one he really didn't enjoy."

Andrea turned to go, stopped and added, "Oh, and he's been shaved
and lubed. He's all yours." And she left.

"Who was that," Becky asked.

"I would say another victim probably. Guess we had one more
volunteer than I realized, Camille answered. Then she smiled,
"Well ladies, it is show time," and strode from the room.

********

As they all entered the room, Becky looked around. It was a large
room with a row of cabinets by the door. The cabinets were
covered with items Camille had shown her on adult bondage and
equipment sites on the Internet. Most she could recognize, some
were foreign to her, as was their use. In the middle of the room
was the man who had called himself "Ronnie." He was tied to a saw
horse looking contraption. His feet were separated by some kind
of bar and each tied to a leg of the saw horse. His hands were
bound together behind him and attached to a rope hanging from
pulleys suspended from the ceiling. This caused him to be bent
over the sawhorse with his ass facing them.

His head came up a bit when they entered. "Who's there? Please
help me."

Camille walked around in front of him, "Who helped you?" He tried
to look up and see her, but could only see her feet and lower
legs.

"What do you mean? I don't know what you mean. Help me, please,"
he begged.

"It's Ronnie, right?"

"Yeah," he answered quickly. Then he looked puzzled, "Yeah, I go
by Ronnie. Why are you doing this?"

"Ronnie, just answer the question. Who helped you all those
years?"

Fear flashed across his face. He was sweating and the sweat was
mingling with the tears that had started running down his face.
"I don't know what you mean. Please help me, I don't understa
..."

His answer ended in a howl of pain. Someone he couldn't see had
whipped something across his upturned ass. The howl was abruptly
cut off as a gag was shoved into his mouth. Straps wrapped around
his head and were buckled. Pain shot through him and he jerked
against his restraints as someone whipped him again. Behind him
Becky and the shorter Megan were alternating blows with wide
leather straps.

Camille's voice remained calm and almost soothing, "Sorry Mark,
but you lied twice and failed to answer my question. We're going
to let you think about it overnight. And we have some
motivational tools which will help you. While I put all of that
together, we are going to help you generate some heat. We
wouldn't want your ass to get cold tonight." And with that she
walked around him and out of sight.

Becky and Megan continued strapping his ass. For novices they
were actually doing a very good job. Though the blows may have
crisscrossed, they never repeated on the same area. The bound man
continued to howl, but the sound was muffled by the gag. As tears
streaked his face, he saw from the corner of his eye a cart being
wheeled in front of him. His eyes bulged and his struggles
increased. He was so terrified at what he saw that he almost
forgot the beating he was taking. The black clad woman in front
of him raised a hand and the beating stopped. But he was focused
on the cart and what lay on it.

Camille calmly said, "You might recognize some of these items. I
have reason to believe you are quite familiar with them. Others,
you might not recognize or have firsthand knowledge of, so I'll
just explain what each is." Her voice was that of schoolteacher
with an exceptionally slow student and her hand swept over the
items like a model on a game show. "These little items probably
won't turn up on a Google search of 'motivational tools,' but I
think by tomorrow morning you will agree that they do work."

"Everyone knows that the real way to a man's heart is through his
Willie; or in your case, your little Willie." She gestured to a
cock cage lying on the cart. "And we're not particularly
interested in your heart, so we want to take that distraction out
of the equation."

She picked up the cock cage and advanced. As she squatted to put
it on him, she looked him square in the eyes, "This should do the
trick nicely." Never dropping her gaze she snicked to lock in
place. "There that is a good beginning, don't you agree?" She
gently cupped his balls, her face close and her breath hot,
teasing him. And ignoring his muffled complaints, she moved back
to the cart.

She smiled as she watched him struggle and noticed that the hot
breath across his balls had worked. His formerly flaccid penis
was trying to swell, but was prevented by the cock cage. 'Nicely
done,' she thought and gave herself a little pat on the back.

"I see little Willie is trying to grow, so I guess I was just in
time. But I have one more thing to help you stay focused on our
questions," the woman in black paused and picked up some sort
tube and held it in front of Mark's face. "If we put some space
between your ball and your little dick, they won't come into play
at all. And with this we can move them in and out of harm's way,
so to speak."

Again Camille approached the bound man. She made eye contact like
before, while pulling his balls down and slipping on the ball
stretcher. It was long enough that it took her a bit of time, but
finally his balls were pulled well away from his body. He thought
they were being pulled off and sobs of pain racked his body. His
mind was a jumble of pain and confusion. Camille stroked the
inside of his thighs and nodded to Becky, who walked away to the
table in the back of the room. She soon returned with a wooden
paddle.

Camille continued to stroke the man's inner thigh and crooned
softly, "See I can pull this forward and your balls are out of
harm's way." At the verbal cue, Becky swung the paddle with all
her might and it landed across both checks.

The fiery pain shot through the man's system. Four more swats
followed the first; left cheek, right cheek, top of both thighs,
and finally, both cheeks with an up swing. His ass was burning
and, to Becky's satisfaction, glowing wonderfully.

Camille had never stopped stroking his inner thigh, "Or I can
push this way," and pushed his ball back so the stuck out just a
bit. Becky took a little off the swing but connected solidly.
Mark thought the top of his head would explode; his body tried to
curl in a fetal position, but he was held in place by his
restraints.

Still stroking his thigh, Camille whispered, "You don't seem to
be as focused as you need to be, so I'm going to let you rest a
few minutes before we go on." She stood and walked away, leaving
Mark trussed up and alone with his pain. His muffled screams
followed her as she joined the others in the small room off to
the side.

"Ahhh, that was fun," Camille said as she joined the other
three.

"Yeah, but you're having most of it," Maggie said, with a pout
pushing out her lower lip. Then she started to giggle, "Wish I
could have held that pout for just a little longer."

As the women laughed Camille said, "You're up next," and looking
Meg, "while you get to use the flogger. You should be able to
flick his balls with it on 'errant' strokes. Now let's let him
stew and take a little break."

Over a glass of wine, they went over the next stage of the plans
and listen to his cries of torment. Eventually the sounds
subsided. They finished their wine and headed into the big room.
"Hope he isn't dead yet," one of them said.

This time Camille and Becky hung back to watch as the two Maggies
approached the man. Even from where they were standing, they
could see the fear as he trembled at the sound of approaching
footsteps.

Maggie stopped beside him and softly stroked his cheek, "Poor
baby. I know this must not be comfortable, but since you lied to
me twice ..." She let the sentence trail off as she stepped
toward the cart. As she reached for something lying flat on the
cart, Meg started on his ass with the flogger.

Mark watched the woman step to the cart and, as she reached for
something, his ass exploded into fire again. Someone was working
him over with something. It felt like a bunch of whips at once,
and his body stiffened. His brain couldn't process his thoughts;
he was just too immersed in the pain. The he saw what she was
holding and his eyes bulged.

"Ah, I see you recognize these," Maggie chirped. "And you are
absolutely right. They are Japanese butterfly nipple clamps. See,
these even have little grippers to help keep them in place." She
reached out and toyed with his right nipple. "After all, we
wouldn't want them to work loose during the night would we?" She
was now squeezing and rolling his nipple very hard between her
fingers.

She pulled his nipple down and aligned the clamp, and then let it
snap shut on him. Meg who had been systematically flogging his
ass, left, right, left, right, picked that very moment for a
straight down stroke with her flogger. It made a snapping sound
as it connected with his balls. The two Maggies made eye contact,
and Maggie mouthed, "Nice touch." But she didn't need to be
quiet; the man wouldn't have heard her shout because of the
scream in his head.

She didn't wait for him to calm down, and without speaking to
him, went to work on his left nipple. When she was ready, she
glance up and received a nod. Together they repeated the ball and
nipple combo again. Camille thought they must have practiced to
have the timing down so well. Then the flogging stopped and the
tall Megan cradled his face, "You don't seem to be paying
attention, so we're going to take another very short break. When
you're calmer, we'll be back and explain the rest of the tools."
And she walked away.

Once again the four women met in the "break room" as they began
to call it. A table of snacks and white wine greeted them.
Camille closed the door, loud enough that Mark could hear it, and
switched on the big screen monitor. They watched him thrash about
as much as his bindings allowed.

"We'll just let him stew a bit," she said before turning to Meg.
"Once he seems to calm down a little, you can go do your thing."

"Which one?"

"We'll decide then, but I'm liking the combo. That should really
get his attention."

The women sat, chit-chatting as if they were on someone's patio.
Occasionally one would look up at the monitor. Finally, Becky
said, "It looks like he's stopped thrashing around now."

Meg slowly rose, took a sip of her wine and told the group in
general, "Top off my glass. I'm going to spend a few quality
minutes with our boy there." She quietly slipped out.

Camille picked up the remote and turned up the volume. They all
focused on the screen. Meg was very quietly gathering something
and was about half way across the room before she let her heels
make a sound. Mark's head snapped up at the sudden clicking of
the high heels.

Stopping just behind him, and out of his line of sight, Meg
reached out a gloved hand and slowly, lightly, rubbed his blazing
ass. "Poor baby, I'll be that really hurts." She heard muffled
groans and whimpers. "Don't worry; I'm not going to smack it. I
want to help you take your mind off it." She moved forward,
gently rubbing and stroking as she went along. She squatted next
to his head.

She stared into his eyes and smiled very slightly. As she reached
out her hand to stroke his cheek, she looked past his face and
saw that his cock was twitching in his cock cage, and that his
balls were turning a nice purple. And swelling a little bit. She
softly took his balls in her hand.

"Oh, your poor little dick is all locked up, but I bet if it were
free you could show me something," she cooed in his ear. She was
resting her cheek against his. "That must be uncomfortable. Does
this help," she asked as she gave his balls a squeeze. She smiled
in satisfaction as his eyes crossed and more tears streamed down
his face.

"Oh well, I guess not. But this will help you focus on something
else so you won't think about that pain for a while." She held up
a cord for him to see. "I'm going to tie one end here to this
ring on the brace by your foot, and," she tied the cord and held
up the other end, "... thread this through the rings on your
clamps like this. Now I'll tie this end off down here on this
ring."

As she tied off the other end she pulled all the slack up, and
then tugged just a little more. He tried to lower his chest to
stop the pain, but his arms, already sore and tired from being
tied behind his and attached to the ceiling, screamed with new
pain. "There," she smiled at him. "That should do it," and
plucked the cord as if it were a guitar string. She rose and
turned to walk away.

"I almost forgot," she told him as she slipped a hook of some
kind over the cord between his nipples. "These may add some
weight to your focus," and slipped lead weights onto the hook.
The cord sagged, pulling even harder on the nipple clamps. As she
walked away, she slapped back and caught his balls with an open
handed slap. "Rest well."

As she reentered the break room and closed the door, Maggie
handed her a full wine glass. Becky smiled broadly, "Nicely
done." Camille added her praise.

As they sat watch Mark struggle, Becky asked the room, "Do you
think he'd break now?" They all watched the screen for a moment.

"I think so," Camille said. "I think he'd sell out his
Grandmother right now. But since we have his cousin on the way,
we'll wait. We already have all the information he can give us."
She settled back in her chair and sipped more wine. "Besides,
it's going to be fun to watch the rest of it."

They watched him as he tried to find a middle ground in his pain.
If he raised himself to relieve the pressure on his shoulders and
arms, he pulled even more on his nipples. And the opposite was
just as true. Finally Camille turned to Becky, "Ready?"

"I've been looking forward to this for a long time," Becky gave
her a grin, "A real long time." And with a nod, she went out into
the room.

Becky made no attempt to hide or muffle her approach. The click
of her heels echoed throughout the room. She walked to the cart
and waited for him to raise his eyes, and when he didn't, she
said, very softly, "Look at me!"

She picked up a quirt from the cart and slowly walked to his side
and slashed the tip on his ass. Just once. She walked back in
front of him and his eyes, filled with tears, met hers. "That's
better. You need to do exactly what you're told immediately. Or,
I may have to thrash your ass until it bleeds. Is that what you
want?" Eyes wide, he shook his head no.

"Good. Now what I have to explain to you is somewhat complicated,
so you'll need to pay attention." Camille smiled to herself at
Becky's soft sultry tone. "We have asked you very nicely for your
cooperation and you refused. I'd bet you're ready to tell us what
we want," she watched the bound man nod his head in agreement,
"But we just aren't sure. You might indicate yes now, but then
renege later and we'd just have to start all over again. You
understand that, don't you?"

She reached forward and gently stroked his tear-streaked cheek.
"If it was up to me, but it isn't. So," she reached behind her
and picked up an object and held it before him, "This is part of
the next step."

The object she held before him was a dildo. His eyes widened as
he took in its length and thickness. He violently started shaking
his head 'No' and was screaming behind the gag. He didn't know
what they had planned, but he did know it wouldn't be pleasant.

"Mark, Mark," Becky cooed, "Calm down before you hurt yourself."
She again stroked his cheek. "I'll bet you thought I was going to
strap this on and fuck you with it. Relax, I'm not going to do
that." She continues murmuring and gently touching him.

When he finally settled a little, she replaced the dildo on the
tray and picked up a bottle and moved behind him again. All he
could see on the cart was a lump covered with a tarp or something
like that. He jerked when something long and thin slipped into
his ass. He felt a warm liquid start to fill him. Then whatever
it was she shoved into him was pulled out.

"See that wasn't so bad. You'll appreciate that in a little bit.
You see I'm not going to fuck you, but," she yanked the cover off
the lump with a flourish, "This is."

He couldn't figure out what he was looking at. His mind seemed to
have just blanked. She turned her back on him and seemed to be
doing something to the   whatever it was. She stepped back and
smiled at him.

"Ever see anything like this? It's a machine, actually an
electric motor, with a wheel and a drive arm attached. I won't
fuck you because I just wouldn't last long enough; I'd eventually
get tired. But this machine can, and will, fuck you all night."

Becky took his head in both her hands, looking directly into his
eyes. With their lips almost touching, she said, "Won't that be
fun? Fucking all night long. I'll attach the dildo to the drive
arm and extend it so you'll know how deep it is going to be
before we ever start." He was screaming now, shaking his head
violently. But Becky held him and made him look at her. "Don't
worry about it slipping out. You seen the stroke on the machine
is only about five or six inches and the dildo is about eleven
inches, so you needn't worry about it slipping out."

Becky stood and walked around the cart and started attaching the
dildo. As she rotated the wheel to it furthest point, she said,
"We've bolted the machine to the cart and the cart has locking
wheels and braces which will lock it to your bench there. And of
course, we'll lock the wheels. We wouldn't want the thing to get
loose and roll away from you in mid-fuck. You don't like being
disturbed mid-fuck, do you?"

As she spoke this last to him the two Maggies had walked up
behind him to help her get everything set up. The three of them
stationed the cart in position when she wheeled it around. Meg
pulled out a tube of K-Y jelly and applied it to the dildo. She
held it aimed at his sphincter while the other two moved the cart
into position.

"Relax and don't move. If you tighten up it will just hurt more
and if you move, I'll just have to remove some skin off you ass
until you decide to cooperate." With that, Becky and Maggie
shoved the cart and the dildo slid into his body. "Now that went
in easy. I would have though you were a virgin back here," Becky
cooed, "But maybe I was wrong."

While the Maggies slid the cart the rest of the way forward and
attached cables, Becky walked back in front of the man. In her
hand was a small black box. "Here is the remote control. Isn't it
small? And besides an off/on switch, it also has a speed
function. We haven't figured out the 'strokes per minute,' so
we'll just say it goes from very slow to
'knock-the-breath-out-of-you' fast. And it has a variable
function, just like the treadmills at the gym."

She got a nod from the Maggies and smiled broadly. "Now Mark,
everything is ready. Let me demonstrate." She pushed a button and
the machine came to life. The dildo pistoned in and out of his
ass and Mark screamed and shook. Becky stroked his cheek again,
"Now, now, you really should calm down. It is going to be a long
night. You don't want to wear yourself out. The machine won't."

She held his face looking directly into his eyes as she slid the
speed control forward. The cart and man shook. "And that isn't
even the fastest setting," Becky said as she slowed it down
again, and then turned it off. She reached down and caught the
weights swinging on the chain between the nipple clamps. "Maybe
if we add some weight, these won't swing as much. I don't know if
that will work, but we can try." And she did just that.

She stood and started to walk away. She had a thought and
squatted by his face again and leaned in and gave him a small
peck on the cheek. "Enjoy yourself. I will." And with that she
stood and strode away, flicking on the machine which she has
preset to variable.

As she walked into the "lounge" Becky saw that Camille and the
Maggies were stripping out of their body suits and slipping into
silk robes. She laid the remote on the table and hurried to join
them. As she pulled the bodysuit off, she commented, "God, I need
a shower."

"You're right about that; I feel filthy."

"And sweaty."

"And then the sauna and spa," Camille added. "And some wine; I
could use a drink."

As the women walked into the large communal shower, they were
suddenly shy. It hadn't dawned on them that they would be naked
together. Slowly, with backs turned for privacy, they took the
robes off and slipped out of their underwear. It was finally
Becky, to Camille's surprise, who said, "To hell with it," And
with head high and shoulders back, marched into the shower.

The other three women stood frozen for a few seconds before one
of the Maggies burst out laughing. The other two joined her and
they turned together and headed for the doorway already filling
with steam.

Afterwards, clean and relaxed, sipping wine in the frothing spa,
Camille said, "Becky, you were the last person I expected to turn
around and march into the shower."

"Why?"

"When I met you, not that long ago, you were ..." her voice
trailed off.

"A bit mousey. Is that the phrase you're looking for? Well I was,
but I think I'm changing. These past weeks have given me both
hope and my life back. I think I could've just as easily
castrated him and left him to bleed to death, but this is better.
Give him something to live in fear of."

"Here, here! To a living hell," the other women raised their wine
glasses. As they sipped Camille's cell phone rang. She answered
it, and then was quiet and just listened. As she listened a smile
spread across her face. She flipped the phone closed.

"Ladies, our substitute teacher/scout is in the building. Whoa,
whoa," she said as the Maggies got to their feet and started to
climb out. "We're not needed for her; there is another team to
handle her. But we can watch on the big screen there."

She rose from the water and dripped her way to a wall unit by the
bar and pushed a few buttons. The TV came to life with the image
of a room similar to the one they had recently abandoned. She
pushed another button and got the "screen in a screen" feature.
In the upper right corner they could see their captive being
mercilessly fucked by the machine. As Camille slipped into the
spa again, the other woman slid around so they were nestled on
one side watching the TV.

********

Doors at the far end of the room opened and three women, dressed
in the black body suits and hoods, half dragged and half led a
bound woman into the room. Her hands were tied behind her back.
The only sounds to be heard were the click of heels and muffled
noised coming from the bound woman, as she was already gagged and
blindfolded. The procession stopped and one of the hooded women
stepped away, picked up a hook and cable from the ceiling mounted
wench and connected it to the woman's wrist bindings. Whoever was
operating the camera zoomed in for a tighter picture just as the
hooded woman nodded to someone off-screen. The wench started
taking up the slack until the bound woman's wrists started to
rise. The woman jerked about but to no avail. The three woman
removed her blindfold and just walked away leaving her to
thrash.

After a few minutes she stilled, probably worn out and scared.
The three women slowly walked back on screen and toward the
woman. She cocked her head trying to catch sounds or voices, but
her tormentors said nothing. They had said nothing since they had
snatched her from her underground parking garage. They did,
however, hold up scissors and begin to cut her clothing off, one
piece at a time. Her blouse, pants, bra, pantyhose, and finally
panties all fell in pieces to the floor. She stood before them
naked and was visibly trembling, tears streaming down her face.
Her sniffling was the only sound.

One of the women moved out of camera range again. The cable
pulled slightly and the bound woman was pulled up on tip toe. The
hooded woman walked back on screen with a horse quirt dangling
from her wrist by its leather loop. She walked slowly in front of
their captive and let her see it. Her eyes widened and she began
shaking her head "no" and making pleading noises through her gag.
The woman in black let her arm drop to her side so the quirt's
handle fell into her palm. She raised her arm and extended the
leather wrapped bamboo and gently touched her captive's cheek
with it. A faint smile played across her lips.

She walked slowly around the suspended woman. With a quick flick
of the wrist she struck the woman's backside leaving a red welt.
She continued walking around her, flicking the quirt here and
there. Stomach, thighs, back and breasts were all targets. She
was slow and methodical, making each blow a distinct pain and
making sure she never broke skin. As she worked the captive over
another of the women stepped away. The woman with the quirt
stopped as the second woman reappeared holding a leather-covered
paddle. The second woman took the first woman's place in front of
the captive and held up the paddle until the sobbing woman looked
up.

The women in the spa poured more wine and watched as the woman
moved behind the captive and swung the paddle hard. It hit the
captive's left butt cheek, and was followed by a blow to the
right. The spanking was rhythmic, almost mechanical, as the
masked woman rained blow after blow on the captive's bottom.
Still the only sounds were the woman's muffled screams and sobs.
Suddenly the third woman stepped in front of the captive holding
an ordinary household ruler and with no ceremony began smacking
the captive's nipples with it. As with the paddler, she
alternated nipples   left, right, left, right. After a few
minutes, the women stopped and all three walked off screen.

********

"If I didn't know who she was, I would really feel sorry for
her," one of the Maggies said. All four women stared at the
screen.

"Camille, did you know about that other group? You know, the
group working on her," Becky asked.

"No, not really. But I'm not surprised. The boss understands the
concept of compartmentalizing and knows how to use it
effectively. She seems to have two groups, each working one side
of the problem, and is keeping us separate. A 'need to know' kind
of thing, like in the spy movies." She sipped her wine and
sighed, "But I'd have loved to have a go at her."

Maggie said, "I find it interesting that while we taunted our
asshole out there, they haven't said a word to her. She seems to
be completely in the dark about why she was taken. He had to have
figured it out pretty quickly. I wonder if she even has a clue."

The women relaxed and dealt with their own private thoughts. They
sipped their wine, each seeming to stare off into space.

"Oh look," Meg said, "they're coming back."

Becky smiled a grim smile, "It's Showtime!"

********

The women entered pushing a cart. As before, there were no sounds
other than the clicking of their heels and the squeak of the
cart's wheels. They stopped before their captive. One of the
women aimed a remote and the cable started moving, lowering the
captive's arms. As the cable continued to loosen, she crumpled
slowly to the floor. One of her capturers guided her head, so
that she was on her back. The other two each grabbed a foot and
bent her knees so that her legs were doubled up.  They continued
by wrapping her thighs and shins so that her legs would remain
doubled up. The captive woman put up no resistance.

While they continued to bind their captive, the third woman
dragged over a wooden contraption that looked like a sawhorse.
But the top edge had been beveled to almost a point. As she
positioned it below the ceiling pulley, the captive was rolled
over and a very large butt-plug was shoved into her. The woman
watching from the spa couldn't tell if it had been lubricated,
but even if it had been the sheer size alone would have accounted
for the muffled screaming. The captive was then lifted and placed
on the sawhorse, legs straddling the contraption. The cable was
raised so that she wouldn't fall off and forced her weight to
press her down onto the beveled edge.

Ropes were looped through the leg bindings and secured with very
little slack to rings at the bottom of the back legs of the
sawhorse. One of the women stepped to the cart and came away with
something in her hands. She showed the objects to the captive.
They were nipple clamps with cord tied to rings. She attached the
rings to the captive's nipples while the other two women held her
somewhat upright, forcing her weight onto the base of the
butt-plug. When she was finished with the nipple clamps, she
reached down and spread the woman's nether lips. The other two
women let her fall forward, obviously pressing her body's weight
down onto her clit. She then tied the cords to rings in the
forward legs of the sawhorse, again with just a little slack.

It had become obvious what the captive's night would be like. If
she sat back to relieve the pressure on her clit, she would pull
on her nipples and shove the butt-plug deeper. If she leaned
forward to relieve that pressure, all her weight would be on her
clit. The masked women had still not made a sound. They turned
and left the captive to her fate.

********

The four women in the spa had watched this with subdued
fascination. Camille reached for the remote and pressed a button.
The screen split into two images; one of each captive and their
individual tortures.

Camille's cell phone rang. She answered it and just listened.
Finally she just said, "Thank you. We will." She closed the phone
and turned to her companions.

"They found all twenty four of the discs. They went through his
apartment with a fine toothed comb and found his stash of videos
and a detailed diary. He kept an inventory of the videos, when he
transferred them from tape and CDs to DVDs. He also rated each
encounter, each victim. The whole thing is there. How each victim
was scouted, by her," she nodded to the screen, "and how the two
of them celebrated each experience. They fucked and watched the
videos and compared her assessment with his."

Camille shuttered and reached for her wine glass which one of the
Maggies had refilled. They all sat in silence for a while. Then
Becky spoke, "Are the DVDs they found all of them?"

"They're searching her apartment now. It is in the same complex.
So far they've found nothing. But I'll bet they'll tell us in the
morning. In the meantime, she'll be left alone with her seating
problem." They all looked as the woman tried to ease the pain and
could find no way to do it. "No one has said a word to her, so
unless she has figured this is payback, she's in the dark. We, on
the other hand, have given him a clue. And we can continue to
abuse him throughout the night, adding to his misery. I think by
the time we take his gag out, he'll tell us anything we want to
know. So, in answer to your question Becky, if there are more
copies he'll gladly share them with us, just as he'll tell us
about her. And she'll see and hear him give her up."

Becky rose from the spa and grabbed a towel. "I want to go add to
his misery a little. Back in a few minutes." She smiled that
humorless smile again as she left the room.

Camille watched her go and thought, 'Boy, has she come out of her
shell.'

"That woman is getting a bit scary," Maggie said, to no one in
particular.

They watched the screen as Becky, wearing a mask and a long
flowing robe walked to their captive. She stopped to pick up the
quirt from the cart with her right hand and cradled something in
her left. She stepped in front of the man and put the quirt under
his chin and raised his face so he could look at her.

"Open your eyes and look at me." When he looked up into her mask,
Becky continued, "You know why you're here and why we're doing
this. But I don't think you realize how serious we are. I want to
make sure you pay attention tonight and ponder what you've been
asked. You weren't very forthcoming the first time. When we ask
again, you will be or the incentives will increase."

She reached into the folds of her robe and pulled out some lead
weights. "These should help you concentrate and focus your mind."
She hooked them onto his nipple clamps and the added weight
caused the clamps to both tighten and pull down.

Becky dropped the man's chin and walked from his view. The women
watching thought she was coming back, but instead she stopped and
seemed to watch the machine driving the dildo in and out of his
ass. Then quickly she whipped the quirt across his ass cheeks.
His head jerked back. The weights on his nipple clamps swung back
and forth adding to the pressure on his tender nipples. She
continued thrashing him across the ass with the quirt.

Finally she stopped and silently left the room.

Chapter 3
Confessions

Becky slowly awoke the next morning. The bed beside her was
empty. Camille was already up and about. She closed her eyes for
another minute, trying for just a few more minutes sleep. But low
chatter from another room and the scent of fresh coffee drew her
back to the land of the living. She rolled over and swung her
feet to the floor. She padded naked into the bathroom and
prepared for the day.

Twenty minutes later she walked into the break room where she
found breakfast and coffee. She immediately poured herself a cup
and drank the hot liquid. She topped it up and looked over her
shoulder, "More coffee anyone."

They all shook their heads, so she joined them at the table and
helped herself to the breakfast that was laid out. The others
watched as she attacked the eggs and bacon as if she had never
eaten. "Hungry," Camille asked as the two Maggies laughed.

"I'm starved. I can't remember food tasting this good," Becky
mumbled around a mouthful. Then her eyes darkened, "At least not
since the last time I dealt with that asshole out there. That son
of a bitch robbed us of life. Not just raped us that once, but
continued all this time."

"We can physically abuse him until he dies," Meg said darkly,
"but that won't even the score. Becky's right, he really has
fucked up our lives."

Camille smiled broadly, "I believe that we won't be killing him.
Or her for that matter. They have another fate. I don't know what
it is, but I think they will eventually wish we had killed
them."

"Well, when do we start?" Maggie looked eager to start.

"Now is as good a time as any," Camille continued to smile as she
strode toward the door.

********

As they stood in the doorway, they heard the man's moans over the
machine driving the dildo into his ass. It was a pitiful sound,
but not one of the black-clad women felt any pity. As they slowly
walked toward him, the man must have heard the clicking of their
high heels because his head came up and he tried to turn it to
see them. That effort sent the weights on the chain to his nipple
clamps swinging and he stopped.

As they approached him, one of the women picked up the remote and
switched it to manual and slowed the pistoning action to the
slowest speed. And then when the dildo was buried in him fully,
she stopped the machine completely. The remaining women walked in
front of him and stood motionless, gazing down on him. The one in
the middle used the quirt under his chin and slowly raised his
face.

"Look at me!" When his eyes came up to meet hers, she went on.
"Last night you were asked two questions. You lied to both. So
you forced us to employ some incentives. In a few minutes we
shall see if they have helped you grasp the concept of truth. If
not ..."

Except for the man's ragged breathing, the room was silent. "This
time we will be using this gag," the woman on the left said. She
held up a strap with a very long thick penis gag.

"And one of us will be whipping your ass with this quirt," the
third woman said. "If you understand what we just said, you need
to nod to let us know you do."

The man nodded very enthusiastically, oblivious to the pain in
his nipples as the weights started swinging again. He knew in his
soul that he would tell them anything they wanted to know.

"Good," said the woman in the middle, "then we can proceed. First
we'll take the weights off your chain. Then we'll remove the
clamps. The dildo will stay buried in you and the ball stretcher
will stay in place." She leaned in closer with each word, until
her face was right in front of his and he could feel her breath
on his face. "Then we will ask you for the truth, just once."

"If you're sure you are willing to answer us with the truth,
we'll start."

********

The woman was still mounted on the sawhorse contraption. The
hooded figures had reentered the room occasionally during the
night to beat her ass with the quirt or paddle, but had never
uttered a word. Through the flood of pain her mind kept crying,
"Why?"

She tried to turn when she heard the click of heels and what
sounded like a rolling cart. 'God, what more can they do to me?
Why? Why?'

The black-clad figures didn't speak. They rolled a cart with a
wide TV screen in front of her. One of the figures stepped
forward to remove the gag from her mouth. Another stood in front
of her and, using a quirt, raised her face so she was looking at
the screen and pointed at it. The figure only smiled when the
woman's raspy voice said, 'What? You want me to watch TV."

And the screen came to life. She tried to focus, but the pain
blurred her eyes. Her head dropped and a streak of fire lit her
ass. The quirt was under her chin again raising her face to the
screen. The image started to come into focus.  There was a man
strapped to some kind of bench and he was being tortured by more
of these same figures. The camera started a slow zoom in on the
tableau. And she could hear one of the figures talking to the
man. "The dildo will stay buried in you and the ball stretcher
will stay in place." There was a pause as the figure leaned in
close. "Then we will ask you for the truth, just once."

Through the pain that was fogging her brain, the man's face
started to come into focus. And she knew they were both in very
serious trouble. And all she could do is watch in horror, tears
starting to run down her face.

********

"Then we will ask you for the truth, just once." The buckle was
loosened and the gag removed. The bound man gulped air. "Are you
ready now?"

"Yes." The answer was a hoarse whisper, barely audible.

"I realize it must be hard for you to speak up, but you must. Are
you ready now?" the hooded women raised his face with the quirt
again. "Are you Ronnie?"

"Mark," he rasped back. "My name is Mark."

"Very good, Mark. See how easy that was. Now something a little
harder." The woman squatted in front of his face and her eyes
held his, like a snake with a bird. "You played a game for a
number of years. What did you call it?"

He tried to swallow, but nothing seemed to work. "Water please,"
he rasped, "May I please have a sip of water?"

"Alright, after you answer my question."

"Hunt and Fuck. I called it Hunt and Fuck." A bottle of water
appeared and he was given a sip. It did little to ease the
rawness in his throat.

"Did you play it alone?" A gloved hand gently stroked his cheek
and raised his face. "And remember the last incentive training
session was only twelve hours. If you lie, the next one will be
twenty four hours. Then we will start questioning you again."

He felt one of these women lay a quirt across his ass, as if
ready to use it on him. "No, not alone."

"How many times did you play?"

"Twenty five times."

"Did you always record the game?"

"Not the first one, but after that we recorded all of them."

"Where are the originals?"

"They got burned up in a fire. We kept them in a little farm
house my family owned. I had already transferred everything onto
DVDs," he voice was little more than a raspy whisper. "Can I have
another sip of water?"

********

The woman whimpered. She had cried out once, but was beaten
several times with the quirt and had stopped. She could only
watch the TV in horror as her world imploded. As she watched Mark
ask again for water, a hand rested on her shoulder and then
pushed her forward crushing her clit in the edge of the sawhorse
contraption. And she heard a voice for the first time.

"You won't need this anymore." The voice was soft, almost
soothing. The giant butt plug was ripped out of her. "This will
feel better ... for a while." She felt something slide into her
ass, much smaller than the butt plug.

"However, this one inflates to a much bigger size and can be
attached to an enema bag. So it might not be so pleasant after
all."

She wanted to turn her head to see the soft voice, but the hand
holding her down was suddenly gone. She sat up quickly to relieve
the pressure on her clit and the nooses yanked on her nipples.
She cried out and was whipped once across her ass. She just
whimpered again. And watched the TV.

********

"Sip," the hooded woman told Mark as he tried to gulp water. "We
don't want you to become sick."

"Now Mark, how did your partnership work?"

"She would scout nearby high schools, as a substitute teacher or
teacher's aide. Find candidates. I would get some drugs from the
psych lab. Doctor her drink and then play our game."

"Did you do the filming   set up the camera and all?"

"No. She sorta followed us and come in as we did. The girls would
be out of it by then and never know she was there. She filmed and
then was actually able to edit it for the final product. We could
copy it and leave a copy with a note. May I please have another
sip of water?"

Mark was aware she hadn't asked again about the who and he wanted
to protect Sandy as long as he could. Maybe they could flee and
hide out if these women didn't find out who she was. If he could
escape.

"Mark, you've been so cooperative we want to give you a little
relief." He heard noise behind him and the machine with the dildo
was pulled back. And to his great relief the dildo had been
removed from his ass.

While Mark tried to calm down, Becky was removing the dildo from
machine. She picked up a second one from the table and holding it
down by her side walked around to face him. As she knelt next to
his face she gave him another little peck on the cheek.

"Mark you've been doing so well, I thought you should have a bit
of relief. So I removed this from you," she cooed holding up the
dildo in front of his face. "Does it feel better without this in
you?"

"Yes. Yes thank you," he rasped out. "You are so kind."

"Well, you might not think so, because I'm replacing it with this
one." The dildo she held up must have been fifteen inches long
and as thick as a softball bat. "And you notice this one seems a
bit firmer. It has a hard core covered with the 'fleshy' stuff,
so when it rams into you there is no give and it can really give
you a ride."

There was real terror in his voice when he cried, "Why? I'm
answering your questions."

"It's really quite simple. One you're not telling us all the
truth without being asked. And two   I guess revenge. I'm on one
of those DVDs."

She told him this as she stood and then she walked behind him and
attached the new dildo to the machine. Then while Camille held
his head up with the quirt and shushed him, she and the Maggies
shoved the dildo home and reattached the machine table. Becky
picked up the controls and set them to the slowest setting. She
leaned over Mark's shoulder and whispered in his ear, "We also
adjusted the machine so that the stroke will be longer as well."
She flipped the on switch and the dildo slowly withdrew about
twelve inches and started into him again.

"Auuuggghhh," Marked screamed incoherently. "What do you want to
know?"

Over his blubbering Becky whispered in his ear, "It'll cum to
you," and giggled.

********

Through the haze and agony of her pain, the woman heard the
masked figure tell Mark, "It's really quite simple. One you're
not telling us all the truth without being asked. And two   I
guess revenge. I'm on one of those DVDs." She watched as the
masked figures reassembled the machine with a huge dildo and
started it.

She wondered if she would die from the pain. Then she felt the
object in her ass start to inflate. She heard something being
rolled toward her and saw out of the corner of her eye a tall
stand. There was a giant looking enema bag hanging from it. She
groaned as she tried again, in vain, to find a comfortable
position.

"It's a four quart bag. Filled with icy soapy water," the hoarse
whisper beside her ear told her. Someone was doing something
behind her and suddenly she felt an icy cold trickle enter her.
"Don't worry, it will warm up long before you expel it." Then she
heard Mark scream on the TV.

********

When the speed increased on the machine driving the dildo into
his ass, Mark screamed. His mind when blank as the hard rubber
hammered him relentlessly. He had to find a way to make it stop.

"She is my cousin   Sandy Mitchell. Sandy was my scout. She would
substitute teach and pick out just the right girl and we play our
game. She filmed them, edited them. I kept all the copies. We'd
watch them together and fuck." All of this came out in a
breathless rush. The machine slowed and then stopped, with the
dildo buried in him.

"There that was easy. Don't you feel better now that you've
unburdened yourself?" The gloved hand stroked his cheek again.
"Now, tell us all about Sandy."

********

The flow of soapy water into her bowels was relentless. Her body
cramping and the spasms were causing her to jerk her whole body.
The nooses kept yanking her nipples; she wished she could die.

Through the pain she heard Mark tell whoever it was all about
her. Her skills and her preferences. What she liked to eat. The
first time she'd fucked him. And still the water flowed into her
body. She heard him telling about their times at the farm  
watching the DVDs, fucking, horseback riding. Then suddenly the
water stopped.

'Is it finally over,' she asked herself.

"That's about half the water. We wanted to get you prepped for
the rest. It will be much faster." The hoarse-voiced whisperer
was at her ear again. "We need to adjust your ride just a bit.
Someone lifted the back end of the sawhorse contraption throwing
her off balance and her forward motion crushed her clit again.

She cried out and couldn't relieve the pressure. And she felt the
water inside her shift further into her body. She didn't see the
figure raise the stand holding the enema bag, but felt the
results. The remaining water gushed into her. She almost passed
out from the shock of the icy water and the pain of her crushed
clit. The water stopped just as abruptly as it had started. She
felt hands around her ass again.

"All full." She heard the stand being rolled away. The sawhorse
lifted just a bit and was dropped back onto the floor. The motion
threw her back again, off her clit. But before she could register
relief the nooses yanked her nipples. The water sloshed around in
her and her whole midsection cramped.

"We'll let you rest." The room seemed silent except for the click
of high heels clicking away. The silence was shattered by Mark's
scream.

********

Becky sat back on her heels; her face was right in front of
Mark's. She reached out her gloved right hand and stroked his
cheek. "You see Mark; I knew you'd feel better if you just told
us everything. We're gonna let you rest now. But just so you
don't forget you lesson here today, I'm going to add these
weights to your balls." She showed him two lead drops.

"It might be unpleasant for a while, but you'll probably adjust."
With that she stood and walked by him, trailing her hand along
his side. She knelt and added the weights to those already
stretching his balls. She stood and patted his ass, almost
affectionately, and walked away.

Mark listened as the click of her high heels filled the silent
room. He breathed in and out slowly, trying to ease the pain
wracking his body. The sound stopped. He didn't hear a door open
or close. The only sound was his labored breathing.

"Rest time is over," he heard her voice say as the dildo came to
life hammering his ass. Any sounds in the room were drowned out
by his screams.

********

Becky, Camille, and the two Maggies were sipping wine and
nibbling at a plate of cheese and crackers. They had showered and
relaxed in the Jacuzzi in silence, each woman deep in her own
private thoughts. The TV was on with a split-screen showing Mark
and Sandy in their torment, but the women only occasionally
glanced.

"What now," asked the black-haired Maggie, "while this has been
therapeutic, I'm about ready to get on with my life."

"Yeah," red-haired Maggie agreed. "I need to process all this
with Dr O, but I feel less ..." She groped for a word.

"Finished," offered Becky.

Camille took a sip of wine. "I received a phone call while you
all we're in the shower. The tapes of what Mark said are being
analyzed. The farm he spoke of is being checked, just to make
sure there are no originals or DVDs there. Any computers will be
destroyed. Tomorrow morning we will stop all the abuse and put
them in cells to rest for a day. They'll be given food and
drinks, but will be cuffed with limited range for their hands."

"Then what," the other women all asked together.

"I don't know. We'll probably find out tomorrow." With that they
lapsed into silence.

Following dinner they all drifted off to bed. As Becky slipped
into the bed she was sharing with Camille, Camille reached out to
her. "Let's spoon tonight. I need your warmth." They soon drifted
off to sleep.

********

The next morning the women breakfasted and donned the body suits.
The giddiness they had shared had changed. They were a little
more somber, but also much closer. They went into the large room
where Mark's ass was still being hammered. The machine was
switched off, the dildo unceremoniously removed. The ball
stretcher and weights were taken off. Soon Mark was free of
everything. Except the cock cage. A wide leather belt was cinched
and locked around his waist and his hands were cuffed to it by
short chains. 

"Are you gonna kill me now?" His voice was so hoarse they barely
heard him. No one replied in any way. He was given a sip of
water. With hands under his arms, the women guided him out and
down a hall. They stopped in front of another door, which one of
them unlocked and opened. Inside was a small room with a cot and
a chair. There was a toilet in one corner.

They moved him to the bed and sat him down. "Someone will bring
you food. Sit on the bed if there is a knock on the door." He
didn't recognize the voice. Then they turned and left him,
locking the door.

Unknown to any of them, ten minutes later Sandy was brought to
another room further down the hall. She was given similar
instructions and left.

They were fed and allowed to sleep in peace. Neither could image
what their future held. Neither had the energy nor will to try.

********

About two hours later Camille's cell phone rang. She answered it
then listened for a long time. She mumbled 'Yes' a few times and
asked a few questions the others couldn't quite hear. Then she
hung up.

"Well, I could use some more coffee," Camille said over her
shoulder as she headed to the kitchen. The other three hurried to
follow.

"Well," Becky demanded when Camille snapped her phone closed,
"what's up?"

"They will be left alone with their own thoughts today and most
of tomorrow." Camille didn't have to elaborate of who 'they'
were. "They will be fed and given water, but that is all. They
won't even see who is giving them these things. We won't be
involved."

"What do we do," asked the dark haired Maggie.

"We," Camille started, "are to rest and relax. Use the Jacuzzi,
swim in the pool, lie in the sun ... whatever we need to do to
relax. Late tomorrow we will gather for dinner with the other
group, the group that worked with Sandy. We will learn their
fates and watch the beginning of their last punishment here. And
I guess we will find out about what we'll be doing, if
anything."

They all sat staring into space lost in their own private
thoughts. Becky picked up her coffee cup and sipped. "Huh," was
all she could say.

They all ended up by the pool. As she walked out, Becky noticed
that the dark-haired Maggie was naked and glistening with oil.
And she had no tan lines. The other Maggie wore a skimpily cut
one-piece bathing suit and was slathered with sunscreen. Becky
herself was wearing a modest two piece and her sun screen was
somewhere between the two Maggies.

Camille followed Becky out wearing a string bikini and carrying a
pitcher of Margaritas. As she served she said, "Well, we may as
well relax." They did just that.

They were joined by six other women, the Sandy team. Becky
recognized two as women who worked for her company. She knew
their names were Rachel and Beverly. The women all introduced
themselves. More Margaritas appeared. The afternoon passed
languidly with little talking.

********

The women had done as they had been told. They relaxed for two
days and were all heading for the big dining room for the Big
Mysterious Meeting, as Rachael had dubbed it. As they entered
they were all surprised to see Dr Ormond waiting. And with her
was Audrey Hartman, the woman who had financed this little
project and, it turned out, had actually hired all eight of the
women. She gestured to the table.

"Please be seated."

They sat and were treated to a wonderful dinner. Chit-chat
accompanied the meal. Becky realized that she was both relaxed
and tense. She wanted to know what was going to happen to Mark
and Sandy. Dessert was served and Audrey stood up.

"You are all probably wondering what is about to happen." She
looked each woman in the eyes. "In a few minutes you'll witness
our friends' final punishment here. I must warn you it is
particularly cruel and if you decide to step out that will be
fine. No one will think the less of you." She paused and sipped
from a glass of wine.

"However, there are a few things you should know and now is the
right time to unburden myself; right Dr Ormond? I spearheaded
this whole project because I was the first victim   as far as we
can find out. I have been very lucky since then and have managed
to share some of my luck with all the surviving victims." She
raised her wine glass to the others. "You have all recovered
well, and done a great job   both here and working for me. I
suggest we adjourn to the next phase. Follow me." She turned and
stepped through the French doors onto the patio and the group
rose and followed.

She led them through the gardens and past the pool. Becky
wondered the whole way what was happening. Then Audrey turned
toward the riding stables.

"This way," she said.

********

The women entered the stables and found themselves looking out
across a large fenced ring. To their left were seats on a
platform and Audrey led them to the chairs and beckoned them to
be seated. A waiter brought glasses of wine. With her back to the
ring, Audrey raised her glass in a toast.

"To strong women and healing."

The group raised their glasses in return. The women sipped; and
as Audrey joined them in her seat, two figures were led into the
arena by four muscular men. The men's features were hidden by
suits similar to what the women had worn. Mark and Sandy were
hooded so that their eyes were covered. Their arms were pulled
behind them in leather sleeves. They wore ball gags. Otherwise
they were naked and they moved as if the two days of rest hadn't
help with their soreness.

The women then turned as one at motion to their left. As a
collective breath was taken, Becky said, 'Oh My God," under her
breath at the sight. Two very large horses were being led into
the ring. They reminded Becky of jousting horses she'd seen at
Medieval Faires. But it wasn't the horses that caused her to
mummer. Each horse was saddled and each saddle was equipped with
a very large dildo in the seat. More accurately, one had a dildo
and the other had two.

Camille took Becky's hand and looked past her at Audrey.  Her
face was a frozen mask   not rage exactly, but close. And there
was no sign of pleasure on it. "Um, Ms Hartman, what ..."

Without turning to look at Camille, Audrey addressed the group at
large. "It's Audrey, except at the office or on official
business." She paused and took in a deep breath. "This is my
revenge. If you don't want to watch, please feel free to leave;
no one will think the less of you. But they both enjoyed riding;
so did I once. Actually I do again. But they won't."

"Sandy gets to ride the big roan. His saddle has the two dildoes.
Mark gets to ride the bay. He gets only one dildo naturally. But
he is wearing a ball stretcher which will be tied to a ring in
the saddle at the base of dildo, so his balls will be pulled back
under him. You'll notice neither saddle has stirrups, but there
are loops that will keep Mark and Sandy from falling off. Or
trying to slide off. The horses are well trained and very well
gaited."

She paused again; sipped some more wine.

"Our friends will find it extremely uncomfortable while the
grooms walk the horses. Trotting take them to a new plane of
pain. Cantering will be ... existential." She smiled then, a very
cruel smile. And nodded.

Sandy was led to a mounting stand. The horse was walked over and
the two men holding Sandy lifted her out over the saddle, while
the groom positioned the dildos. As the dildoes started to enter
her body, Sandy screamed behind the ballgag to no avail. When the
groom stepped back and nodded, the two men let her go. Sandy's
weight drove the dildoes deep into her, impaling her on the
saddle. If not for the ballgag, the scream would have broken out
windows. Loose leg straps were secured around her thighs. The big
roan horse was slowly led away, with Sandy impaled to his back.

Mark sensed something wrong and tried to resist. The two men
simply lifted him off the ground and carried him to the mounting
stand. The big bay was led over and Mark was dropped quickly,
impaling him on the dildo. While he tried to scream around the
ball gag, one of the men leaned over and worked at his groin. The
leg straps were put in place and the bay led away. The four men
lifted the mounting stand and carried it out.

The two horses were opposite each other in the ring, standing
quietly as the two figures on their back twitch and struggled.
Their grooms stood back to back in the center of the ring with a
rope connected to the bridle and bit of each horse. A slender
training whip in hand. At a nod from Audrey, the grooms made a
clicking sound and the horses started a slow walk.

Audrey heard an intake of breath from the women surrounding her
as the horses walked and the captives struggled. With another
nod, the grooms had the horses trotting; another nod to a canter
and finally up to a gallop.

Sandy bounced up and down on the shafts in her. It was obvious
that with no stirrups, and her arms in the binders behind her
back, she had no control of her body. The horses gait threw her
up and down on the dildoes. Her muffled screams would have echoed
in the building if they hadn't been drowned out by Mark's.

Mark bounced on the big bay, but his problem was not just the
dildo. As the women watched they saw that as his body lifted from
the horse's movement it wasn't the fluid bounce of Sandy's. His
body seemed to rise, then halted sharply, and almost snapped back
in the saddle. They now understood what Audrey had meant. His
balls, pulled out by the ball stretcher, were fastened to the
saddle and, when his body dropped back down, he landed with his
full body weight on them.

Audrey raised her hand and the grooms slowly brought the horses
to a walk and then a full stop. The only sound came from the
gagged captives.

"Remind me never to piss you off," one of the 'Sandy team" said
into the silence. Audrey smiled at that, a genuine smile for the
first time that night.

"Not to worry." She reached down and picked up a microphone. "If
you would stop sniveling a moment, I have something to say. And
if you stay quiet, we'll remove those gags. I'm sure you'll be
able to breathe easier without them."

"While this might not be 'Divine' retribution, it is retribution
none the less. You see, we are the victims of your little game. I
believe you called it 'Hunt and Fuck.' You should appreciate how
dedicated we were and how good we are at playing your game as
well. I was your first victim." Every eye in the arena turned to
her. "And I've spent a long time finding you and, more
importantly tracking down your other victims. At least the ones
that are still alive. And helping them recover from your
treatment of them."

"I am almost satisfied that the retribution is complete. Or
almost complete I should say. We're leaving now." She stood and
beckoned the other women to follow. They did and walked in a
solemn procession to the doors. There Audrey stopped and turned
to face the two captives.

"Remove their gags," she ordered the grooms. When the gags were
removed the two couldn't speak, their throats raspy from
screaming. All they could do was gulp air.

Audrey turned to walk out and said over her shoulder, "Enjoy your
ride." There was the sound of whips cracking followed by screams
which didn't completely die down, even after the door closed
behind the departing women.

Epilogue
Six Months Later

Becky had just settled in at her desk with a cup of coffee.
Remembering how demeaned she'd felt, she never asked her
assistant to get her coffee. She relaxed her shoulders and took a
sip; and though about the previous evening.

David had been very nice, sweet even. They'd had dinner and then
gone to a jazz club. At her door, he kissed her   well to be
honest, they'd kissed each other very actively   but since she'd
claimed a need to be at the office early this morning, he'd gone
home without trying to pressure her into more. Camille had
introduced them and had told him Becky was still a bit tender and
not to push. So he didn't. He also didn't know that Becky knew
what Camille had told him.

Her reverie was broken up by the phone ringing. She looked at the
display and say it was Louise, Ms Hartman's admin. "Yes, Louise.
How are you this morning?"

"I'm very fine Becky; thank you for asking. Ms Hartman would like
you to come up for a meeting she just called. In twenty minutes
would be good, if you can clear your calendar for an hour or
so."

"It's very flexible today. I'll be up. Hint as to what this
about?" Louise knew almost everything.

"Sorry Becky; I have absolutely no idea. She just asked me to
call you and Camille. See you in a few minutes ... and I'll have
fresh coffee." With a chuckle, she hung up. Becky and Camille
were known throughout the company for their coffee consumption.

********

As Becky approached Audrey's office she saw Camille about to open
the door. Camille looked up and raised one eyebrow and Becky
shrugged. Apparently neither of them knew what was up. As they
entered Louise glanced up from her keyboard and said, "Go right
in. They're in the small conference room."

As they opened the conference room door they were greeted first
by the aroma of fresh coffee and then by Audrey. They were both a
bit surprised by the fourth person.

"Dr O," Becky recovered first, "how nice to see you."

"And it's good to see you both. You are looking well." Dr O
looked them both over from head to toe; then turned to Becky.
"How are things going with that young man?"

"Um, very well I think. Slower than I think he would like, but he
is being very good about it. We have another dinner date tonight,
maybe a movie."

"Good. And Camille, everything is well with you?"

"Very good."

Audrey cleared her throat. "I hate to interrupt, but we have some
important business here. Dr O is here ... is here basically to
monitor your reactions to what I'm about to tell you."

Becky said, "I think I'm going to need some coffee. This sounds
ominous."

Audrey laughed, "Go ahead. I hope it's not that bad."

The other three women joined Becky and after they all settled
back down, Audrey leaned forward. She looked Becky and Camille in
the eyes before going on.

"It has been six months since we left the farm. And neither of
you has mentioned it to me, or as far as I can tell, to anyone."
She raised a hand to silence the two women. "All the other women
who participated have asked if our two friends were still with
us. So to speak. But you two have shown no interest."

She paused and, watching them over her coffee cup, took a sip.
"It had me curious, so I asked the good doctor here if you were
healthy and dealing with what happened. The others all told me
they'd had some ... remorse isn't the word I want, but it will do
for now, over what happened. They mostly wanted to know if I had
the two killed. I assured them that I felt death was too good for
them."

Camille grimaced, "That's too bad." Becky didn't respond.

"I can understand your anger Camille, but let me assure you that
they would welcome death   in any form   to their lives now."

The four women sat in silence. Dr O studied the two young women,
analyzing their reactions. Finally Becky sipped some coffee, laid
her head back and spoke to the ceiling, "Are they still at the
farm? No wait ..." She pondered the ceiling some more.

"No, that would be too much risk. Risk versus reward." She
lowered her head and stared Audrey straight in the eye. "No, they
were moved; but not just moved, I think you sold them."

"Why do you say that?" Audrey seemed very interested in Becky's
thought process.

"You   we   all wanted revenge for what they did to us. Speaking
for myself, it really speeded up the healing process. I believe
it did the same for all of us. But after the revenge, they became
a liability. Risk versus reward. I believe you somehow found a
very rich, sick pervert who enjoys   actually enjoys on a regular
basis   what we did to them. And probably more. You sold them,
with no way to trace it back to you."

"And I sold them for a very large sum of money. God, I wish I'd
found out about you sooner; this company would be doing that much
better with your mind aboard sooner." Audrey smiled and turned to
Dr O, "You were right again Connie."

"Becky, you are absolutely correct. That was actually the
reasoning I used when I planned the whole escapade. Actually the
amount was obscene. After I showed the buyer an edited version of
what we did to them, he raised his own offer. Said we had given
him ideas he'd never had. They have been moved out of the
country. All traces of them gone. And best of all, no one seems
to be looking for them."

"I think I'm really going to enjoy dinner tonight," Becky
laughed.

Dr O thought, 'That is going to be a very lucky young man.'
Saying nothing she nodded to Audrey.

Audrey went on, "There is one more thing. After expenses, there
was quite a profit. So I've divided it among you and put it in
numbered off-shore accounts. So, you are both very wealthy women.
As a matter of fact, the whole group of you are now wealthy
women. I will give you packets with all relevant information."

Camille spoke. "Don't you need signature cards to open accounts
even off shore numbered accounts?"

"Yes, and you signed them in your original hiring packets. Nobody
every reads all those forms. Sharon, my account, has set the
accounts up and will help you. She will contact all of you for
appointments   investment advice on your calendars   next week."

Audrey smiled as Becky and Camille stared at her. "Now, I'm
taking some time off for a little vacation. This whole thing has
been a few years in the planning and execution. Now I need some
rest. You two can run things while I'm gone." And with that final
pronouncement, she turned and headed toward the door.

At the door, she paused and, looking over her shoulders, said,
"Oh, and by the way, you two have been promoted to Co-Executive
Vice Presidents of the company. And you're now members of the
Board. Paperwork is down in HR. Please sign it and take care of
things until I get back." And she left the conference room.

********

David wondered if everyone in the building could hear his heart
thudding in his chest. He had been a little shocked when Becky
turned away from a goodnight kiss at the door and had invited him
in. As soon as the door was closed, she came into his arms and
held on tight to him. Her head was against his chest and he was
holding her gently. But firmly, he thought, like a lifeline.

"David, I need to tell you some things and ask things of you."
She could hear and feel his heart pounding. That helped her. "Is
that okay?"

As an answer she felt his lips kissing her hair. So she went on.

"When I was young, I was drugged and raped. It wasn't until
recently that I worked with a therapist and, I think, have worked
my way to a place I can put it behind me. I've only gone out with
a few men and have been intimate with none of them. I couldn't.
Nor did I want to."

"But with you I feel ..." she let that hang around them and held
him tightly. "... With you I want to try. I've   we've   taken
this slowly. And that's helped. I think I'm ready to take the
next step. I just need you to know that I might pull back and
why. I'm not asking for a "lived happily forever" commitment, but
I need to know if you're willing to take this as slowly as I need
to."

As way of answer, he lifted her chin and looking into her eyes
kissed her with great passion. 'Yes,' she thought. And as she
returned his kiss, slid her hand down to his groin and felt his
cock. It felt large and it grew even larger in her hand.

'Hmmm,' she thought and slid her tongue into his mouth. 'Maybe I
am ready.'


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