The Interrogator - Page 29

With lungs recovering air I scramble back to all fours. Another kick lands on my buttocks. It is of minor force, a playful kick. Mae Lee is demonstrating her prowess, sending a message which I quickly understand.

While she practices her karate, I will act as living punching bag. Absorbing the moderately powerful blows with full knowledge that any one of them could break a bone, crack a rib, shatter a joint... if she so intends. It becomes clear that my skeletal frame remains intact at her caprice.

So I crawl about absorbing her power, her authority. Around and around. Kick after kick. I would like to pause and admire her form but cannot.

Yes, the message is received. The cane is merely to amuse her in that its searing strokes can make the clumsy desire to dance like a ballerina.

But the powerful and well trained hands and feet are that to which I will ultimately answer.

I will obey Mae Lee because she is of superior strength and ferocity. The woman is truly physically dominant.

Chapter Twenty-Five

I never realized what suffering could be caused by objects as simple as six inch lengths of wooden tubes, shaped like dowels, and rope, lots of rope.

After much crawling and many kicks, Mae Lee tires and decides to demonstrate her knowledge of Shibari, Japanese rope bondage.

She has me hogtied and has done so in such a manner that pressure, tension and resulting agony can slowly be induced at her whim. And then she wants me to balance. I lie tummy down, my hips resting on the narrow edge of a plank. If I tip forward or back, chest or knees gently fall some six to eight inches to the floor. Not of significant consequence except that Mae Lee considers such movement to be insubordinate and such disobedience earns tightening, painful tightening of adjusting ropes tethering arms, thighs and ankles.

“You stay,” she admonishes after much futile struggling to remain balanced.

The dowels are devilishly designed. One is pressed against my upper lip, just under my nostrils. A rope is threaded through its hollowness and leads left and right past my ears and back to my toes where it is tied off. The tension forces my head back and with legs bent my ankles are secured just above the small of my back, toes pointed toward the back of my head. Similar dowels are tucked behind each knee. With lengths of adjustable ropes looped from ankle to the top of each thigh to hold my legs bent, the inserted dowels act as levers. Tighten the looped ropes, stretch the ligaments and tendons in the knees. Mae Lee has cleverly inserted an adjusting rod within each loop so she can slowly twist and tighten. The resulting tension, slowly applied, is excruciating.

My arms have similar dowels at the elbows with looped ropes securing wrists to my upper arms. As with the knees, the ligaments and tendons of the elbows can likewise be levered.

All in all, the cruel woman has my fullest attention in trying to balance on the plank. It is only some two inches wide, and with all the rope bondage, I cannot move discernibly. But, I am learning discipline in that slight muscle movements will tend to shift my weight ever so slightly and cause me to tip. Those muscle movements are not permitted. And Mae Lee is teaching me such. She insists that I lie with knees spread to properly display my genitals. That adds difficulty since toes both right and left are tied together and linked to my nose dowel.

Though pushing outwards with my knees, I must remain perfectly motionless, otherwise I tip. And in punishment, various ropes are tightened to administer pain, thus dissuading me of the crass insubordination of moving. How diabolical!

And the woman is relentless. I have three times become unbalanced and Mae Lee has three times tightened, ignoring my pleas. Then she displays her inordinate strength by propping me back onto the board to begin again.

Meanwhile, I gaze upon her commanding pulchritude. Only the most feminine of Mae’s charms are covered, mons and breasts, and in a most suggestive manner. Most of her impressive physique is exposed, and I strangely begin to both covet her beauty and enjoy the totality of her power, her control. It is so consuming... so complete.

And so as I learn to balance, I feel myself stiffening. Something about the evil bonds causes my loins to ignore the pain and celebrate, to salute my superior. Mae Lee notices and smiles knowingly.

“You good boy. You enjoy.”

She steps to my side and I feel her bare toes first jiggle my scrotum then abrade my stiffening shaft, fostering quicker engorgement. She has me, she owns me, she knows it, she enjoys it.

I remain balanced, finally learning to relax. ‘Let the woman control, do not struggle,’ I convince myself. ‘Only more tension and pain can result.’

I wonder if this is what it was like for those prisoners who found themselves in that gynecological chair back in the Bangkok jail. After weeks and weeks of torment, finally learning to cede all to the woman in charge, giving up all that a male has to offer except life itself. Humbly sitting while the quick scalpel-wielding hand of a woman works to alter, to change his life.

What were the words of my friend? ‘Presto!.. a changed life. Completely modified behavior.’

How could it happen? How could a robust male so capitulate?

I am beginning to understand.

“I see Mae Lee has you nicely stretched. Enjoy your exercise?”

It is the smooth and taunting voice of Miss Denise. I cannot see her. She has quietly entered through the doorway to my rear.

“Such a nice afternoon. Warm for late November. I decided to visit the Morgan Library. A fascinating exhibition of thirteenth century etchings.

“You have apparently been enjoying Mae Lee’s company.”

She laughs in obvious reference to my raging erection.

Tags: Chris Bellows Mystery
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