The Interrogator

Yes, Sue worked me as one would train an animal, testing my reaction and obedience in all the secretive places and all the different positions where she previously had me masturbate for her.

Never again was I to insult a woman by haphazardly climaxing. If Kate were to unexpectedly interrupt a furtive rendezvous, there would be no nasty display of male ejaculate without Sue’s commanding signal... ‘One, two, three’ and the sharp single clap.

As I lie in the soothing tub I can hear the distinctive sound. She curved her hands so the palms met to create a sharp crack, like a cap gun. One could not normally applaud in such a manner. The hands would smart after just two or three attempts.

So subsequent afternoon escapades always concluded with me climaxing on cue, to Sue’s coaxing count. And she became quite the coquette, sometimes slowly vocalizing the numbers and delaying the clap, watching with a smile as I writhed in tantalizing suspense, holding back until her hands met to create the satisfying smack and spur my explosion. Had Sue been reading about Pavlov?

I resolve to inform Miss Denise of the overlooked details of the encounters, if given an opportunity. Recent weekends on her seventh floor have been comprised of much sensory deprivation and little verbal exchange. But the regimen does make me very eager to talk when permitted communication.

I sleep. I arise on Friday and work. At 6:00 p.m. I again surrender myself to the seventh floor of 209 Prince Street. I impale myself on the chair, encircle my neck with the collar, don the headphones, slip on the hood. Mae Lee enters to strap me down and the cycles begin. Systemized, mechanical, precise, cruel. I think of Nurse Emma’s long past comment about the frequency of livestock being given a reprieve at the slaughterhouse. It does not happen and so I must endure.

Sometime on Saturday, Mae Lee Walks me. I am once again exposed to the torment of her strength, being placed in various wrestling holds, subjected to powerful karate kicks, arms and legs inordinately twisted and stretched in ways thought impossible. Then, I again perform for her in balancing ad nauseam on the plank. On this visit, I am tummy down with arms and feet stretched straight out and well spread, forced to maintain the pose seemingly for hours. She so enjoys tapping my free swinging testicles.

Miss Denise does not choose to interview me and I become concerned that another weekend stay will end with me resting on the whipping bench and no verbal contact other than Mae Lee’s terse commands.

Finally, after being returned to the chair for what I perceive to be most of Sunday, I feel the anal insertion deflate and the interminable hissing of the headphones ceases. All four straps are loosened and whereas it is good to be released, I know that I am to be caned. With every visit my rejoice comes with a price.

The control rod snaps onto my collar. To Mae Lee’s commands, I slowly stand and once again I crawl for her, hooded with her nasty cane correctively tapping away on buttocks and balls.

Up and down the hallway, sensation returns to arms and legs along with flexibility. Then we proceed through a doorway and the padded floor tells me we

are in Miss Denise’s discipline chamber.

“It’s time, Bobby,” Miss Denise’s firm and melodic voice fills my ears.

In place of the white noise, the headphones reproduce her voice, apparently speaking into a microphone. Is she nearby?

Mae Lee leads me to the whipping bench and I begin to tremble. Despite the numerous canings one never acclimates to the intense pain. Each episode instead causes to build new fear and apprehension.

I lie as directed and oddly my scrotum is not strapped. I find myself reflecting on the first time I experienced the strange freedom of lying with hands and feet free. In Bangkok, I could not fight the urge to play with myself, though the whipmistress quickly disavowed me of so doing.

Mae Lee unsnaps and whisks away my hood. My eyes adjust to see the amazingly conditioned woman busying herself at a cabinet. She is once again nearly naked, with a black leather halter leaving arms and shoulders bare, boots removed and a thong-like garment which does not cover an inch of her finely shaped buttocks.

“Tonight a little anal stimulation, Bobby. You’ll find Mae Lee to be quite accomplished.”

Miss Denise’s voice fills my head. She is not present, speaking to me through the headphones, which remain in place. But I am sure she is watching by way of hidden cameras.

Mae Lee turns and for one of the few times I can recall she outright smiles... an evil smile. She holds up a lengthy dildo, ribbed with numerous bulges. She approaches and though petrified, I cannot help adoring her form. The thong does not even cover much of her well trimmed pubes and though frightened, I marvel as her feminine pinkness momentarily flashes.

“You must excuse Mae Lee’s enthusiasm for the strap-on, Bobby. Some very bad experiences in Thailand when she was younger. Seems her first sexual experience was with a Caucasian male such as you. For Mae Lee this is retribution time. Just as she was used, she will now use you. I suggest you relax and let her take care of you. She’s quite good.”

Mae Lee makes a show of the sizable dildo, holding it before me for inspection. Designed to first challenge the rectum, then abrade the prostate, there are clever protuberances for the female wearer which I am sure will spur Mae Lee to orgasm after orgasm as the cylinder painfully marauds and frictions my anus. I gulp reactively as she slips the implement under her thong... really a dildo harness. The business end protrudes ominously and Mae Lee smiles as she wriggles her hips to slip her end between her nether lips. Then her hands reach out to cradle my face. Her fingers are moist, and I can smell the traces of her arousal.

Why I do not move, I cannot understand. Nothing secures me to the bench as I kneel on the sloped surface, head low, buttocks high, knees well spread by rote. But after weeks of being subjected to Mae Lee’s control, the tight bondage, sensing the power of her hands, the forceful karate kicks, the incessant taps of her cane, I find myself helplessly lying in wait, willing to let her have her way. I am a virgin meekly lying spread, about to sacrifice my virtue.

She pats my head and moves to my rear. Fingers glide about my gluteal cleft, adding unguent to a rectum well lubricated by the chair’s anal insertion.

“Do try to please her, Bobby. Squeeze with her rhythm. There are some well designed nubs for the female wearer. Make Mae Lee happy.”

“Arms out... like for caning,” my tormentress pleasantly suggests.

And as I comply, I feel the tip of the rubber phallus part my cheeks, briefly rub about in search of my aperture and then gently press my purse string muscle.

I am to be sodomized and Miss Denise is correct, Mae Lee is quite accomplished. She has obviously reamed many helpless males.

The rubber stiffness slowly continues to glide inward. I groan then I feel the front of Mae Lee’s hips greet my bottom cheeks. She leans forward and I feel the warmth of her naked flesh press against my back.

She has removed her halter! But for the dildo harness, she is entirely naked.