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  “Does he like my hair?” Daniela’s voice became coy. Steve almost laughed. He wanted to walk over and tear the blindfold off Daniela’s face. Come on, man, this is crazy! Let’s go out for a beer or something!

  “Yes he does. And your pretty toes and fingernails. He loves how prettily you’ve made yourself up. And you know what else he likes?”

  “What?” Daniela quavered.

  Julie’s voice turned cold. “Your ass. He told me he wants to see it flogged until it’s a lovely cherry red. Stand up.”

  She led Daniela to a tall X-shaped stand in one corner and bound his hands to the upper bars of the X. He stood with his back to Steven, displaying a second, intricate tattoo just above his ass.

  Jesus Christ, he’s got a tramp stamp…

  Julie selected a flogger from the assortment hanging on the wall. As she passed Steven, she gave him a quick, blank look. He returned it as best he was able. When Julie’s eyes flashed down to his crotch, he blushed.

  “I’m not fucking turned on by this…” he hissed, but Julie was already back at the X-frame, aiming a series of sharp blows with the flogger on Daniela’s ass. It didn’t quite turn “cherry red”—Daniela was too dark complexioned. Steve suspected he barely felt the flogger striking him. But Daniela twisted and writhed on the frame like a soul in Hell, whining and gasping.

  “Oh, Daniela,” Julie said, booming the words out between lashes. “Oh, your man just loves your ass. What’s that? You want me to hit her harder?”

  “God,” Steve muttered.

  It went on for some time. When Julie finally let him off the frame, Daniela did seem slightly the worse for wear. He limped as he was led to the bondage table, and whined as he climbed up and stretched out on his back.

  Within moments Julie had him strapped down hand and foot. Steve caught her eye and tapped his watch. How much longer? She nodded, then shook her head, glancing once at Daniela’s cock, which stood up like an accusing finger. Not long now.

  There was some more words to the effect that Steve liked seeing “his girl” tied up and helpless, that he found the sight of her “big clit” in particular sexy as hell. Daniela was subjected to a few more lashes around the groin. Then Julie untied his right hand.

  Steve sighed. Almost over. Thank God.

  “There, sweetie. There’s your man. There he is, watching you.”

  With that, Julie took the blindfold off. Daniela blinked, then craned his head upward and looked at Steve. Steve kept his face deadpan, much as he would have liked to laugh at the whole thing.

  Then, using his freed right hand, not once looking away from Steve, Daniela took hold of his cock and began jerking off.

  Steve was horrified.

  “You said there wasn’t…you said…”

  “Did I? What did I say, exactly?”

  You said no body fluids, Steve thought. But if he called her on that she could just laugh at him. He had an idea the fact that said fluids were spilled by Daniela’s own hand meant they somehow didn’t count.

  Daniela continued jerking off, his eyes locked on Steve’s. Steve found he couldn’t look away; something about the whole scene compelled him to keep looking.

  Is this guy into me or something? Like he wants me to take him out and give him flowers…or fuck him? Or does he want to fuck me?

  Julie stood behind Daniela, stroking his hair and making shushing noises. Suddenly Daniela’s face softened and white jetted from his cock, splattering his leg and the black leather of the table.

  “God,” Daniela whispered, finally shut his eyes. “That was good. That was freaking awesome.”

  “Good,” Julie said, tenderly stroking his forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up, huh?” She began undoing the shackle on his other hand. She looked up at Steve and jerked her head towards the door.

  The look said, clear as day, You can go now. Your services are no longer required.

  Something in Steve half-expected Daniela to beg him to stay…or was it that he wanted that to happen.

  No. No, fuck it. Fuck it, I’m out of here.

  Numbly, he stumbled out of the room, and out of the house.

  ***

  Julie didn’t answer her phone when Steve called later, and he didn’t leave a message. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to talk to her anyway. He had nothing to say to her.

  She was nuts. She had turned into a man-hating psycho who wanted all men to be women. It wasn’t his fault. He’d tried to do the right thing, and she’d made him complicit with her madness.

  Rain began later that evening. Steve had thought about going for a drink, but the rain shitcanned that idea. Instead he lay on the hotel bed, stroking himself through his underwear. He thought of a girl with long hair being fucked. The girl had a tramp stamp and a jagged tattoo around her neck. He was the one doing the fucking, but gradually he changed that to Julie.

  The girl cried out when she came. So did Steve.

  About Colin

  Colin is a Virginia-based erotica writer with a special interest in fetish-based material. For many years he has produced tickling fiction for MTJ Publishing, including the ebooks Captured by Amazons, Bad Girls, Torture of the Caress and the three-volume Laughing Boys series. He has also scripted a number of comics for MTJ, including the highly successful Lexi and Tammi the Tickle Witch series. He blogs at gigglegasm.com.

  Professional Help

  By Penelope Street

  Claudia hesitated as she read the white painted letters on the door: Dr. Henry Stuart, M.D., Ph.D., and then the single word beneath that ricocheted throughout her brain: Psychiatrist. She wanted to reach for the handle, but her hand declined to move.

  For years she had suspected she might need professional help; her closest friends had echoed that opinion on more than one occasion. Now only one hand and one door stood between her and a chance for a normal life. She dropped her brow and her gaze.

  I do want a normal life, don't I?

  With a firm lip, Claudia forced her treasonous fingers to the handle, threw the door wide, and strode into the office beyond. Marching to the receptionist's desk, she glanced at the nameplate before looking to the woman behind. "Hello Jenny," she began, "I'm Claudia Burns. I believe I have an appointment for two o'clock but I'm meant to fill out some paperwork before then."

  The receptionist flashed a civil smile and reaching for a clipboard and a pen. "Yes, ma'am. If you'll please have a seat on the couch and fill these out. Dr. Stuart's one o'clock rescheduled, so he can see you as soon as you are finished."

  Claudia nodded and accepted the clipboard. Muttering a token, "Thank you," she examined the paperwork on her way to the sofa where began the monotonous task of filling out the short stack of forms.

  A quarter-hour later, she returned to the receptionist.

  "Finished?" Jenny inquired.

  "Yep," Claudia acknowledged with a shallow nod, extending the hand bearing the clipboard.

  "Ok, then." Jenny accepted the paperwork. "I'll give these to Dr. Stuart. Please have a seat."

  Claudia returned to the sofa.

  Another fifteen minutes passed before the receptionist summoned her, "Miss Burns?"

  Claudia rose. "Yes?"

  Jenny flashed an innocent smile. "Dr. Stuart will see you now. Right through that door."

  Claudia's confidence wavered again as she turned to face the mahogany panel that stood between her and the doctor. Am I really going to see a shrink? Am I really crazy? Only one way to find out. With the same firm lip, she barged through the portal.

  Henry Stuart stood and greeted his incoming patient with a raised brow and a civil smile. "Good afternoon, Miss Burns."

  Claudia eyed the doctor. He certainly didn't look like a psychiatrist to her. The man was younger than she had expected, tall and lanky too, with a curly mop of dirty blonde hair. His coat didn't match his trousers and neither fit better than the other. He looked much more like Bob Dylan than Bob Newhart.

  "Good afternoon, Doctor," she replied with a
polite bob of her head.

  "You prefer the chair, or the couch," Dr. Stuart asked, motioning to both seats.

  Claudia's eyes darted to the black leather sofa and the matching chair. "Isn't the couch the traditional place for the patient?"

  "Yes, Miss Burns, but I believe in doing things because they work, not because everyone else does them. Perhaps that's one of the reasons I have been successful in curing every one of my patients."

  "Every one?"

  Henry flashed a closed-mouth grin. "One hundred percent."

  The woman smiled and nodded. "I'll take the chair then. And do call me Claudia."

  Henry picked up his clipboard and strolled to the sofa before lying down as if he was the patient. "Now," Henry began, "As I understand it, you've a history of being abused by your spouses. Correct?"

  "Yes and no." Claudia replied. "You see, I am attracted to men who treat me in ways most women do not wish to be treated, that much is true, but I enjoy it." She shook her head in a slow, wobbly motion. "I mean, can you really call it abuse if you enjoy it?"

  "But you do want this pattern of behavior to stop?"

  "Yes," Claudia replied. "I want to quit enjoying it."

  "Why do you want to quit enjoying it?"

  "Well," Claudia's brow fell as she paused. "I'm not supposed to like it, right? I mean there is something wrong with me; isn't there?"

  "Ordinarily, one would think so," said Henry, "but wrong is really such a vague term, isn't it? Perhaps we should look into why you enjoy this treatment and then perhaps we can discover how you might change your outlook."

  Claudia issued another shallow nod. "Ok."

  "Tell me about your parents," Dr. Stuart instructed. "Were they overly strict?"

  Claudia shook her head at once. "No. Quite the opposite. I can't remember either of them ever even yelling at me, much less laying a hand upon me. They spoiled me and doted on me in every way."

  "You were well-off then?"

  "Very much so," Claudia replied. "And they still help me out. Without them, I couldn't afford to be here."

  "So your parents were overprotective?"

  "Very."

  "And how did you respond to that? Especially during the teenage years."

  "Oh, I was a rather bad teenager." Claudia paused to release a large sigh. "I tried smoking and drinking, and even took a drag on a marijuana cig once. And I had sex with three different men before I was twenty."

  Henry tried, and failed, to suppress a grin. "Three partners before marriage might have qualified as promiscuous a generation ago during the Eisenhower administration, but it's hardly unusual today and a little ordinary teenage experimentation certainly doesn't make anyone a bad person. To hear you tell it, I would think you a fairly normal youngster."

  "You wouldn't have thought so to listen to my parents," Claudia replied.

  The doctor raised his brow. "Your parents yelled at you then?"

  "I already told you they didn't. But they scolded me just the same."

  Henry set the clipboard on his chest and clasped his hands across his abdomen. "I see. Go on. Tell me more about how your parents reacted to your normal teenage rebellion and experimentation. Every detail that comes to mind."

  "Everything?"

  "Yes. If your brain recorded it, it did so for a reason."

  Claudia's head moved in a nod. She then continued to relate the history of her adolescence until the hands on her watch told her that her hour was at an end. "Do you think we got anywhere, Doctor?" she inquired while she was gathering her things. "I don't feel any different."

  Henry stood and straightened his suit. "We shouldn't expect to make any real progress for several sessions. It takes at least that long to establish a rapport and begin to understand what makes you tick."

  "Oh," Claudia smiled. "I know what makes me tick. That's the problem."

  Dr. Stuart returned the smile. "Ok. We'll maybe focus a little more on that next time. Do make an appointment with the receptionist for next week."

  "That long?" Claudia queried.

  Henry nodded. "A week is typically a good amount of time between sessions. Allows us both to absorb and consider things, but isn't long enough for us to forget much."

  "I see." Claudia replied in a near whisper. "Well, thank you, Doctor. See you next week."

  ***

  Henry Stuart passed the following week in a completely forgettable fashion and entered his next meeting with Miss Burns the same way he had exited the previous one, confident that a simple self-esteem issue was the source of the dilemma. He figured he had but to make the lovely lady aware of her own worth and she would soon solve her own problems.

  "Do you still prefer the chair?" Henry asked as his patient entered the office.

  "Yes," said Claudia. "If you don't mind."

  "Not at all," replied Dr. Stuart, reclining once again on the sofa. "I believe last time we discussed your relationship with your parents."

  "That's correct."

  "This time, I'd like to focus on your first marriage. There have been two, correct?"

  "Yes," replied Claudia. "Two."

  "Tell me about the first one."

  "Daniel was in the army," Claudia related. "He was quite a jerk, really. Treated me very respectable in public, but at home he was always slapping me and telling me how useless I was. And when he was drinking, which was often, well, then he was really mean."

  "What attracted you to Daniel in the first place?"

  Claudia put her fingers to her lips and turned her eyes upward. "I don't really know. He was really nice to me at first, so it's hard so say what attracted to him. He didn't show his nasty streak until after we were married."

  Dr. Stuart twitched his lips as he tried to digest what the young lady had really just said. "So there was nothing about him that you found initially attractive?"

  "He had a nice ass."

  Henry nodded and shifted his own ass to a different place on the sofa. "How long were you together?"

  "Four years."

  "Who terminated the relationship?"

  "I did."

  "Why?"

  "Because he could never seem to get it through his head that I wasn't mad at him for what he did when he was drunk, or when he was sober—for that matter."

  "So you weren't upset with the way he treated you when he was intoxicated?"

  "No," Claudia insisted with a shake of her head. "More like why he treated me that way. And because he was always apologizing. Plus the sex was pretty lame."

  "Why was the sex unsatisfactory?"

  "Because he didn't excite me much when he was sober and he was never interested—or good—when he was drunk."

  "I see," said Dr. Stuart. "And how did that make you feel about yourself."

  "I felt fine," Claudia professed. "He's the messed up one. He needs two women, a pretty one for in public, and a spineless one for at home."

  "And which of those women were you unwilling to be?"

  Claudia paused. "Neither, I suppose. Yet I could have been both and been very happy."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean that I'd have been perfectly content pretending to be a proper wife in public if he'd have only given me what I wanted in private."

  "Sounds like he did just that; treated you nice in public and not so nice in private," Dr. Stuart noted. "So what didn't work for you about that situation?"

  Claudia considered the question for the better part of a minute. "I guess it was that he didn't respect me for who I was."

  "How did he not respect you?"

  "By not understanding what I wanted," Claudia said. "And giving it to me freely. When he did give me what I wanted, it was by coincidence, because he was an asshole. He didn't do it because he loved me."

  Dr. Stuart raised his brow and blinked a couple times in succession. "I see," he said at last, though it was something of a fib. "So then what? How long before you married again?"

  "One hundred and sixteen days."

&nb
sp; "One hundred and sixteen days?"

  "Yes."

  "I see," the doctor lied again, more confused than ever. "Ok. Tell me about your second husband."

  "Oh, George was the perfect gentleman. He always treated me like a lady."

  "And what attracted you to George?"

  "Nothing," Claudia declared. "My friends all said he was such a good catch and I believed them. He probably would have been, for anyone else. In fact, he is; for someone else."

  "So why did you leave George?"

  "I didn't," said Claudia. "He left me for his cute little secretary."

  "Were you angry about this betrayal?"

  "No." Claudia sighed. "She was nice too, perfectly right for him."

  "So you didn't hate either one of them?"

  "No," said Claudia. "I'm happy George found someone that could make him happy; and someone he could make happy."

  "Did George cheat on you with the secretary?"

  "Yes," Claudia replied. "And no."

  "What do you mean?"

  "He fucked her, yes," Claudia related. "But he told me about it first."

  "So he asked your permission?"

  "Not exactly. He confessed he was attracted to her. I suggested he see if she felt the same way. And when she did, I told him I wanted him to have sex with her."

  Dr. Stuart lifted his brow. "You did?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  Claudia shrugged. "Why not?"

  "So you suggested this for the sake of your husband's happiness?"

  "I'm not sure."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well," Claudia sighed. "I had some silly fantasies about having sex with both of them."

  "Really?"

  "Yes."

  "What did you hope would happen?"

  "In my wildest fantasies, I would serve both of them. I often masturbated while imagining I was licking her pussy while he fucked her and that when he pulled..." Claudia's eyes widened as she turned them from the ceiling back to her doctor. Her smile vanished. "Is it inappropriate to be so graphic?"