Fate

This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.

Those wishing to send Mistress Jytte E-mail can do so by sending it to me
and I will forward it directly to her.



                               "Fate"


                                 by

                            Mistress Jytte

                                 &

                               Musker



                              (Part 1)


                             "Memories"


"They said she had it all in the palm of her hands. Youth, beauty,
intelligence, style and an ambition to win that made all else seem non-
existent. She was the perfect driven athlete. Up before dawn for the ritual
stretching and endurance exercises to keep her perfect body in perfect
form. Then college classes lasting most of the day where she kept her
perfect 4.00 grade point average. And again, for the rest of the day and a
good part of the evening, she practiced long and hard on her perfect
gymnastic routine for the up and coming Olympics.

She gave all of them her very best effort, the floor exercise, the uneven
parallel bars and the vault. All three requiring intense concentration for
perfect execution, because within each was that one element of danger. That
one essential sequence that if preformed correctly, would make her a gold
medal winner. And if not, . . . .

Then it happened. A dip in her concentration, a lost grip and a spotter who
was not paying attention when she should have.

They all came running, the other athletes, the coaches, the paramedics, the
hospital. They were all there in a flash to help her, the driven athlete
and the next gold medal winner.

And they all told her, promised her even, that she was going to be as good
as new and not to give up on her Olympic dream. But they all lied, except
the doctors. They told her the truth, even though she didn't want to hear
it.

Then came the finger pointers, the accusations, the experts, the lawyers,
the courts and finally the judgement. In the end she was a very rich young
woman in a wheel chair. And the spotter, well, those in the know said it
was a terrible accident and not her fault. So the spotter kept her job with
the college. She was a tiny bit mournful deep in her heart, but in the end
nothing changed for her.

But for the one who had it all in the palm of her hands, she tried. She
dropped out of college to devote all her energies into making herself whole
again. More doctors, more hope and more disappointment. When she was at the
end of her rope, she called me.

By some, I have been called a miracle worker. But not in any religious
connection that is. I just get results where most people have failed. Nor
do I have a 100% successful rate either. Just enough to pay the bills and
put a little away for a rainy day. After all, a girl has to look out for
herself too you know.

Now don't jump to conclusions. I am not one of those slight of hand con
artists feasting on the broken lives of those in need, like some drooling
vulture over a dying road kill. I am a professional! A certified nurse and
physical therapist. And to those that I had the pleasure of dispensing my
healing ways too, they gratefully called me their "Angel of Mercy" or a
"God send." And if truth be known, to those whom have not obtained such
glorious, positive results, through no fault of my own, they have nick
named me something different, like "Bitch" or "Bull Dyke" or the most
dramatic "Sadistic Bitch in White".

I kind of like that last one. Although I would prefer to be called
"Mistress Lisa". Mmmmmmm, I love to be called Mistress. It gets me all
excited and aroused, especially between my . . . Now don't misunderstand
me! I am not one of those Mistresses who is a kept woman for some rich guy
cheating on his wife, because old wifee' won't give him head. No, no, no, I
am certainly not one of those types. I am the other kind of Mistress, the
dominant kind. The one with a superior caustic attitude and an ever present
craving to be satisfied, sexually. And of course there is this little
nagging desire of mine to be the instrument of another's, how shall I say
it, distress? That is why I am a nurse and physical therapist. I love
putting women, young beautiful sexy women I might add, through hell, as I
bring them back slowly to their normal self again. All be it with a
slightly submissive kink ingrained in their psyche now.

Oh, in case your wondering. I only work on women. Which given my lesbian
predisposition is quite understandable, don't you think?

So, when I first received a call from Anna, the ruined athlete, I was all
tickled pink. I simply love the feel of firm flesh under a soft smooth
skin. Those powder puff girly girls are all right for awhile, but give me a
woman who takes pride in the strength of her body and I am in erotic
heaven. Of course, one can go too far in the other direction too. My
goodness, those muscle bound women with bodies like men are one major turn
off for me. I can't tell you how often I have turned down those types of
neurotic obsessed women on a regular basis.

But I think what is at the heart of it all is the contrast. A mixture of
the powder puff and the muscle bound. With not too much of the one, nor
too little of the other. A young woman who is all so naturally feminine
with soft flowing curves, angelic like features and beautiful supple
breasts. While at the same time having some gamey meat to her bones that I
can grab, squeeze and smack around if I want. And endurance? Yes! Staying
power, for those long, physically draining, and best orgasm producing
sessions that I have ever experienced in my entire life. Oh yes! If any
woman had all that going for her, I dare say I would become her virtual
slave, euphemistically speaking that is. And when I first met Anna, she was
just that type of woman.

It seemed like love at first sight. Well, for me it was. We where both of
the same generation with her being in her early twenties while I was in the
later part of mine. She didn't wear any makeup that I could see, which made
her flawless Mediterranean like features all that more intensely attractive
to me. I on the other hand am forced to use only a little coloring. Just
enough to give me that professional look that I must present to the general
public at all times.

When we first met she was sitting in her wheel chair with her body
completely covered in a comfortable sweat suit. And even with that shape
shielding garment, I could see she was still keeping up with some limited
amounted of exercising. I for one have never faltered in my daily routine
of stretching and aerobics. It is exactly what I need to keep myself in top
physical shape. Not to mention being a little more limber than most, for
those close, tight, body to body situations that us professional health
care givers sometimes find ourselves in with our patients.

I can remember that first day like it was yesterday. I presented myself to
her with all due friendly professionalism at her home. And she returned it
with a delightful, warm and inviting response, even to the point of
offering me some tea and biscuits. Considering all that she had been
through, especially at the fumbling hands of my fellow health care givers,
I was amazed to see how pleasantly optimistic her disposition was. Right
then and there I knew it was going to be a joy training her, I mean, making
her physically better.

Our first meeting had it's usual get acquainted period with me informing
her of my professional credentials and her giving me her medical history.
After that, I politely told her to disrobe so I could do a preliminary
physical examination of her present condition. She hesitated a little,
which caused me to remind her that I was a state certified medical
professional and that there was no need to feel embarrassed in my presence.
And that was exactly what she was too, embarrassed, as her redden cheeks
were an obvious testament to. But she soon began removing her clothes, once
she turned away from me that is.

Her reluctance to disrobe in front of me was very suspicious. It indicated
to me that she was not comfortable appearing nude before another woman. Now
THAT was strange! Particularly for such a lovely young woman like Anna and
given her long athletic background. She no doubt was required to change
clothes in locker rooms teaming with other nude and semi-nude enticing
nymphettes. And then there must have been a large number of older female
coaches and doctors looking at her nude form while they remained dressed in
front of her like I was. So removing her clothes in front of another
female, a professional health care worker no less, shouldn't have been a
problem, unless! To quote the immortal Shakespear, "Me thinks the lady doth
protest too much".

There had to be something there, lurking deep inside of her. A curiosity, a
desire, perhaps even a need? But at the same time something was telling
her, commanding her, NO! A barrier, an impasse, a dilemma existed between
what her body was aching for and what her mind was screaming at her that
was wrong to do. That's when I knew I had my work cut out for me. Not only
was Anna's body in serious need of my services, but so was her mind. She
needed someone, an authority figure, to tell her it was not wrong to want
what her mind told her she could not have. And at the same time she needed
someone who had the talent and experience to give her body what it
longingly craved for. She needed a mentor, a seductress, to set her lesbian
desires free and to see to it that all of them were completely and totally
satisfied. She needed ME!

Well, maybe not quite the "sadistic bitch in white" that she was about to
receive. But then, as the French would say, "C'est la vie!"

I watched with hungry eyes as Anna removed her sweat suit. Her legs were
not completely disabled. The doctors were able to make them functional
again. She was just limited to the amount of time she could stand on them
before the intense back pain returned her to the wheel chair. When she
finally did remove her sweat suit she just stood there with her back to me
in her virgin white bra and panties. She appeared as a beautiful immaculate
vision to my eyes, a virginal icon in white undies. I had to take hold of
a piece of furniture to steady myself, before I approached her, as a result
of her loveliness on my awestruck famished soul.

I just stood there silently behind her, ogling her superb feminine shape.
Once in awhile she would turn her head to the left, then to the right,
trying to see what I might be doing behind her. Her coyness was such a turn
on for me that I wanted to take her right then, and bury my salivating
pussy all over her cute tongue licking face. But I maintained my
professional repose. There was still a long way to go before that
particular fantasy could come to fruit.

I still remembered her words to me this very day when she was the first to
break the silence between us.

"Ok, I have taken off my sweats. Is this the way you want me?"

My god, that last sentence "Is this the way you want me?" And the way she
said it, with so much childish innocence and gullibility. Frankly, I began
to wonder if she wasn't some sort of con artist at heart. And if she wasn't
the one trying to bait me, to seduce her, to take her, to fuck the living
life out of her. But then, it was probably my own wishful thinking trying
to crack the surface of my professional sobriety at the time. Either way, I
had to play it by the book. For this was a critical point for me. I had to
correctly set the basic framework of our relationship right off the bat.
For what happened next would foretell what the future would be like between
Anna and myself.

So I responded in a short direct matter of fact tone.

"No it is not."

I wanted my authority, my professionalism and my dominance to be the first
thing that Anna was exposed to while she was exposing herself to me.

But at the same time, I didn't want to alienate her either. So I stepped up
behind her, placed my hands gently on her strong shoulders and then
continued with my reply to her. But this time in a compassionate, motherly
kind of tone.

"I know how hard it is for you Anna. All that you have gone through, the
pain, the disappointment. All those unfamiliar people looking at you as if
you were nothing but a broken unfeeling object or a piece of butchered
meat. And although I am a professional and must sometimes act accordingly,
I am also a caring and feeling human being too. So I can empathize with
your situation my dear. Exposing yourself like this, in your own home, and
to a complete stranger, can be a most distressing time for anyone. But I am
here for you Anna. To try my VERY best to make your life better, in all
ways possible. And to do it in a manner that does not threaten your
dignity as a human being or your sensuous femininity. So if you will Anna,
please, let me make this easier for you. Will you do that for me dear? Let
me help you?"

And that is how it begins with all my patients. I gain their trust by
empathizing with their condition and then telling them that their well
being is the center focus of my entire life. Nothing else is as important
to me as they are. And everything that follows goes to support this main
premise, be it emotional, mental or physical in nature. In short, I seduce
them, inspire them, and basically make them fall in love with me. I
cunningly play with their minds and emotions until they are virtually
dependent on me for their entire well being. Once that happens, they really
have no choice but to fall in love with me. I simply fuck with their minds
and emotions until their bodies follow shortly behind, like little puppy
dogs at the end of their Mistress's leash. And with some patients I have
literally done just that.

So I eagerly waited for Anna's response. Her reply would determine if I had
a chance with her or if this was just one of those rare times that I would
not be successful and thus have to end this most promising relationship
before it even got started. And then it came.

"Ummm, yes, sure Lisa. You can help me. Thank you."

Excellent! The first hurdle was successfully executed. Now came the test to
see how fast I could take Anna down that path of complete subservience to
my will.

"Very good Anna." I replied with a happy sound in my voice while I massaged
her shoulders with my hands. Oh it felt so good to feel her firm flesh at
the beginning of my domination of her.

"Now put your hands on top of that table! You can transfer some of your
weight to your arms and ease the strain on your back and legs while I exam
you."

Once more my voice was commanding and direct like a dominating Mistress
should be. But this time I threw in a reason why I ordered her to do so.
Again, it goes back to my main premise. As long as I give my patients the
impression that what I am telling them to do is all for their own good,
then they will follow my commands without question. Unless of course I hit
upon a touchy area. Then I will follow it up with a tender and more caring
explanation that pulls at their emotions and reminds them why I am there to
begin with, which is to make them better. Either way, sooner or later, I
will reach a point when an explanation is no longer needed. And THAT will
mark a major turning point. For then they will be ready for more intimate
commands and contact from me.

When Anna was in position I was ready for the next step. I thought about
pushing it a bit by doing it first and then seeing if she would respond to
it unfavorably. I was so eager to get Anna under my dominating thumb that I
almost made just that kind of mistake. For it was still too early in our
relationship to push things. Not to mention that the contract designating
me as her primary health care giver, among other things, had yet to be
signed. So I continued to play it by the rules and take it slowly, one
small step at a time. A small investment now will pay off with big
dividends in the future.

"Anna, I am going to remove your bra and panties now. I know you're a bit
skittish about it, but I need to see you completely nude in order for my
examination of you to be thorough and accurate. And that's what you want
from me my dear. To be thorough and accurate, correct?"

I then began stroking her silky smooth black hair, as if we were very close
caring friends. This was a big jump. First off, she could easily respond
that she would do it herself. Which would tell me that I had a long way to
go in acclimating her to my will. On the other hand, if she did allow me to
remove her underwear, as well as to continue stroking her hair like I was,
then I would have validated a very important first contact. Something that
I could rapidly build upon in conquering her spirit and body in short
order.

As I stood quietly behind her, petting her head, I could feel "it" inside
of her. Her hesitation in thinking it over. Her inner conflict, between her
mind and body. My continued hair petting was reinforcing her body's desire
for more, and my clinical explanation of why I had to remove her intimate
covering was slowly appeasing any arguments that her mind might have not
to.

As the seconds clicked away I was wondering if I finally made that dire
connection of acceptance and trust that I was so eagerly looking for with
Anna. Then the answer came.

A gentle nodding of her head yes. She could not bring herself to say the
words. For her mind was not to the point of full acceptance yet. But this
time her body dominated her thoughts as she shook her head up and down
several times with increasing vigor.

I leaned over to Anna's ear and whispered "Good Girl" and followed it with
a light pat on her head. My GOD did that feel good! Calling a full grown
woman a petite immature girl and then patting her on the head as if she was
a precious little pet was simply awesome for me!

This was my first true act of dominating Anna and I felt it in all it's
glory. My body shuddered with a chill and then it flashed white hot like an
exploding star. The experience was like anticipating a delicious ice cream
cone all day long during a scorching hot spell and then finally having that
first long savory lick of that sweet melting cream. It's amazing how the
most simple things in life can mean so much, at the right time.

Given Anna's current trusting state I knew I could take some liberties with
her. Not that I would go wild with my increasing lust for her and rip
her bra and panties clean off. Nor did I want to simply remove them as if
they were a pair of dirty socks either.

I was very gentle when I slowly slid my fingers over her impressive back
and under her bra strap. Then carefully, I unhooked the two clasps that
held it together. I let the elastic guide my hands up and around Anna's
back, feeling the warmth of her firm flesh in the process. More slowly now,
I pushed the dangling white lingerie off the top of her powerful shoulders
and onto her arms. I purposely did not pull the bra cups from her breasts,
even though I was dying to see their full rich symmetry suspended in
midair. The reason being was a simple one, embarrassment.

We are all creatures of habit. A good part of our life is in doing things
that are routine and virtually automatic, like putting on and taking off
our clothes. We may spend a certain amount of time in deciding what to
wear, or how it looks on us, once we put it on, but rarely do we give a
passing thought to the process of putting it on or taking it off. That is,
unless one is a sleazy stripper. And that's how I wanted Anna to feel like
in my presents.

By having her bra straps dangling over her arms and it's cups barely
covering her breasts, I was forcing Anna to be aware of her half dressed
condition. Her normal everyday routine was broken in mid-stride. And now
she was forced to deal with the uneasiness of her half dressed, slutty
situation. Oh she tried to use her hand to remove her bra completely or to
hold it close to her body so the cups would not fall away. But as soon as I
saw her hand leave the table I quickly ordered a commanding "NO!"

She stopped immediately and turned her head sharply in my direction. I
momentarily delighted in her positive response to my authority. No doubt
due to her athletic training where her coaches would command her to perform
in a specific way. Any rebellion that she might have had was wiped out of
her a long time ago by those pseudo Masters and Mistresses of sports. But
again, we were in the early dawn of our "special" relationship so to calm
her a bit I just explained to her that it would be easier for her to keep
herself supported with two hands instead of one and the exam would only
take a minute or so.

There was a noticeable uneasiness when she put her hand back on the table.
Probably due to the fact that her bra was covering only one of her breasts
instead of two now.

I'm afraid that my curiosity got the better of me at that point. For I
quietly bent over at my waist and took what was supposed to be a brief
glance at what her pendulous uncovered breast looked like.

Oh it was so beautiful! And it was just like the rest of her too, perfect!
Not too big, not too small, and it literally made my mouth water. It hung
out from her slightly muscular chest so sedately in a natural firm tear
drop shape. There wasn't the least bit of flop or droop in it what-so-ever.
My eyes began to squint as I looked long and hard at the area under her
breast where the curvature of her breast met with her chest. I was looking
for any semblance of scaring in that particular area. Her breast looked so
superb that I wondered if the hand of man might have played a small part
in it's exquisite artistic appearance. But all I could see was smooth
taught seamless skin. Which meant her breasts had to be one hundred
percent natural.

My eyes almost bugged out of my head, when I saw her excited nipple grow
out long and hard. I can not tell you how long it's been, since I've seen
such a perfectly matched set of nipples, aureolas and breasts before. They
were all so beautiful in their shape, symmetry and proportion to one
another. Usually what I find in my patients is that some part of them often
offsets another, but not in Anna. I had no choice but to turn my gaze
immediately away. I was so overwhelmed with what I saw that I knew that it
was only a matter of seconds before instinct, like my curiosity, got the
better of me and I would have Anna flat on the floor with me on top of
her. My hands grasping, mauling and digging my fingers and nails into her
perfect tender breasts while my tongue, lips and teeth were doing equally
sweet sadistic things to her flawless perky nipples.

I let her stay like that, bent over, while I regained my sterile objective
composure. I knew that for Anna the seconds were ticking away like hours,
for her facial cheeks were beginning to take on that warm embarrassed glow
about them. At that point it was time for me to act.

I slowly slipped my fingers between the elastic sides of her panties and
the top of her round womanly hips. Immediately I could feel and see Anna's
entire body go rigid. She knew what was about to happen, and because she
had said nothing to stop me, I decided to take my time with removing her
panties.

Oh I so love a nice ass, maybe more so than a nice pair of big fat tits.
And Anna had one very fine derriere too. Her panties, like her bra, was
your standard functional, no frills, white cotton. Since they lacked any
erotic appeal for me I found it necessary to get my thrills in another
way.

So I slowly began tugging and coaxing them down over her cheeks. There was
more than enough room to do this part quite easily, but I wanted Anna's
face to turn as red as possible. So I stretched them wide from her hips and
did a little sea sawing back and forth across her plump rump as if they
were a size too small. Just like a stripper would in order to get her
drooling patrons to ogle her most impressive butt.

With each fraction of an inch lower I took them, I could see more and more
of her delectable feminine tush. When the rim of her panties was down below
the crack of her butt I could see a tan line begin to form. I have to tell
you that I was a little surprised by what was being revealed to me. Here I
thought Anna was your proverbial straight arrow. A young woman with a
determined fixed interest in her studies and the Olympic dream. But what
was gradually unfolding before my eyes was the light skinned shadow left
from wearing a french cut bathing suit. Not quite the G-string up the crack
of your ass type, but definitely cheek revealing. It was very hard for me
not to giggle at the panoramic view that was being unveiled before my eyes.
Nor was it easy for me to keep myself from grabbing a full chunk of
scrumptious ass meat when I had that elastic strategically placed down
under the clef of her butt either. All I could do was to take a step back
and just stare at that gorgeous fleshy butt, framed so artistically by her
pristine white panties.

My mind was racing as to what I could do with such a divine, well formed,
virginal rear end like hers. I began going through all the utensils I could
use on it once she became my willing slave. The paddles with their large
unforgiving areas, as they smacked audibly hard against subtle feminine
flesh. The sharp cracking noise of a leather crop as it made those cute
rectangular red marks all over her sensitive burning cheeks. The floggers,
big and small, with their multiple whip like tentacles making that heavy
smacking sound across her entire butt or one quivering cheek in particular.
And of course my hand. I began rubbing my fingers across my palm in
anticipation of the expected sting I would feel from a good long spanking,
knowing full well that whatever unpleasantness I felt would be magnified a
hundred fold for poor sweet Anna. It took a great deal of will power on my
part not to simply pinch her robust butt right then. But again, I
maintained my professional stature as I stepped back up to Anna. I grabbed
the sides of her panties once more whose front was still covering her
secret garden, and then as fast as I could I yanked them straight down to
just below her knees before letting them go with a smack.

I can still hear the sudden loud gasp that Anna made when I did that. It
was so precious. It seemed to reflect both surprise and relief at the same
time. Surprise, in it being totally unexpected, and relief, in that she too
wanted me to do that to her. She longed for someone like me, an aggressive
demanding and powerful sadistic lesbian, to take control like that and
expose her sexy furry patch of intimate femininity in one quick jerk. Or at
least that's how I interpreted it.

But I just could not believe my luck! Anna simply remained there, bent
over, with her hands on the table and her arms straight as rails supporting
her upper body. And not a single note of astonishment, anger, or even a
simple questioning "why". Nothing at all echoed from those two sensuous
pouting lips of her's.

But questions were forming in my mind though. Was her athletic training
that intense and controlling so as to condition her to the will of
practically any authority figure? Could she be that self-disciplined and
focused in her life that once she agreed to do something, then there would
be no turning back until it was accomplished, no matter what it was? Could
she be in fact a true, deeply ingrained, latent submissive? A submissive
who only now with my expert help, could safely let go and fully explore her
deepest darkest desires?

The questions kept coming faster and faster, one after the other until I
finally had to say 'ENOUGH' to myself. The questions and their answers were
all superfluous. The only thing of importance that mattered was that Anna
was remaining in the position I had put her in. That, and the strong
feeling of positive expectations that was enveloping me right then. An
expectancy that whatever the future was going to bring to both Anna and
myself, it would be "I", not Anna, that would determine if we both
experienced it or not.

But something very bizarre happened to me right after that. It happened
while I was looking at Anna's lower back. For some strange reason I did not
see a bent over nude slut with her panties bunched up around her knees and
her bra hanging haphazardly from her arms and one tit. What I saw was a
young beautiful woman with an undaunted desire to be whole again. To
experience her life long dream of standing on the highest step with a gold
medal resting upon her chest with pride. And a severely damaged back that
would never allow her dream to come to pass.

I felt so sorry for her. The damage went beyond muscle and tendons, which
was beyond my capabilities or for that matter anyone's ability, to put
back as it once was. Oh I could make her better all right. I had no doubt
about that. But to put her back like she was, like she wanted, like she
longed for? There was just no way. Fate can be such a cruel mistress
sometimes.

Oh my heart went out to the poor girl. Did you hear me say that? My HEART
went out to her! My god, I was actually falling in love with her. I could
not believe it, not then, not even now. How could such a thing happen to
me? Never, I mean NEVER, did I have a deeply heartfelt emotional experience
with any of my patients before. They were all simply about sex, domination
and my desire to reek sadistic pleasure from their agonizing flesh. But
with Anna it was different. It had to be something along the lines of love
at first sight, uncontrollable infatuation, kismet, my ultimate fantasy
coming true, or all of them at once.

Yea, that's it! It was all those things coming together at once. It had to
be. I had always thought those moronic cliches and trite catchwords, were
for fools and romantics, which I considered myself immune to. But never-
the-less, it had to be true. The longer I stared at her disfigured back,
the more compassion, empathy and yes, LOVE I was feeling for her. It was no
longer just an act for me. To pretend that my patient was the well spring
from which my life flowed so I could turn them into my very own masochistic
sex slave. It was real! And I was hooked!

Oh it was all so ironic, me loving Anna. And that was so very, very bad
too. Because one never hurts the one they love. I know, I know, more
pathetic trite and romantic dribble, but it's still true.

Ha Ha Ha, the Sadistic Bitch in White was hit by Cupid's arrow and presto!
She had became a moon struck romantic. All those ideas I had of tormenting
Anna, making her suffer, painfully, at my hand. While at the same time
gorging myself in one gut wrenching orgasm after another at her expense.
They all went for naught now. Oh yes, FATE can be a cruel mistress indeed.
But, Fate can be a delightful conniving bitch as well.

I stood there just looking upon Anna's back and seeing those long ugly
painful scars running down it. Normally that sort of thing would make me
feel a twinge of excitement and a desire to finger myself, but not this
time. All I wanted to do was to take Anna in my arms, comfort her, kiss
her, caress those hideous ridges of skin ever so gently, and to make them
all go magically away for her. Oh GOD did I have it bad!

I did walk up to her and actually touched them with my fingers. To which
Anna instantly jerked forward. Mostly out of surprise, but also because my
hand was so cold. I even felt bad with myself for not taking the time to
warm my hands up ahead of time before causing her such discomfort. Oh I was
one pathetic love sick puppy back then.

I don't know how I did it, what with this new romantic crush coursing
through my soul. But once more I kept my professional persona intact. I
told her that it was necessary for me to touch her some more, so that I
could perform my examination, and for her to please remain still. Then I
began to really touch her in earnest. I couldn't help myself!

For a good long while my hands never left her exquisite female body.
Touching her, stroking her and yes I was even fondling and caressing her. I
was spending an incredible amount of time in areas that had nothing to do
with where she was hurt. Those very same intimate areas that I love to
touch so much on a full ripen woman's body like Anna's, and all under the
guise of it being a necessary part of the examination. I was now using the
same excuses for my new loving advances as I once did with my old sadistic
ones, And all during my loving exploration Anna remained in position. Only
a faint little moan or groan would flow from her cute passionate lips now
and then.

My force of will prevailed once more as I stopped any further intimate
advances with my precious Anna. I then wrapped one arm around Anna's chest
and the other around her waist. I drew myself close to her with our bodies
touching in a warm hug. I whispered softly in her ear that the examination
was over with and that I was going to help her back up. Her head flinched a
bit when she felt my hot moist breath on her sexy ear. I could still feel
the uneasiness in her body as I slowly pulled us both up to a standing
position. Her soft fragrant hair accidently whipped across my face as she
tried to turn her head back enough to face me and whispered a thank you in
return. With my arms still around her, hugging her tightly, longer than
what would have been perceived as being normal, I finally did bring myself
to set my precious Anna free.

She quickly collected her clothes and put them on as fast as she could.
Again, I felt the pull on my heart strings as I watched her dress with
great difficulty from the pain that she felt in accomplishing that simple
task. I began wondering if this new loving relationship thing had a chance
of working out now. Oh I knew I would find a way for Anna to return my
love alright, both spiritually and physically. I was just unsure what to do
about my sadistic urges that's all.

I have learned a long time ago that trying to ignore them was a useless
endeavor. It only made my life difficult and very frustrating to live. I
knew that sex with Anna would eventually be good and satisfying, but I also
knew that I would soon want more. No, I didn't "want" more, I "demanded"
more! Much more than just satisfaction. I wanted sublime ecstasy, and by
god I was going to get it too! But not with my precious Anna.

To say that I was in a frustrated quandary would be an severe
understatement. Briefly I even thought about leaving Anna and trying again
with another victim I mean patient. But I loved her. I wanted to be with
her, always. I wanted to hold her, to cuddle up under a warm blanket with
her, to laugh and cry with her, to live life to it's fullest with her. But
how? Unless . . .

Then in a flash it came to me! Remember when I said that Fate can be a
conniving bitch, as well as a cruel mistress?"

A voice that remained quiet for a very long time finally answered quietly
back.

"Yes".

"Well, that sweet femme fatale was beginning to smile right down on me. She
was giving me the most luscious idea that I ever had, and exactly at the
time I needed it the most too. An idea that would satiate my most darkest
sadistic desires to the max! All those times when I wanted to go one step
further with my patients, but decided not to because it was too extreme,
too painful or far too humiliating for them to endure, I was going to be
totally free to indulge myself in. I had found a way to have my cake and
eat it too, all of it! I was going to drink deep from the cup of appalling
inhuman desires until I was a fully inebriated blissful sadistic bitch in
white! But, it would not be with my dear sweet Anna. Oh no! She would
definitely not be the lab rat to which I would experiment on in bringing my
toe curling demonic fantasies into erotic flesh pleasuring reality. Oh no,
not with her."

The once silent voice across from Lisa made a long soft exhale. The voice
knew what Lisa was waiting for, conformation. And it was important for the
voice to answer her correctly too so the rest of the ghastly tale could be
told in it's uninhibited entirety. So the voice took a deep breath, held it
in for a second and then gave Lisa her needed affirmation.

"It was to be with Martha, wasn't it Lisa?"

"YES! That poor excuse for a coach and spotter. The one who failed Anna
when she needed her the most. The one responsible for my precious Anna's
less than whole existence. Martha would be the recipient of my glorious
orgasmic wrath, to atone for her horrible sins with her very living flesh
if need be! And do you want to know what the most cunning part of my idea
was?"

The voice responded without a single bit of emotion in it.

"Yes."

"The very best part of it was, that Anna would be the hand from which
Martha was going to suffer the most appetizing and agonizing pains of hell
from. I, yes "I", MISTRESS LISA, the "Sadistic Bitch in White" would be the
creative genius, the inspiring artist, and the strategic planner to which
Anna, my loving instrument, would work my will through. I would be the
Sorceress and Anna would be my dutiful apprentice. Under my guidance we
would both bring Martha to her knees, begging and pleading with tears in
her eyes for mercy. And our response to her pathetic tormented existence
would only be more of the same. Oh how sweet revenge will be. For Anna and
I."

The voice pondered for a moment. A decision had to be made. To continue
now or tomorrow? The voice needed some time for itself. To take in what had
already transpired. To revitalize it's own inner self. And to prepare
itself for what was waiting for it tomorrow. So the voice made the
decision.

"Let's stop here and continue tomorrow. Is that ok with you Lisa?"

"If you wish. I guess I could use the rest even though I'm too keyed up
right now. So then, I will see you again tomorrow, in the morning, right
Doctor?"

"Yes Lisa, first thing tomorrow morning will be fine. Have a pleasant
night's rest and remember to buzz the nurse if you need anything. Good
night Lisa."

"Good night Doctor."

And as Lisa cozied up under the covers of the hospital bed, Doctor Rosalyn
Bridgestone left the room with her notebook in hand.

Doctor Bridgestone was about to call it a day when she decided to quickly
look in on one more patient before going home. This patient was in another
wing of the hospital, but directly on her way back to her office. The walk
was not too far, down a couple flights of stairs and a little ways along a
narrow zig zagging corridor. When she came to a jail like gate she removed
a plastic card with it's embossed magnetic strip from the pocket of her
long white lab coat and swiped it through the designated slot. A green
light came on indicating she had the proper high ranking credentials to
enter.

A moment later a loud audible hum came on and the high tech lock opened.
She pushed the massive iron gate forward and continued on through. The gate
would close by itself. And when the heavy metal slammed up against itself,
the power holding the lock opened was immediately shut off engaging the
lock again with a bang. But Doctor Bridgestone made no indication of even
hearing it, let alone being startled by it. It had all become old hat for
her now after spending several decades working and now running the
behavioral department of this hospital.

She walked about two thirds down the wide hallway, stopped and looked
through a small unbreakable window mounted in a white steel door. On the
other side of the door was a room with Doctor Bridgestone's other patient
in it.

The patient was in what a lay-person would call the proverbial padded room.
She was wrapped in a tight undersized straight jacket. Her arms and hands
were safely hidden away in it's long white sleeves that kept her forever
hugging herself. About her legs was a form fitting ankle length skirt
without the sexy slit up the side. It too was made from the same hospital
issued heavy white canvas material like her upper wrap was. Both specially
designed garments were held in place by several comfortable but inescapable
brown leather straps with a fashionable padded piping along their top and
bottom edges. A rather interesting brown strap arrangement, more like a
harness, was fastened about her head. It's dominant feature was a wide
leather strap stretched taught across her mouth and buckled tightly behind
her head. A myriad of smaller straps emanated from it in various strategic
places that seemed to cover her face, head and blonde matted hair in a
tight web like design. Their purpose was simple, to keep her mouth guard
muzzle tightly in place until someone wanted to remove it.

The patient was sitting on the spongy white floor with her back resting up
against the spongy white wall. She was staring, in earnest, up at the white
door and in particular at the small mirrored glass inside of it near it's
top. She seemed passive and under control, but her breathing through her
nose was strong, fast, and deep, like an athlete during a workout. The only
movement that she made, other than the occasional eye blink, came from her
bare feet poking out from the bottom of her white and brown striped cocoon.
They were both moving back and forth in a kind of midair taping motion, but
doing so at an incredible fast rate like from a mindless, nervous twitch.
Obviously she had a tremendous amount of energy wrapped up inside of her
and this was the only way she could find to relieve it.

The Doctor looked long and hard at the bound and gagged woman, just like a
spider would at it's recently captured and packaged prey. Her sober
expression was slowly turning into one of unexpected happiness. A big open
smile with eyes full of joy made the change in her spirit complete. She
began shanking her head from side to side as if in total disbelief as to
what Fate had just laid before her, literally at her very feet. She began
to speak in a soft reflected tone directly to the woman on the other side
of the one way mirror. Words that her patient could not possibly hear.

"Well, well, well, it looks like we meet again. Don't we, my DEAR FRIEND
Martha!" She labored out loud with gut wrenching anger and vengeance
on those two words that seemed to stick in her craw. Two words that meant
exactly the opposite from what she now felt raging through her soul. And
for a brief moment Martha's feet stopped moving as if she heard her. Then
again they quickly went back to their rapid blurring air dance.

A minute or so passed, just enough time for the good doctor to regain her
objective composure. Then she continued with her self-enlightening talk
once more in a nonchalant tone that didn't last long.

"I do believe Lisa was right. Fate can be both a cruel mistress and a
conniving bitch. And I know you would agree with her too, wouldn't you,
my DEAR FRIEND MARTHA!"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.

Those wishing to send Mistress Jytte E-mail can do so by sending it to me
and I will forward it directly to her.




                               "Fate"

                                 by

                            Mistress Jytte

                                 &

                               Musker


                              (part 2)


                            The Dark Art



"LISA!" A surprised and noticeably irritated Doctor Bridgestone exclaimed
when she seen Lisa out of her bed and in the mitts of doing some sort of
exercise.

"What on earth are you doing out of bed? You know you experienced some very
serious internal injuries as a result of the accident. So you need to stay
in bed and heal first. Now get back into bed young lady before I call an
attendant."

Lisa closed her eyes and gave a pathetic audible sigh like a daughter
confronted with an over protected mother. She put her hand to her side
where the bandages covered the stitches and slowly walked back to her bed.
Her contorted facial features atoned to how painful the short trip was.

"The nurse did say it was all right for me to leave the bed if I had to.
Besides, I am a nurse too you know. And who is the best to judge my body's
capabilities other than me Doctor Bridgestone?"

Lisa was true to her independent form. Even though she liked Doctor Rosalyn
Bridgestone, and her added motherly concern, she never-the-less was her own
woman. A woman who never took too kindly to others bossing her around.

"Yes, I know Lisa. But your leaving the bed was in reference to you going
to the bathroom only. Not doing some ritual martial arts exercises." The
Doctor helped Lisa back into bed and then placed the covers over her making
sure she was well tucked in. Rosalyn could not help playing the role of the
concerned motherly adult even though she was a divorced woman in her 50's
who never had children.

"It was Tai Chi Doctor Bridgestone." Lisa made the point of saying it to
the doctor in a clear forthright voice just to clarify the point.

The doctor finished tucking Lisa in and then took her normal place off to
the side in a chair next to the window. She opened her notebook and began
writing her standard preliminary notations with regards to the patient at
hand. Once finished she continued her conversation with Lisa.

"So, it was Tai Chi. Does eastern philosophy interest you in particular
Lisa?"

"A little, but mostly from the health oriented aspect. That is why I am so
successful in what I do. I combine both western and eastern forms of
medicine into my own eclectic version. It's a shame that the majority of
western medicine is based solely on drugs and surgery. It can be quite
contemptuous at times you know. Not that the mystic ways of the east have
all the answers either. It's only through the blending of the two that the
vast majority of my patients show mark improvement, almost boarding on a
full recovery."

"And this is what you used on Anna?"

"Yes, once she signed the contract."

The woman doctor looked upon Lisa with confusion.

"What exactly do you mean by contract? I know of consent forms and other
legal documents that defray liability, but I never heard of a contract in
the health care profession. Please, tell me more."

"It's something I had specially drawn up for me. It covers what you have
already mentioned regarding liability. It also covers various areas of
particular concern to me like payment, expenses, living in their home and
therapy prognosis, which I never sugar coat. And finally there is a small
part that allows me to virtually take over their lives completely for the
duration of my stay."

The doctor was troubled by how nonchalant Lisa was is saying that last part
as if it were just another item on a grocery list.

"Now wait a minute Lisa. That "small part" sounds awfully like power of
attorney and legal guardianship. And your patients, Anna included, actually
sign this contract of yours? I find it hard to believe that it would stand
up under judicial prudence"

"Oh yes, they do indeed sign it. Don't forget, I'm usually their last hope
and people will do almost anything when they are at the end of their rope.
And I never lie to them either. I'm always up front as to what they can
expect from me, health wise. There really is no need for me to lie to them
anyway. They do it to themselves. Once they hear me say that I can make
them better, their minds quickly fill in the gap between "being better" and
"being like before". They can't help it really. These women are use to
giving one hundred and ten percent in everything they do. They think of
themselves as wonder women, way beyond the norm of the general masses. So
whatever limitations of reality I put on their prognosis, they simply right
it off for the average woman and not relevant to them. They can be quite
arrogant in this respect.

As to the contract being completely legal, well, probably not. But many
prenuptial contracts are based on mutual agreements that would never hold
up in court either and yet both parties willingly sign them. Basically it's
just something for me to wave before their eyes when their fantasy for a
complete rejuvenation begins to crumble."

"And those women go ahead and sign the contract without the least bit of
trepidation?"

"No, not really. But close to it. They do balk a little when they find out
how much control I will have over their lives. But they definitely know
what their getting into. At this point their options are pretty much null
and void for them. Besides, for these types of women the ends really do
justify the means. And Anna was no different."

"So when Anna signed that contract what happened next?"

"Before the inked dried her life became an extension of my will. I
controlled it all. What and when she ate, slept, exercised, rest, therapy,
etc, etc, etc. Oh it really is quite dramatic. I'm practically a drill
sargent in a white nurses uniform and they are my recruits on their first
day in boot camp. But with Anna it was a little different because of my
love for her. So a good deal of what I normally would have done was cut
back considerably. But like I said yesterday, I had an even greater plan to
focus on."

The doctor was amazed at the sudden change in Lisa's whole psyche after
that last comment. It was as if she quickly picked up from where she left
off the day before. Her eyes became wide as she focused on something out in
the distance. Her facial expression took on an energized and euphoria glow.
And her body started to move in an uneasy nervousness under the covers.

The doctor was busy writing as fast as she could all that she was
observing. And to give her more time she quickly asked Lisa to explain her
plan again.

"It was an exciting plan doctor. I can't tell you enough how it made me
feel. It was like an Epiphany, a true religious experience. Well maybe not
that strong, unless of course one's deity has come from the underworld of
fire and brimstone." Lisa monetarily looked over at the doctor with a
humorous smile on her face. But when the doctor did not bother to
acknowledge her little quip she simply continued on.

"But it was a very moving experience for me. And it was all right there
before me too, complete from start to finish in my mind's eye. With the
most important step in the whole operation being the easiest one to
accomplish. That being to make Anna aggressively hate Martha to the point
of doing whatever nasty thing I tell her to do to her.

I couldn't believe how easy that part was going to be. Because it's always
been a significant part of my therapy program anyway. I believe your
profession calls it "transference". I, myself, like to think of it as
conjuring up an escape goat. For you see, my therapy always causes a great
deal of agitation in my patients lives, both physically and emotionally.
There's simply no way around it. Otherwise I would never be in this
honorable profession to begin with. And in the beginning, when my patient's
enthusiasm is at it's crest, I use it to my benefit. And Anna was no
exception.

Anna had bought an estate on the out skirts of the college so she could be
around a familiar setting to keep her Olympic dream alive. The estate
itself was far more land than house and fairly secluded with a tall brick
fence and an impressive ornate iron gate at the entrance. She found she
could run the entire place with a single maid and one grounds keeper, or
handy man if you will. As soon as she signed the contract I fired them
both. I then hired a married couple that I use to do the same thing. You
see, I need total control with my patients and that includes controlling
the hired help as well. The team I use are very loyal to me and because
they are foreigners they speak only a little English. This makes it hard
for any alliances to be formed between them and my patients, including
Anna.

Next on the list is a detailed daily regimen. It defines sleep patterns,
therapy sessions, workouts, rest periods, meal times, everything in a 24/7
time span. The only free time I gave Anna was three hours a day, one hour
for the morning, afternoon and evening. And in this she had to spend on her
estate without outside contact. It's exactly like boot camp and then some.
I needed to control every single parameter of my patients lives, every
item, every force, every minuet detail in order to reach the desired
results.

I guess from your perspective it sounds like something right out of a
concentration camp. But Anna and all my former athletic patients are use to
having their lives guided by others. In fact, there is a certain degree of
safety and security in following such a well ordered plan that feeds and
nurtures them to perfection. The only difference was that the lifestyle I
chiseled out in stone for them was all encompassing, if not totally
consuming for them. Even for my dear precious Anna.

Once the itinerary was set down it was a simple matter of getting Anna to
follow it. Again, in the beginning, it's always easy. Anna's fanaticism for
the prospects of regaining her Olympic dream was like a shot of adrenaline
to her system. She was all gun hoe and ready to follow my orders whatever
they were.

So we began with her diet. To a "T", all my patients have put on weight.
With their normal routine broken due to physical problems and the stress
that develops as a result of their changed lives, my patients cannot help
but put on a few pounds here and there, and sometimes it is substantial.
Anna had this problem too. Not that she was blatantly fat, but only because
of her lower back problem. Her bottom half began to reflected that full
pear shape characteristic of most women living an arm chair existence.

I always put my patients on a total vegetarian, low fat, low sugar and no
more than 500 calories a day diet. It sounds pretty drab and severe, but
the woman who cooks for me does an excellent job of making each abbreviated
meal very tasty as well as nutritious. A few vitamin supplements are added
to make up any critical lost in any particular area. And I have to
practically forced my patients to drink vast quantities of pure distilled
water throughout the day. My goal was to tear my patients down, literally
right to the bone, before I build them back up again into a strong lean
submissive love mate.

Then along with the diet, I require them to undergo colonics. Twice a day
for the first week, then once a day for the following week, and finally
once a week after that. In a way I really enjoy giving them an enema.

On the one hand, it's a fast way to remove the impurities that fill their
drugged up toxic bodies. Then on the other hand, it feeds my need to
sadistically dominate them. There is nothing more embarrassing or
humiliating than having to expose one's most private orifice to another,
and then have them diddle around with it. The degree of degradation one
feels literally goes off the charts. And I take full advantage of it too by
prolonging it as long as I can. Which means I have the enema solution drip
very slowly into them, taking almost an hour sometimes. Then I tell them
how necessary it is for them to hold it for awhile. And to help them with
this, I use a special cone shape nozzle with a shut-off valve built right
inside of it. All I have to do is to pull out the tube from the nozzle and
nothing comes out. They are then free to move around if they wish. Or I
should say, if they can.

Oh it delights me to no end to watch them twist and turn with great
discomfort. Hearing them moan and groan as wave after cramping wave hit
their bloated bowels. But I do try to help them out too, with words of
encouragement and some soothing body massages with my matching rubber
gloves. Oh I do so love the feel of rubber. And when I give my patients
their enemas it is an opportune time for me to wear my very fashionable
rubber nurse's outfit."

The doctor immediately stopped writing and looked up over the rim of her
glasses.

"Did you say "a rubber nurse's outfit" Lisa?"

"Oh yes! And it's so cute too. It's a standard old fashioned white nurses
uniform with a long flowing skirt that comes down to my ankles. It has long
billowy sleeves with a full bib apron trimmed in red with little red
crosses on it. It even has an adorable white rubber nurses hat with a
single red cross in the center of it too. And underneath I wear a very sexy
black rubber bra and garter belt outfit with matching hip high rubber hose
too. The next best thing to wearing a fashionable rubber uniform is how it
sounds when I move. Mmmmmmm, all those crinkling and crackling sounds it
makes has such a sensuous erotic effect on me."

"And your patients have no objections to your rather . . . overt fetish?"

"Oh heavens no! They do look at me kind of weird when they see me like that
for the first time. But since they are completely nude and I am wearing a
uniform of some authority they seem to take on a rather passive demure
about the whole thing. Besides, when they are aching something terribly
from having their abdomen distended out as if they were five months
pregnant the last thing on their minds is why I am wearing a kinky fetish
outfit. But their discomfort does allow me to touch them in a very pleasing
way. Like along their soft smooth arms and legs, over and around their firm
bloated bellies and I can even caress their tender naked breasts. And in
some strange way, I do believe the rubber plays a significant part in
allowing me this physical intimacy as well. It acts as a kind of buffer as
to make such "familiar" contact less an act of girl to girl love making and
more of a clinical nurse and patient experience. But it's really all a play
on words. Whatever illusion they wish to believe, it's still comes down to
it being our very first lesbian encounter."

Doctor Bridgestone was making note upon note in her book. She was finding
Lisa's method of operation more and more fascinating with each new
revealing event.

"So after the colonics what happens next Lisa?"

"After that comes the exercises, massages and acupuncture treatments. The
exercises start off slowly, mostly simple stretching. I need to find their
baseline before I can really push them. In the beginning, I will also
stretch and exercise with them, making sure they copy my moves precisely.
Then I will just watch them perform by themselves while I orchestrate the
sequence. During these later times I am right there next to them. So close
that they can feel my hot breath on their soft feminine skin."

"Does that mean you, they, exercise in the nude Lisa?" A note of quiet
disbelief was in the doctor's voice.

"Oh No! Not at first anyway. I need to acclimate them to that point slowly.
So we exercise with standard workout clothes. I have this other cute little
nurse's outfit that I simply love to wear for this occasion. It has a pair
of white hot pants with red crosses over the pockets and a white halter top
with two more red crosses over the breast area. Then I accessorize it with
my little white nurse's cap and white tennis shoes, both sporting the red
cross signature of my profession. It's only after the first week when the
patients have really become familiar with the training program that I
insist that they forgo any clothes and do their exercises in the nude. I
explain to them that it is necessary for me to see how their muscles react
to the various stretching and pulling techniques that they are doing. Then
after a day or two watching their sexy muscles bulge and elongate I begin
to touch them. Again under the veil of it being medically necessary. You
can't believe how exciting and pleasurable it is to feel their moving
muscles and tight tendons under soft smooth skin. But it is kind of funny
in a way."

"Oh, how so Lisa?"

"I have become so sensitive to the simple act of touching that I can
readily tell how nervous they are by simply feeling their flesh. A sudden
jerk upon first contact, a benign shrug of a shoulder as I slowly rub my
hands up and down their backs, and then the little muscle spasms I feel
when I caress a tender sensitive spot like around their ribs or under the
folds of their breasts. Not to mention those other areas like behind their
knees and along the inside of their thighs, or simply around their ears
were a tender lover would spend the longest time exploring those sensitive
spiraling surfaces with her tongue. You would never know it, but it takes
several days with me examining them like this before they finally loose
their adversion to my touch. Except for Anna though."

"Oh! Did she take longer?"

"No, quite the contrary. It only took her two days before her flesh was as
calm as can be when I caressed her so lovingly. With hind sight, I think it
might have been the massage therapy that helped out in this respect. But
then again, how could it not. After a long laborious day of exercises, who
wouldn't respond to a period of gentle manipulation of their sore tired
flesh with scented oils. And then hearing in a lover's whisper a series of
reinforcing messages telling them that they were getting better and better
with each successive day while soft romantic music played on in the
background.

Little by little I was imposing myself on them, on Anna. If not with my hot
yearning flesh upon theirs, then with my tender words of inspiring
adulation. Within a mer few weeks time I was able to touch Anna's labia
lips ever so gently and caress her breasts and nipples as a lover would
with her lips and tongue. And then after a full month had gone by, when
Anna was looking very much the reborn phoenix, I was literally able to
tickle her clitoris at will, masturbating her to the brink of orgasm. But I
never let her cum. I wanted her to ask for it, to beg me for it! Once she
did that then I knew I had her as my lesbian lover for all time."

"So then that proved your theory that Anna was really a latent homosexual,
lesbian if you will, correct?"

"Well, not exactly. Anna was responding very well to my intimate touch. I
just loved to hear her coo and groan as I wound her up, sexually, like a
child's toy. But she never asked me to let her go all the way. And Anna
still had a problem with giving back to me what she passively received. Her
inhibitions were very strong in that respect. Several times I just about
had to force her to touch me. And only under the excuse that I was showing
her, on my body, what I was looking to develop in hers. But even in that
she was very sheepish in going too far with her touch on me. Oh I knew I
had my work cut out for me all right."

"And what about the acupuncture? Was that part of your therapy or primarily
for your own sadistic desires?"

Doctor Bridgestone was pushing it with that question. Especially the way
she said the last part as if she was sitting in negative judgement of her.
But what she was really doing was testing Lisa, as to how comfortable she
was with her sadistic nature. From listening to her talk she felt Lisa was
very at easy with her abnormal sexuality. Thus if Lisa balked at her
"between the lines" negative implication, or took out right direct issue
with her, than Doctor Bridgestone would know that there was a small part
inside of Lisa's psyche that was not all that comfortable with her blatant
acceptance of hurting young women for her own sexual arousal. The good
doctor figured that a person who was content with whom and what they are
would give little credence to what other people thought, even doctors like
her.

"Well, both really. There is no doubt that acupuncture does have
therapeutic applications, as any of my patients would testify to. But I
have to admit, each time I stick them with a needle, and especially when
their eyes scrunch up in pain as they gasp and groan as I push and turn
that long dagger like needle deeper and deeper into their tender flesh, I
do get a very arousing sensation from it. To be honest, it is quite a
rewarding experience for both my self and patients. I in the short fall
from being sexually excited, and my patients in the long fall from
receiving significant better health."

The doctor wrote three short words off to the side of her book and then
circled them twice, "A true Sadist!" Then a thought came to her mind.

"Lisa, didn't you say that it was difficult for you to cause Anna, your . .
. . "precious love" I believe you called her, any kind of physical or
emotional pain because you were so much in love with her? If that is so,
then how did you reconcile all these embarrassing, humiliating and sadistic
pleasures you took from her, causing her so much physical and mental
torment while still claiming to be in love with her?"

"Oh it was very hard for me Doctor Bridgestone! Very hard indeed! The
acupuncture alone caused me much dismay that I was actually empathizing
with her discomfort. Several times I caught myself making faces and
emitting sounds that were in line with being on the receiving end of those
long pointed needles. It took great strength on my part in order to get
through those times with my precious Anna. And you know where I found that
strength Doctor Bridgestone?"

The woman doctor was keenly interested in finding out if Lisa was truly in
love with Anna. A love so deep and so over powering that Lisa was actually
content in replacing her natural sadistic sexuality with that which
reflected pure romantic love.

"Where Lisa?"

"I found the strength from Anna herself. Within the short time I knew her,
I could easily recognize that she was an exceptional individual. Her stead
fast perseverance to her cause, her complete and total faith in me, and all
those people who promised her the world and then broke that promise. She
continued to have no ill will towards anyone. Not even that evil bitch
Martha. The one who caused her demise and robbed her of her Olympic dream
in the first place.

Anna was the source of my strength Doctor Bridgestone, as well as my love.
Whatever period of humiliation, embarrassment and yes pain I had to cause
in my beloved Anna, I knew it was for a greater good. I knew that once Anna
came to realize that her Olympic dream was over it, she would need a new
goal, a new direction, a new passion in life to replace it. For if none was
there, then I knew she would be devastated beyond all hope. That's why she
needed me to show her the way. To show her that love and hate were not just
the opposite sides of the same coin with it's socially idealistic good-bad
connotation. I wanted to show her how to love for simply love's sake. To
love me, to please me, another woman, sexually, as I was so willingly to do
for her. But I also wanted to open her eyes to a new world as well. To love
to hate with equal passion. I wanted to show her how to cause pain in
others and be moved erotically by it without regret, without empathy and
without remorse. I wanted to show her the delicious arousing pleasure in
seeing another woman suffer in pure emotional torment. And above all, I
wanted to see her embrace her new found sadistic lust with all her being as
she successfully transforms her most hated enemy into a simple masochistic
lesbian fuck toy. And that is where Martha came into the equation."

Doctor Bridgestone had just finished writing another cryptic note in her
book and then stared at the page full of her scribbling that only she could
read. Another question formed in her mind, but she already knew the answer.
She knew it because she was coming to know what made Lisa tick deep down
inside. But she still had to ask it, for scientific and professional
reasons.

"So this is where everything comes together. Anna's transition from one
life quest to another. Practically a rebirth in Anna's entire personality
actually. Martha's part as the training aid for Anna's blossoming new
passion as well as the recipient of all your own limitless sadistic dreams
and desires. And then the method of "transference" as you called it, that
would start the whole ball rolling if you will. It all begins with a single
event, Anna's enlightenment that her Olympic dream is no more."

Lisa looked upon the doctor with a big open smile and twinkling eyes.

"Why yes Doctor! That's absolutely correct! I was wondering if you were
really paying attention to me while you were diligently writing god knows
what in that book of yours. I am very impressed!"

Doctor Bridgestone gave a small brief smile in return.

"Could you elaborate a bit more in that transference method you mentioned?"

"Sure, of course doctor. It really is quite simple as you will soon see. As
I said before, in the beginning it's very easy. My patients enthusiasm is
at a high and I start off really slow. I relate to them not only as their
medical therapist and personal trainer, but as their closest dearest friend
on earth. I inspire them to always give their best with no holding back.
Over and over again I tell them why they are doing this. So it basically
becomes a ritual or a mantra with them. With each successive increase in
repetition, in speed and in endurance, I act as if it was a grand
accomplishment with lots of verbal congratulations and eager fondling. The
more mile stones transversed the more passionate our celebration becomes.
And the more controlling and demanding I become too.

Their growing positive results blind them to how much "I" have changed in
the process. A change that demands them to do more, to last longer and to
be the virtual instrument of my will. I almost literally take on the
persona of a military drill sargent with bold dominating body language
thrown in as the icing on the cake. This is the part I love the most. For
it allows my sadistic side to come out in full regalia. I can taunt them,
belittle them and yes, I can even physically abuse them if I wish with a
slap here, a poke there and even a grasp, squeeze and twist on any body
part I so desire. My voice is harsh and rises in volume, my words mock and
sting their fragile ego's, and my touch is no longer one of tender
compassion. I smack, grasp and pull on their flesh to motivate them. No
longer do I choose the carrot approach, it is now time for the stick. And I
do use one too, all be it in the form of a riding crop.

It's all so utterly amazing in a way. How they come to accept my sadistic
domination of them as part of their therapy. Even Anna followed suit just
like all the rest. Although I was much less aggressive in her case. But it
didn't matter though, for they all lead to the same end, like it or not."

"Which is?"

"Sooner or later they all plateau out. They reach a level where their
physical rebirth has peaked. For them to train any longer or anymore
vigorously would be more of a step back then forward. The bad news for them
is that they are far from reaching their desired goal, which was to be like
they once were."

"Then what happens Lisa."

"Then it really becomes a mind game. Up to this point it has been a simple
exercise in mind over matter. The psychological motivation I instill in
them is enough for them to persevere through the most ruthless therapy
sessions I can put them through. But once they recognized that they have
reached the final plateau in their development, they begin to change. They
begin to see the reality of their situation and they don't like it one bit!
And as a result, they start to see me in a new light and thus I become the
bad guy now.

So now I'm the one who is causing them all the pain and heart break. Which
is not totally untrue, but they see me as the "initial cause" of there turn
about in life as well. Their total devastation from realizing that they
will never be like they were is overwhelming for them, and it clouds their
powers of reason and judgement. It makes them lash out at whoever is
causing them pain at the moment. Which of course is me."

"Ohhh, I see. This is where the transference takes over then."

"Yes! All I have to do is to reroute all those nasty feelings they have
towards me to someone else. And once I regain my position as their best
friend and devoted lover in life, my complete domination over them is all
down hill from that point on. And there is always someone else to blame. Be
it a parent, a sibling, a friend, a brief negative encounter with a
stranger, whomever, there is always someone there. I just have to dig deep
enough into their psyche to find that one individual for them to focus all
manner of hellish wrath upon and the hardest part is now done."

"And for Anna that would be Martha, correct?"

"YES! Once I found that escape goat then it's time for me to work my magic
again. Just like before, I am their closest and dearest friend. I empathize
with their pain and anguish in not obtaining their desired goal. But I tell
them that I am not the one they should be angry with. For it was I, and I
alone, who always told them the truth. Who worked with them diligently to
improve their physical health a hundred fold. And who loves them in all
that they are and ever will be. Then I remind them who actually caused them
to be in this situation to begin with, and that's when the transference
takes place.  The escape goat becomes the target for all their negative
feelings in life from that point on and I am off the hook. In fact, I am
seen in a completely different light now. A combination of Angel of Mercy,
best friend in the world, and the start of being their dominating lover."

Doctor Bridgestone began tapping the end of her pen on her notebook as if
trying to comprehend something. Not readily seeing the answer she decided
to ask Lisa.

"I'm having a hard time seeing how that last step happens Lisa. Could you
elaborate on it a little more?"

"Sure, it has to do with shared extremes. You know how some people, perfect
strangers no less, who share something extraordinary in their lives can
become great friends afterwards, sometimes for life. And in some cases the
relationship can even result in marriage."

"Oh yes. Sharing an important event, especially one which has the effect of
showing the true nature of the person in glaring detail can act to bring
people very close together, or drive them further apart if the case maybe.
And quite a significant number of marriages have arisen from this sudden
unexpected union of two people under extraordinary conditions which result
in favorable consequences for both parties. . . . Or if the case maybe,
divorce, if it entailed great betrayal."

The last phrase the doctor said in a low voice as she looked off to the
side as if she was remembering something in her own past.

"Exactly doctor! And what I share with them is the extreme event of pain
and pleasure. One draw back to my therapy is that it must always be done on
a regular basis. Any lax in my patients dedication to their routine will
only result in them moving backwards. Even back enough to the point when I
first found them if they are persistent in their abstinence. That's why the
escape goat is so necessary. It allows them to focus their negative
thoughts on them while they go through the discomfort and pain of their
therapy. And I am right there with them. Goading them on with their hatred
for the person responsible for their pain, for there broken dreams and for
their forced change in life.

I even entrap them with scenarios of the mind. They would be running on a
tread mill or riding a stationary bike and I would be whispering in their
ear that their hated foe was right there in front of them trying to get
away. Their minds easily fill in the rest of that image as they begin to
exert themselves more and more in catching them. And that's when I crank up
the resistance on the machine more and more too. They are so involved in
their little revenge seeking fantasy that they don't even notice me
touching them again. This time I concentrate fully on there erotic pleasure
zones. Oh they can feel it all right, the pleasure of my touch. But they
are too focused on other things to give it full awareness. And this is how
it starts. Little by little, adding more and more pleasure to their
physical pain and mental distress.

Sooner or later their bodies give out, complete exhaustion. I immediately
take them in my arms like a sleeping child and lay them down on the floor.
Their hearts are racing, their breathing is like a locomotive running full
out and their bodies begin to feel the thunderous pain that their minds and
endorphins have shunted out for awhile. Physically helpless and mentally in
despair, they in the perfect state for conquest and they are all mine.

I so love the feel of a physically distressed female. Their hot sweaty body
next to mine. My hands and skin seem to glides over theirs because of the
way their sweat acts like a natural lubricant. And when I kiss them, and
lick them, I can readily taste their unique salty flavor. But the best part
of all is their smell. The rich erotic musk scent full of their pheromones
is like a direct connection to my clit. It makes me want to fuck them until
our hearts burst."

The doctor was once again writing in her book a mile a minute. She didn't
even stop when she asked the next question.

"And your patients don't even try to stop you? Don't they realized that
they are for all practical purposes being raped by you?"

"Ha, ha, ha, ha! Stop me? At that point and time they're lucky to know
their own names. And as far as stopping me because I am "raping" them as
you put it. What for? These women know only three things, pain, emotional
devastation and focused anger. Their life long dream is gone, forever. And
the only thing that keeps them going is their hatred for the person who did
them in. There is absolutely nothing good happening in their sorrowful
lonely lives. Remember, I have cut them off from the world, even the two
servants are of no help to them. I am the only one they can count on. I am
the only one who would tell them the truth, good or bad. And I am the only
one to give them purpose in life. Thus, when they do experience something
nice, something physically pleasing, something that no one will tell them
is wrong or evil or that they should never do, how could they turn their
backs on that? I give and they take. And with gratitude I might add!"

"And that's what happened to Anna?"

Lisa hesitated for a few seconds before quickly looking away. Her whole
emotional euphoria suddenly switched off. And in it's place was a sad quiet
demure. She took a deep breath and sighed. Neither one of them made a sound
for the longest time. And it was critical for the doctor to purposefully
wait for Lisa to make the first move.

Lisa was just sitting there looking down at the blanket that covered her,
but not really seeing it. The period of silence ended with a small smile on
Lisa's face as she turned her head and looked to the doctor again. She then
continued, but in a more reserved tone.

"At that point, one of three things will happen. The most common one being
that the patient begins to give back what she receives. Once they have
broken through that mental barrier of lesbian love being bad, they are all
mine. Heart, mind and soul. Before, the scales were tipped drastically in
their favor with me giving 100% of the time. But once they start to give
back in kind, then the scales begin to shift. In a very short time the
relationship between me and my patient is one of being your basic vanilla
50-50 girl to girl equal. Then I push things, and of course they follow
like trusting little puppy dogs. Again, we start out slowly, but soon I am
dictating what I want, when I want and how I want it. The scales have
shifted overwhelmingly in my favor, and now I have the devoted submissive
lover that I set out to have in the first place."

The doctor was able to see the reason why there was such a great and
immediate change in Lisa's personality after her question.

"And that's not what happened to Anna."

"No. The other two things that can happen are not as common, but directly
related to the same reason. That being the inability of my patients to
break through that lesbian barrier. Either my patients get really upset
with what is happening to them and end our relationship completely. Those
are the ones who would call me a dyke bitch or the sadistic bitch in white.
The other negative result is that they simply will not give back in kind.
And that's how it was with Anna. Except for one distinction."

"Except?"

"For some reason, Anna became psychologically stuck. Once I established
Anna's hatred for Martha, it seemed to consume her. The periods of pleasure
I tried to give her didn't seem to work anymore. In fact, she seemed to
have regressed back a bit. Oh I could touch her all right, but it was
virtually impossible for her to become aroused by it anymore. It almost
seemed like the only time she did become aroused was when she only thought
of Martha in the context of revenge. I figured she was developing into a
perfect little sadist like me. And for awhile I thought I could still make
her love me too, or so I wanted to believe. Then one day she came to me
with some evidence regarding Martha. I didn't know it until right then, but
my dear precious Anna was quite an accomplished computer geek. Somehow,
someway, in the little time I allowed her to be by herself, she had found
out that Martha was embezzling money from the college where she worked.
Anna brought the evidence to me one day and thought it would be a good way
to blackmail Martha with."

"Wasn't that what you wanted all along? Part of your great plan as I
remember."

"Yes. But Anna had radically jumped the gun. I wanted to establish an
intimate lesbian relationship with her first, then bring in Martha. I had
all manner of fantasies of both of us making love together in bed while
Martha was in the background moaning and groaning from the pain and
humiliation Anna and I had inflicted upon her prior to it. And bringing in
Martha now would result in having those intimate nights of passion with
my dear sweet Anna fall by the way side. So I stalled her. I told Anna that
what she found was great, but we needed more. It worked for a couple of
days then Anna came back to me with all manners of financial blackmailing
evidence.  Later I found out that she had planted it all with her computer
skills.

So when she showed me all that she had, what could I say? Thus we decided
to invite Martha over on a rouse and then spring upon what we had on her
and our ultimatum."

"So in reality, it was actually Anna who started the blackmailing ball
rolling then."

"Yea, surprise, surprise. What's that old saying "The best laid plans of
mice and men,"

"Often go astray. Oh yes, I know that one very well indeed." Doctor
Bridgestone again looked off to the side as if in quiet reflection. Then a
noise outside in the hall broke her trace like stare.

"Let's see. It's about 10:30 now. How about we continue our discussion
after lunch, say about 2 pm. That will give you plenty of time to eat and
rest for a bit before we start again fresh this afternoon. That should give
me enough time to see to other matters that I have pending for today as
well."

"Sure Doctor Bridgestone, that will be fine."

"Is there anything special you would like me to have the orderly bring you
for lunch?"

"Hmmm, just a light salad with vinegar dressing on the side and a
strawberry yogurt, low fat."

"Very well Lisa. Have a pleasant lunch and I will see you at 2 then."

"You too doctor."

The woman doctor left the room with her well used notebook clenched close
to her breast. On her way down the hall she stopped at the nurse's station
and asked the nurse for Lisa's chart. She entered some notes regarding
medication and the current status of her patient's health. Then she told
the nurse on duty to relay her patient's lunch request to the proper
department. She took a few minutes to briefly review the charts of other
patients related to her staff just to keep tabs on how they were doing. All
those patients seemed to be doing very well too, a good reflection on the
quality of people she had working under her.

When she was finished with the paper work it was pretty close to lunch
time. So the woman doctor decided to beat the crowd and have an early
lunch. This way she could spend more time with her "other" patient before
going back to Lisa again.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.

Those wishing to send Mistress Jytte E-mail can do so by sending it to me
and I will forward it directly to her.




                               "Fate"


                                 by

                            Mistress Jytte

                                 &

                               Musker



                              (part 3)


                           "Dear Friend"



In another part of the hospital was the good doctor Bridgestone. She was in
the sub-basement, which was the only original part of the hospital that had
yet to be renovated. It was currently being used as storage facility for
all the outdated medical and administrated equipment.

She was sitting alone in what was once an observation room. A simple little
room with chairs facing a big one way mirror. It was reminiscent of the
time when the hospital was once a pillar of learning for aspiring young
doctors of the new science called psychology. It was also the last stop for
the mentally and criminally insane.

In many ways it still had the eerie feeling of a museum. A macabre place
of ghastly artifacts that were suggestive of how things were once done a
few decades ago. During a time when the treatment for the mentally ill
boarder on being pure barbaric.

This type of treatment had always fascinated Doctor Bridegstone throughout
her long and celebrated career. In fact, she was working on developing some
very unorthodox methods in the field of learning that reflected some of
those ignorant and torturous ways of the past. Methods that if her fellow
colleagues knew about, they would surely think her mad. And if she dared to
bring them into the lime light, she would no doubt be a patient of the same
hospital that she herself held the lofty position of chief of staff in.

So she decided to take an early retirement and begin experimenting in her
own private institute of learning, funded by many grateful patrons. But
then fate stepped in and brought her "Dear Friend" back into her life.
Which was the reason for her sitting in this old observation room, looking
through the one way mirror and into the next room that her staff
euphemistically called the "Dungeon".

She crossed her legs and opened the file folder she had on her lap. It
belonged to a Ms. Jane Doe. It was the name of the woman who was first
brought into the hospital along with Lisa and Anna. She quietly sat and
began reading the information that was medically encrypted there.

It was the usual things. Height 5' 8", weight about 105 lbs, blonde hair,
blue eyes, age to be in the mid 30's and general health to be fair. She was
brought in as an unconscious accident victim, but her wounds were nothing
more than some scrapes and bruises. The file also had the medication
prescribed for her and some notes of observations made by the attending
nurse, a Ms. Amanda Blake.

The woman doctor smiled when she read some of her comments. "Paranoia,
delusional, physically violent, verbally abusive, mood swings," all those
characteristics that labeled one as being severely and dangerously mentally
disturbed. Just like the good doctor wanted everyone to think of her "Dear
Friend" Martha, alias Ms. Jane Doe.

She made a notation in the medication column and then signed her initials
next to it. There was no longer a need to administer that medication any
more. She already obtained the results she wanted, now that Martha was
clinically labeled as being a psychotic in the hospital database. Whatever
Martha said to the doctors and nurses when she regained consciousness in
the emergency ward would be of no consequence now. It would all be
characterized as the simple ramblings of a poor sick mind. It also made it
easier for her to move Martha out of the private security ward and down
here into the sub-basement.

Getting rid of any violent patient always made the nursing staff feel good.
Besides, no one really cared where they were moved to in the process, as
long as it was off their floor. And administration least of all, especially
when they found a patient to be lacking insurance, as was her Dear Friend.
But for the record, Martha was transferred to a more specialized health
care facility in another state. A place which had the resources and
equipment to handled such violent, destitute and mentally ill patients like
poor Martha.

The good doctor closed the file and put it off to the side. It would remain
down here from now on. Far and away from the possible prying eyes of a too
curious and much too dedicated staff member.

She leaned back in her chair and took a long casual look at her Dear
Friend. She placed her hand to her lips in an attempt to hold back a giggle
at what she saw. 'Finally', she thought, 'fate had smiled down upon her.'
Then the highly educated, award winning and much respected woman doctor of
behavioral psychology let out one big revengeful laugh at the image she was
looking at.

In the other room was Martha, quietly resting by herself. She had shed her
former canvas cocoon and was now completely nude. She was sort of "sitting"
and waiting for someone, anyone really. She was sitting on what was once
called a "wooden horse". Two large flat boards formed into an erect
triangle, to which Martha was forced to sit on it's peak. She was
straddling it with each leg flush up against the side of each board.
Normally, with her legs stretched straight down along the surface of the
boards, a good part of her foot would be placed solidly on the floor. That
way she could easily keep her body weight off that long nasty wooden edge,
and well balanced on her own two feet. Except her two feet were not on the
floor.

Her legs were bent at the knees and her ankle cuffs fastened to the upper
sides of those two boards just behind her. She was thus forced to maintain
her balance by hugging the ruff wooden surface of the horse with the inside
of her tender thighs and calves. Which thus made her rest her entire body
weight on the most sensitive area of the female body and that narrow wooden
edge.

Of course she could use her hands to help dissipate the tremendous pressure
and pain that her crotch area was now experiencing, except for one thing.
Those hospital issued brown leather straps that once bound her so securely
and comfortably in that canvas cocoon now bound her arms behind her back at
her wrists and arms. They were there to keep them from performing any
unwanted mischief, like trying to ease her painful situation on the horse.

A tether from her bound wrists went up to a ceiling hook and then back down
to a wall crank. This arrangement forced her arms to remain in a position
that was perpendicular to her erect torso. A position that added to her
painful plight.

The woman doctor was quite taken with Martha's very still appearance. She
knew Martha was still conscious, because of the occasional finger flexing
that she saw to keep the blood circulating in her hands and arms. She also
could hear a faint repeating groan, indicating that her "Dear Friend"
was in a constant state of wakeful lingering agony. And then there was the
occasional waves of drool coming from her gagged mouth. At first the woman
doctor was perplexed, as to how it was done. What with such a big rubber
ball wedged so tightly in her mouth that her own lips were stretch taught
against it. But with a much more watchful eye the woman doctor could see
some jaw flexing that coincided with the next batch of drool that oozed out
from the corners of her mouth.

She took a quick look at her watch and seemed amazed. She then picked up
her ever present notebook and made a notation on one of the back pages. It
seemed that Martha must have been in really good shape to take such
physical punishment for such a long time and still remain conscious. She
speculated that it was no doubt due to Lisa's and Anna's handiwork.
Something she was interested in finding more about with her next session
with Lisa.

All of a sudden the door to Martha's room opened and an African American
nurse came in wheeling a small shelved cart. It was Amanda.

The woman doctor looked at the black nurse with happy, appreciate eyes. For
it was Amanda who was not only her most promising student, but was the one
who immediately alerted her to Martha's presence in the emergency room. She
remembered receiving a call from her late one evening, and when she heard
the reason for Amanda's excited voice over the phone, the conversation that
followed was one of mutual conspiratorial revenge. For both Doctor
Bridgestone and Amanda had their own special reasons for detesting Martha
to the core.

Doctor Bridgestone despised her because it was Martha who had had an affair
with her husband, now since divorced. Such an obscene betrayal in her life
went on for months and cost her much in her social and academic standing,
not to mention her own emotional stability. She really loved her husband
and never knew the affair even existed. She was shocked into knowing by
Martha herself, in a letter she sent with pictures of herself and her
husband in many intimate situations. Although Martha never came out and
said it in words, Doctor Bridgestone knew the real reason for it was pure
blackmail. But the good woman doctor would have none of it. She immediately
divorced her husband, who she reluctantly still loved, and took time off to
get herself together and her life back on track. Oh she knew her husband
was equally at fault too, but somehow she knew Martha was the instigator of
it all. And now in her never fully recovered and scared mind, she was going
to get her pound of flesh in delicious satisfying revenge.

Amanda wanted to get even with Martha too, but for a different reason. Her
older sister, Belinda, wanted to become a professional athlete and looked
up to Martha because of her own success and teaching skills in said field.
But her dear sister had a weight problem. It wasn't anything way out of
control or kept her from performing successfully. She was just a tiny bit
heavy below the waist. But Martha told her in short order to loose it or
don't bother her ever again.

Belinda tried, she tried really hard, but nothing seemed to work. Nothing
until Martha gave her some illegal diet pills. Diet pills that made her
loose the weight all right, but they also got her started on the path to
other drugs as well. Steroids, muscle relaxers, uppers, downers, the whole
drug scene became a dominant part of her sister's life. And then that led
to performance problems, and money problems, and prostitution, and getting
expelled from college and then out on the street turning tricks for a high.

Amanda tried to help her sister, but Belinda was too far gone. Becoming a
dedicated nurse and now studying under the renowned Doctor Bridgestone was
Amanda's way of turning something bad into something good in memory of her
beloved sister. That, and having a constant simmering appetite to get even
with her sister's coach and villainous drug pusher Martha!

Doctor Bridgestone and Amanda knew of one another's hatred of Martha. Being
so close to one another in the academic field makes it easy to share some
private intimate incidents in one another's life. So when Amanda saw Martha
that fateful night in the emergency ward she knew their dream for revenge
was just about to come true. She immediately called Doctor Bridgestone at
her home and the two came up with a plan. A plan that would satisfy both
their desires for revenge, as well as providing the good doctor with a
guinea pig to practice her new teaching technique's on. That is before
going out in private practice.

That night nurse Amanda made the waking acquaintance of Martha, as she was
taking her vital signs. The emergency staff had already dealt with her when
she was unconscious and put her on a less critical list. Amanda knew she
would not be recognized by Martha because they only met a couple of times
when her big sister was in a few competitive events, and even then the
drama and confusion of those times overshadowed any lasting impression the
two might of had. Besides, there was very little resemblance between her
and her sister Belinda anyway. Amanda being more petite and far more pretty
than her older sibling. Thus it was easy for nurse Amanda to take Martha's
blood pressure and pulse rate without her patient knowing who she really
was or the revenge that the dynamic duel had planned for her.

Martha regained consciousness in a very hyper state. She kept going on and
on about some horrid tale of being blackmailed, tortured, and made to
preform as a lesbian sex slave to two women who were intent on destroying
her. As her current situation in the hospital was proof of. But Amanda was
only half listening to her fantastic story as she quickly prepared a
special syringe prescribed by the chief of staff herself, and fellow
conspirator.

Amanda gave the injection to her patient with a big sinister smile. Telling
her, on the brink of laughter, that it will make her feel better in no time
at all. While the drugs were coursing through Martha's veins, Doctor
Bridgestone was well on her way to the hospital. She was most eager to meet
her "Dear Friend" on her own home ground this time.

When the woman doctor arrived, Martha was well into her second violent
psychotic episode. It took two big male attendants and two nurses to get
her under control. Then Doctor Bridgestone ordered up another shot, a
strong sedative this time. And it put Martha right out cold.

When Martha was lying a sleep, dead to the world, all four of the staff who
help ed take Martha down were in need of medical attention themselves. They
had bruises, bloody scratches and even a couple of bite marks that Martha
had administered without mercy in her dire quest to escape her science
created hallucinations of hell.

Once Martha was under control Amanda transported the sleeping beauty to the
highly restricted mental ward. And once there, alone, and safely in the
padded room, Amanda took her time encasing Martha in the full length
cocooned straight jacket, with it's myriad of heavy leather straps and
strong buckles.

Martha was still fast asleep when Amanda weaved the matching headharness
into place. She took her time making sure each strap was positioned just
right about Martha's head and face. The straps themselves were buckled
loosly at first until the whole harness and fowl tasting leather pouch gag
was right where Amanda wanted them. Then she systematically tightened each
one until the leather bit deep into Marth's face and skull. And that's how
Amanda left her. Like an encapsulated caterpillar in it's immobile
carapace, waiting to be reborn into whatever Doctor Bridegestone and
Amanda's revengeful heart and minds could thing of.

At that point the good doctor worked her magic as chief of staff. She
immediately had Martha put under her exclusive care with Amanda as the only
attending nurse. The next night, late into Amanda shift, she had Amanda
give Martha a low grade sedative, which made it easier and quieter to
transfer Martha to her new room down in the sub-basement. It took a bit of
doing on Amanda's part for Martha was much bigger than her, but she soon
had Martha riding that horse in all her painstaking naked glory.

Now the woman doctor quickly cleaned and adjusted her glasses for a good
look see. This was going to be the first time that she witnessed the
interaction between her assistant and her "Dear Friend", and she was eager
to see what transpired between them.

Amanda wheeled the cart off to the side and approached the strained body of
her most important patient. She stood there for a moment, at arms length,
drinking in every last drop from her cup of sweet revenge. Then, with
mindful purpose, she strolled around her hated foe studying her like an art
critic grading a sculpted piece of marble. Her eyes went wide in a long
blissful stare over those area's of Martha's distressed carcass that stood
out with unique fascination. Like the overdeveloped muscle structure of
Martha's lower body that was in direct sharp contrast to her almost
emaciated upper body. Then there were the scars, mostly whip marks, on the
fleshy part of her ass and hips. But two of them were not like the others.
They were distinct, well formed and made from something that burned deep
into the skin of her upper left thigh. These brand marks were made up of
two capital letters, one over the other and separated by a slash. She
smiled when her eyes caught the hard raised skin that formed into the
letter "A". The same first letter of her own pretty name, Amanda.

When she came full circle, she stopped and folded her arms across her
chest. She stood in calm, heartless, mocking defiance to Martha's long
painful plight. She took one, two and then three steps back. Back far
enough to view this living exhibit in all it's agonizing wretched beauty.
Then she smiled. A big, wide, open mouth smile that seemed to dominate her
lovely innocent Nubian face. She was smiling because of what this woman
represented to her. This was a woman in unbelievable torment! Suffering, so
deep and so extreme, as to go far beyond the pains of the flesh, but to the
very scaring of her immortal soul. And this was an excellent beginning in
satiating Amanda's need for revenge. Revenge that she swore on her sister's
grave that she would one day reap upon this very same woman.

But Amanda felt something else too. Something other than the supreme
delight of vengeance. It was something that also puzzled her a great deal
as well. She felt, aroused!

'How could I feel such an unnatural sense of erotic pleasure at a time like
this' she would ask herself. 'I am a nurse, an angel of mercy for God's
sake! A person dedicated to helping those in need.' She could understand
why she felt so joyful when she saw the woman responsible for her sister's
demise finally getting her just deserved due. But she just could not
comprehend why she felt so moved, sexually, by what she saw as well.

Martha did her best to remain as still as the grave in her agonizing
condition, while the attending nurse took her time in appraising her like a
vulture over a dying road kill. She already knew that the black nurse's
presence was not a reason to celebrate her hopeful release. She vaguely
remembered this nurse as being one of the people she had attacked when she
went crazy in the emergency ward. And she also remembered that during her
in and out sedative state that it was this black nurse which was
responsible for her current physical condition as well. So any hope Martha
had for the near future was for things not to get any worst.

Amanda approached the drooping drooling head of her quarry and then stood
off to the side facing the big mirror. The same mirror of which the good
doctor sat on the other side, leaning forward and staring intently at both
of them now.

The confident black nurse in her spotless white starched uniform reached to
the top of the drooping head of her still immobile prey and grabbed a fist
full of her sweat drenched matted hair. She jerked the inert head up and
back. A hard hurting groan was heard escaping from around the ball gag as
saliva and sweat flew out into the air in an arc at the same time.

"Well Ms. Doe, you have been here for some time now. Would it be safe to
say that you have learned your lesson?"

Holding her eyes tightly shut from the added pain of having her hair
practically pulled out by it's roots as well as having her head forced
unnaturally back until she was facing the ceiling, Martha wailed out a
garbled YES!

"No more screaming? No more kicking? No more lashing out or trying to bite
those who are trying to help you?" After each question Amanda purposefully
shook Martha head by her hair to make her point all that more poignant.

A few fresh tears rolled down Martha's cheek. That was all that she had
left to give in her unrelenting tortured state. She didn't understand why
she did those things, but she did. For some reason she just couldn't help
it. It was as if she had lost complete control of herself. All she wanted
to do was to escape and run away from the evil that she felt was about to
pounce upon her. And if anyone got in her way she had to hurt them, bad,
before they had a chance to hurt her. But now those feelings had magically
disappeared, completely.

So Martha was honest when she answered Amanda's questions with a few short
affirmative grunts.

"Good! But let me warn you Ms. Doe. If I experience even the least bit of
resistance on your part, I swear, you will regret it even more so than you
do now. Do you understand me?" Amanda really pulled back hard on Martha's
head causing Martha to yell YES at the top of her exhausted lungs through
her ball gag with even more saliva spewing forth like a fountain.

"Very good Ms. Doe." And with that Amanda released Martha's hair letting
her head fall back down in front of her like a lifeless rag doll.

Doctor Bridgestone and Amanda had a previous little talk pertaining to
whether they should let Martha know who's everyone was and what was going
to happen to her. But since Martha never told anyone her name in the
emergency ward before going schizoid, and her remaining gagged ever since,
they decided to keep things cloudy. Thus the reason for Amanda to call
Martha Ms. Doe. It was like having two aces in the hole and both
conspirators wanted to play them only at the right time for their maximum
benifit.

Amanda moved to the back of the horse and began unfastening the cuffs that
held Martha's legs up behind her.

"Now I am going to release you Ms. Doe and then bath you. You are very
sweaty and smelly, and in desperate need of a thorough cleaning. After that
I will feed you, allow you to go to the rest room and then put you to bed
for a good night's rest."

When one of her ankles was released it quickly dragged itself down the side
of the slanted board before stopping from the heated friction near the
bottom. Even with Martha's above average muscle development in her legs she
still felt the nasty muscle aches and spasms that went with keeping a
body's appendages in one position for too long. She was barely able to make
her toes touch the floor when her other ankle was suddenly released. And
that too slid like dead weight to the bottom.

Martha was eager to shift her body weight from resting on her swollen
painful crotch and back onto her own two feet, but it was hard going. The
horse was too tall to make this an easy task. She had to extend her legs
arduously straight down and then bend her foot as if she were wearing high
heeled shoes in order to make contact.

"I am ready to release your arms Ms. Doe, but not until you are able to
balance yourself on your legs. I have no desire to try and hold you up by
myself and risk getting my clean uniform soiled by your fowl smelly body.
So as soon as you are ready just let me know."

Amanda stood behind Martha near the wall where the crank was that would
lower her arms. She watched with a happy gleam in her eye as Martha tried
as quickly as possible to get her legs back into working order. She could
only imagine how dreadful the pain was in her nemeses shoulders and arms
with them being held in that distressing position for so long. And that one
factual thought brought more joy to Amanda's gluttonous vindictive spirit
than all the dreams and fantasies she conjured up when she was alone and
thinking of revenge.

It didn't take long before Martha had herself steady under her own power.
She made a very audible groan of acknowledgment to the nurse when she was
ready. A good part of that groan was from freeing her crotch from the
burden of being the sole supporter of her entire body weight. So severe was
this pain that she thought to temper it a little by once again letting her
body weight rest back upon that bastard edge. But she soon found out that
her bright idea only made it worst. So she quickly went back up on her toes
and forced herself to experience even more pain from having her swollen
throbbing crotch set free.

"Are you sure your ready Ms. Doe? You seem to be dancing around a bit as if
you actually like ridding your little horsey." Amanda could not help adding
that little childish dig to her patient's further distress.

Martha immediately began shaking her head up and down in a flamboyant
manner to the nurse's question and then immediately follow it with an
equally outrageous head twisting NO to her comment of wanting to continue
to ride her horsey.

"Now you are confusing me Ms. Doe. The way you keep shaking your head in
different direction I can not tell if you want me to release you or not.
Maybe I should leave you like this for awhile and come back in a few hours
when you have finally made up your mind."

Again Martha went into an elaborate head twisting NO accompanied by a loud
groaning response that told Amanda not to go, not to leave her like this
and to please, please, please release her.

"All right then. I will ask you this one more time. Are you ready for me to
lower your arms Ms. Doe?"

Amanda purposefully delayed her helpless victim's release as long as she
could. She knew the most psychologically distressing time for Martha would
be on the brink of freedom. The intense anticipation of relief being only
seconds away and then being denied it because of some simple stupid
miscommunication going on between them. The physical and mental stress was
quickly putting Martha on the verge of a complete emotional break down
while Amanda was loving every minute of it. Even the woman doctor, on the
other side of the mirror, was squirming in her chair with satisfying glee.

Once more Martha made the affirmative horse shaking head nod and the
associated equally outlandish saliva spitting groan to make her answer as
simple and as loud as possible.

"There now, that was wasn't hard at all once you made your mind up. Right
Ms. Doe?"

Martha's head drooped forward. She was far too tired and far too much in
pain to answer such a stupid rhetorical question like that.

Amanda flicked a switch and began to let the crank of the winch turn. With
each slow clicking revolution the rope tether that held Martha's arms in
their painful position was lengthen. She watched with curious interest as
to how Martha's body would react to having her arms put back into a much
less stressful bound position directly behind her.

It HURT! It was focused pain that took over Martha's complete awareness.
The only thought that quickly passed through her mind was death, she longed
for it. The only brief diversion from the monumental hard throbbing pain
that echoed deafeningly in her shoulders was the sharp stabbing shock she
felt when her red swollen crotch accidental thumped down upon that nasty
wooden edge as a result of her knees buckling for an instant.

In the far far corner of Martha's mind, were fading consciousness bordered
on surreal sleepy dreams, a question was being formed. A question only a
mind free of the painful realities of life could ever conceive. A question
based on the sole lesser of evils. The question of which was worse, the
pain of having her arms released from the strained unnatural position that
they were in, or the pain she experienced in getting them and keeping them
there in the first place?

As more and more of the arm tether was slowly released, Martha's body began
to slump forward until she looked as if she was going to fall over. Her
upper body did not have the exceptional strength of her lower body and her
weak back muscles were in the same state of strained hurting exhaustion as
her shoulders were. Then all of a sudden the winch stopped.

"Ms. Doe, you told me most decisively that you would be able to balance
yourself on your own two feet when I let down your arms. But all I see is a
woman ready to fall off her horse and right onto her face. Don't you know
you can hurt yourself doing that?"

Amanda could hardly hold back from giggling when she purposely said such a
stupid thing like that. But the good woman doctor had no such qualms about
holding back a good hardy belly laugh in her sound proof observation room.

"Patient care is of the upmost importance to this hospital and to the
dedicated staff of doctors and nurses who work here. And having patients
falling down on the floor is strictly prohibited! Either you get yourself
under control and standing erect on your own two feet this very minute, or
I will just have to change settings on this winch and pull you back up by
your arms. I will not permit you to hurt yourself in anyway Ms. Doe. Now
which way will it be?"

Amanda quickly put her hand to her mouth to cut off an outburst of laughter
that was well on it's way to coming out. Once more the woman doctor had no
restrictions on her composure and was laughing so hard that tears were
running down her cheeks. The reason for which was in dramatic contrast to
what was causing Martha's tears to flow.

Upon hearing the threat of becoming once more a twisted puppet on a string,
Martha immediately summoned up as much energy as she could and began to
move. Straining, gut wrenching moans told her story in agonizing detail.
Her jerking upper body atoned to the fact of her lack of muscle control and
to the painfully damaged muscles that did their very best to raise her back
up and into the desired position set forth by the nurse in charge of her
every comfort.

"Very good Ms. Doe. I will now continue lowering your arms."

A sharp shrill of agony screeched forth when Martha's arms began to rise
again.

"My goodness sakes! Now how did that happen? Oh well, good thing I caught
it in time. Let me reverse direction again and then we can continue. It
won't take more than a minute to get your arms back down Ms. Doe."

But the nurse was wrong. It took several, long, eye scrunching minutes
before Martha's numb sleeping hands could feel the ridge of the board
behind her again.

"There you are Ms. Doe. Now if you wouldn't mind working yourself forward
and off that special behavioral device for me, then I can remove those
straps that are keeping your arms together behind your back. And DON'T
FALL! Or there will be hell to pay, for the both of us!"

'Hell', Martha thought to herself. She never left it since she was
blackmailed into it by Lisa and Anna a couple of months ago. Her present
situation was just another variation on the theme. Her only salvation for
her continued persecution in life was to simply hope. Hope that with each
new nightmarish episode she experienced, she would one day soon find it all
over with, forever. She had thought the accident followed by her awaking in
the hospital that, that very day had arrived. But she was wrong. Her
tormented saga continued here in the hospital too, but hopefully, it would
only be for a little while longer.

So she took those necessary little steps forward. Dragging her puffy red
pussy lips along the rough splintered edge of the horse. Magnifying a
thousand fold the grievous painful consequences of her actions. She tried
to use her hands and arms to help in her balancing, and to relieve some of
the burning friction on her pussy, but they were of no use. Her arms were
too far gone as a result of their own right of passage in being
sadistically bound skyward behind her.

"Come along now Ms. Doe. The faster you extricate yourself from there the
quicker I can free you. Then I can clean you up, feed you and put you to
bed. Wouldn't you like that Ms. Doe? Being all nice and clean, having a
good meal to fill your empty belly and then being put to bed on some nice
clean sheets with a warm blanket to comfort you. Doesn't that sound
wonderful Ms. Doe?"

Motivation, that's what Amanda was doing. She was mentally holding that
carrot out in front of Martha. Motivating her with the promise of physical
contentment if she would only go through hell to get there first. The same
exact technique that Lisa and Anna had used on her over and over again to
get her to literally jump at the snap of their fingers. And it all started
with a simple contract between them. Ha! A contract, it was nothing more
than blackmail wrapped up in a promissory note. She promised to be their
chattel for a few months and in return they would give her all the
incriminating evidence they had on her.

She thought it would be easy. Just a few months of simple obedience and
servitude, then her life, her future, would be her's to do with as she
desired once more. But if only she knew that those two were in league with
the devil, then she would have gladly chosen jail instead. At least there
she was guaranteed by law to be free from cruel and unusual punishment.
Unlike what those two disciples of Satan guaranteed her.

Martha was just about there now. One more thrust forward and she would
finally be off that damn horse. She took a moment, to breathe, to let the
searing pain emanating from her poor traumatic crotch dampen down a bit.
Then closing her eyes tightly and with one final push forward, fueled more
from hateful memories than from positive motivation, she jerked herself off
the horse.

With her feet flat on the floor and her two amazingly strong legs spread
wide and keeping her up right, Martha felt a final wave of spiking
radiating pain course through her body. So powerful was it, that her body
vibrated uncontrollably from being totally engulfed by it. If Lisa and Anna
had not done such a good job in acclimating her to their sadistic
pleasures then she would have surely passed out and fell to the floor.

"Very good Ms. Doe", Amanda exclaimed with an amazed supportive tone in her
voice. "Now that wasn't hard at all, now was it?" Again, her sarcastic and
patronizing voice echoed her true feelings toward Martha.

Martha did not reply to the faint distant voice that tried to permeate her
pain retching austere. But as her awareness of the world around her grew,
her concern was still for herself. For the happy relief of finally being
off that damn horse and the eager expectations of a promise waiting to be
fulfilled.

"All right Ms. Doe, let's get those straps off of your arms so I can get
you cleaned up."

Martha maintained her steadfast stance as Amanda began loosening the first
tight strap around her upper arms.

'I can't believe how pathetic her arms are', Amanda commented to herself.
'So thin, lifeless and dead, just like a rag doll. No resistance or muscle
movement in them at all. Even their black and blue coloring makes them look
so old, so strange, and so . . . non-human.'

Amanda's curiosity was growing with each new little discovery she made on
Martha's body. Her intellectual mind keep speculating what Martha's life
was like before she came to the hospital. Something she was eager to ask
Doctor Bridgestone about in the near future.

When she had removed the two straps above and below Martha's elbows, she
thought a moment as to whether to remove the remaining strap around her
patient's wrists. She had already experienced Martha's rather excited state
from the injection Doctor Bridgestone told her to give. She was in fact one
of the four who literally had to tackle Martha and sit on her in order for
the strong sedative to work it's magic. Her petite frame was still aching
in places from that intense roust about back then. But considering that
Martha was behaving herself very well now and that the drug should have
completely dissipated out of her system by this time, she figured any
repeat performance was not a likely event. But still . . .

Amanda twisted Martha's complacent body around until she was face to face
with her. The expression on her face was anything but the compassionate
angel of mercy her pristine white nurses uniform made her out to be.

"Now you listen to me Ms. Doe. I am willing to remove the straps holding
your bound wrists behind your back, BUT, I expect you to act like a normal
human being when I do. By that I mean no fighting with me, no running away
and no disobedience what-so-ever! Do you hear me? I will not tolerate any
negative behavior from you at all. Because if you do . . ." Amanda put her
hand in the empty pocket of her nurses uniform. "Then I have something here
that will SHOCK you into a mound of quivering Jell-O, do you understand me
Ms. Doe?"

Martha went wide eyed with fear. She had enough. Her body was a tired,
painful, throbbing mass bordering on complete disability. Her once raging
temper and uncontrollable spirit of defiance was totally gone. And the
promise of a clean body, food and a soft bed to sleep in was all she cared
about now. So she shook her head yes with pleading tears mixing with her
profusely sweating body.

"Good! Now turn around Ms. Doe and we can get started in making your life a
whole lot better."

Martha slowly turned around. Her powerful legs made that part easy. A
product of Lisa and Anna's perverted training regimen. But her upper torso
jerked around as if it was ready to fracture into a thousand pieces.
Another example of the sadistic cruelty that she had to suffer under the
deviate perverted minds of her previous two Mistresses.

When the last strap was removed from around Martha's wrists her arms fell
to her sides like limp spaghetti. For awhile they banged haphazardly into
her powerful hips as if all conscious life was stripped from them. Then
they soon simmered down and hung soberly at her sides.

"Now go to that corner, over there in front of you Ms. Doe, and we can
start cleaning you up."

Her first step in that direction immediately told her that her walk there
would have to be bowlegged. Her crotch and pussy, not to mention her
chaffed inner thighs and calves, were far too sore to allow for even the
least bit of contact. So the few feet to a large squared off shower area,
without the benefit of privacy walls, seemed like a hundred hurting miles
away. She wondered why her gag was not removed and thought of doing it
herself, that is once feeling came back to her arms and hands. But fearing
what the nurse might do to her with that device in her pocket she decided
to remain the silent complacent patient that she was.

When she stepped over the raised rim of the shower stall she could feel the
coldness of the floor tiles under her feet. Then she felt something else
too. The pin and needles effect of slumbering flesh coming back from the
dead. Again her eyes squinted in pain as blood began to freely circulate in
her arms and hands once more. She started to move her fingers, flexing them
open and close, to help this process along. But it didn't seem to do any
good. She even tried to remove the stiffness in her wrists, elbows and
shoulders, but again the ungodly pain arising from strained and damaged
muscles was something that Martha could no longer tolerate. She simply
decided to let nature take it's course and thus became a martyr to her own
persecuted body. Oh why was fate so cruel to her.

"MMPPHHHH!!!!!!" Martha screamed through her gag when the cold water hit
her on the back.

"OH! I'm sorry Ms Doe. Is the water too cold? Here, let me make it a little
warmer for you."

Amanda had left the hot water faucet purposefully turned off when she began
spraying Martha with the water. Water that came from a simple garden hose
and it's corresponding gun shaped lawn sprayer.

"It will be just a minute before the hot water comes through so why don't
you begin to slowly turn around in place while I spray you down."

Martha had thought when she was promised to be cleaned up, that the nurse
meant like a normal human being. With hot water flowing down, over and
around her aching body from an over head shower nozzle like warm rain
falling down from the sky. Maybe even a large soft sponge loaded with sudsy
soap containing skin rejuvenating oils and pleasant spring fragrances that
would gently wash her dirty smelly body clean and fresh. Followed by a long
hot rinse to wash away any remnants of her grungy existence and to sooth
her straining hurting muscles if only a little. Finally, a quick cool
sprits of water to invigorate her back to the living. This is what Martha
was hoping for, praying even. But what she got was something that one would
barly give to a farm animal let alone a fellow human being.

"That's it Ms. Doe, keep turning while I load this soap pellet into the
spray nozzle."

Martha slowly kept turning in place. Her body was shaking uncontrollably
from being fire hosed with cold water. If it wasn't for the ball gag still
strapped in her mouth her teeth would be clattering up a storm.

"Close your eyes now Ms. Doe, you don't want to get any of this detergent
soap in your eyes."

Another blast of water hit Martha right smack in the face. The force was so
hard, that if it wasn't for her strong legs, she would have been knocked
right down. 'Well at least the water was warm now', she thought as her
uncontrollable shaking quickly faded away. But with the soapy water being a
detergent base, it was washing away all of her natural body oils as well as
all the dirt and grime from her body. So her skin was going to be very dry,
rough and flaky after this. Something that the chaffed areas of her crotch,
arms and legs would not like at all.

Amanda continued to wash Martha as if she were her automobile. A mere
object like lawn furniture or window screens to be cleaned up as quickly
and as efficiently as possible. With little to no risk of getting herself
wet or dirty in the process.

"Ok Ms. Doe, let's get all those nooks and crannies areas too. Turn to your
left and raise your arm. That's right, let me get those underarms all nice
and squeaky clean. Now the other side too. Good girl! Ok, now turn around
and bend over. That's it. Spread your legs. More! I have to make sure your
anal pore is clean too. Use your hands to spread your butt cheeks. I know
it's hard for you what with your arms still hurting and all. Here, let me
make a stronger stream and I can help pound your muscles back to life.
There, isn't that better?"

Martha was too out of it to care anymore. She simply continued to obey
commands like a mindless robot, just doing what she was told to do. The
same thing she did with Lisa and Anna when she was being exercised to the
edge of fatigue, or when she was put on humiliating display and told to
lick the vaginas of ALL of Lisa's friends one after the other. She found it
better if she didn't think about it while she did it. Thinking always made
it worst, much, much worst.

"Now let me get the backs of your legs. My goodness! I just can't get over
how well developed your legs are especially in comparison to your upper
body. Maybe the doctor can help you out with this unusual disproportionate
abnormality of yours. Ok, now turn around and let me do your front. OH!
Sorry! I still had the water stream on too hard. There we go. My word, how
in the world did you ever get your breasts looking so poorly! Surely your
not that old! But they look like a pair of old woman's breasts, all flaccid
and sagging like big party balloons after most of the air leaked out. Oh
well, I know the doctor can recommend a good plastic surgeon for you too.
Ok, now spread your legs real wide. There's one more area I just have to
make sure is very clean. I know your very sensitive there, but I have to
make sure you are completely cleaned up, inside and out. So just remain
as still as possible and it will be over in jiffy."

Funny how the seconds can feel like hours sometimes. But what else could
Martha do? She just had to stand there and take it, the constant pounding
to her clean shaven chaffed pussy area. Around and around the stabbing
water flowed, up and down, back and forth. Nurse Amanda definitely took her
job seriously. Then in the midst of getting a thorough garden hose
douching, Martha had an out of body thought cross her mind. What did she
mean by cleaned on the inside as well?

"Now for a quick rinse job with hot water. Let me change the water flow to
a nice wide spray and you keep turning while I run the water all over you."

The hot water felt really nice for Martha, until it began to feel too hot,
practically scalding.

"Just a quick fanning with cool water and then your all done."

"MMMMFPPHH" yelled Martha as the sudden change from hot to cold again
viciously shocked her mind as it did her body.

"All done Ms. Doe. Now come to me and I will dry you off."

Martha was once more shaking uncontrollably from the cold water on her
body. She quickly waddled over to the nurse eager to feel the soft warmth
of the bath towel upon her icy dripping skin.

Amanda was none to gentle in drying off Martha. Nor was she all that
particular in getting her completely dry either. On several occasions a
muffled groan from under the rough beach size towel was heard as a result
of Amanda's rough rubbing in certain sensitive and swollen area's.

Martha didn't realize it yet, but Amanda was slowly moving her in a
specific direction and to a rather archaic device. It wasn't until Martha
felt something clamping around her ankles that she noticed she was in
another part of that same room.

The towel was pulled harshly from Martha and because her feet were held in
place she almost fell over forwards. Lucky a large wooden stand about waist
high just in front of her stopped her continued fall else she would have
landed face first onto the hard floor.

Her hair was still a wet mangled mess around her head. And a good part of
it was sticking to her face thus distorting her vision so she couldn't see
what the nurse was fastening her into. But it didn't take long for Martha
to realize that she was now locked into an antiquated wooden stock.
Something right out of the time of the Spanish inquisition. It kept her
bent forwards at the waist with her head and wrists held securely between
two massive boards reinforced with black pieces of metal riveted into it.
She tried to free herself, but it was no use. The fit was too good because
of some rubber like sleeve that lined the wooden cut outs. To keep the two
boards from coming apart, the nurse locked them together with a brand new
heavy duty lock.

Martha tried to move her legs and feet but found them to be held firmly in
place by another wooden stock with snug rubber lining. The nasty part of
her position was that her feet were almost directly under her head stocks,
thus forcing her to keep her legs straight and at an angle under her. It
also made her stick her butt right out in back of her as if she was
prepared for a good old fashion ass whooping. Just like they did a long
time ago as punishment for unruly citizens of the pilgrim era. But nurse
Amanda had another reason for putting Martha in this awkward position.

"There you go Ms. Doe. Now I can get started with cleaning you up on the
inside."

Martha closed her eyes in shame. Now she knew what the nurse meant by
cleaning her up on the "inside". With her feet held apart and fastened in
place by the same contrivance that kept her head and hands safely locked
away, Martha was in the perfect position to receive a thorough bowel
cleaning, better known as an enema.

The cold shower invigorated her enough to try another attempt at freeing
herself from her captured display like state. But the device, all be it
old, was still in perfect working order and fit her like a glove. No matter
how much wiggling and direct force that she applied, all that resulted was
some creaking of the wood. Her second wind didn't last long though, for she
was soon back to her normal compliant and obedient self ready for nurse
Amanda's compassionate touch.

When she heard the snap of rubber gloves being put on, Martha closed her
eyes and began moving her head from side to side. She thought that once she
was out from under the dominating thumb of Lisa and Anna, she would never
experience another humiliating event like this again. But it seemed like
fate had it in for her. For once again someone was about to inspect, probe
and no doubt play with the most private parts of her body, totally against
her will.

She remembered what Lisa and Anna called it, bung hole play. She called it
forced sodomy. The endless day after day insertion of all kinds of
paraphernalia into her rectum. From objects of different sizes, shapes and
materials, including vegetables, to the use of their own surgically gloved
fingers and HANDS. The variety seemed endless. And as a result of this
repeated degrading pass time, Martha was forced to learn how to relax her
sphincter muscles on demand or suffer the consequences. Something her body
had acclimated well to in her training, but something her mind could never
do. She could never, ever, accept what they did to her as being
pleasurable. Even when Lisa and Anna had her pussy thoroughly wet and
dripping from such revolting depravity, she denied herself any acceptance
of pleasure from it. She zealously believed that a person's anus was a very
private place and made exclusively as an exit point, and never to be used
as a port of entry for anything.

But the memories came flooding back now. Of the first time when they did
this to her. They told her to lie down on the examination table. Her wrists
were tied together over her head and to the back of the table. Her legs
were pulled up and spread wide on both sides of her head and tied there.
They literally had her folded over onto herself so her entire crotch area
was left wide open and easily accessible. She wasn't gagged back then, as
she was now, because her two tormentors wanted to hear her cry, beg and
plead for mercy as they literally fucked with her disgusting crap hole to
no end.

Then she remembered the many times when she was ordered to bend over and
grab her ankles right there in the formal living room with many of Lisa's
friends present. She always hated having to do this, because they never let
her wear any underwear. No panties, no bra, nothing! And when they did let
her wear something, it only reflected her sexy, servile status by having
cut outs for her nipples and crotch area. So when she was order to display
herself bent over, she knew to be ready for something. For a finger, or a
carrot, or a dildo, or any number of obscene objects that her Mistresses or
their friends would stick deep into her ass.

Oh she had learned all right, the hard way. She learned what to do and what
not to do when something was playing in and out with her ass hole. The more
submissive, pleading and teary eyed she acted, the less painful her ordeal
was. If she cursed at them, pretended she liked it, or simply did nothing
at all, then it became a long, drawn out, painful nightmare. So she had
learned to play up to their sadistic nature simply as an act of self-
preservation. But she could never satisfactory deal with the feeling of
self-loathing and humiliation that came with each and every time someone
was fucking her ass.

And that was why she was mumbling, groaning and squealing like a pig when
nurse Amanda put finger, after finger, after finger into her butt hole.
Most of it was for show though. A knee jerk reaction that Martha trained
herself to make. But a significant part of it still reflect how humiliating
it made her feel. A feeling she could never shake away.

Amanda could not believe what she was experiencing. Never had she felt such
a loose and supple anus before. It was as if Martha's anal pore had seen
some serious dilation in the past. It was so loose that she thought, with a
little work, she could actually put her whole hand into Martha's rectum.

Amanda began to wonder how such a thing like this could happen, as she kept
fingering Martha's bung hole. A short time later, much shorter than Amanda
thought possible, she reached for one of two special enema nozzles on her
cart. She picked one up and brought it to Martha's thoroughly greased up
hole. But just before she started to make contact, she froze for a second.
Then she raised it back up and took a long hard look at. With a sullen look
about her, she inspected it's plastic cone shaped design and it's concave
seating ring around it's base with great care. She began turning it this
way and that way as if she was concerned about it. Then she quickly placed
it back on the cart and took hold of the other one instead, a much bigger
one.

Again she held it up for scrutiny, but this time she had a big smile on her
face. She placed it down at Martha's loosely puckered hole and began the
process of fitting this never before used gigantic plug, which would be
more appropriately used on large farm animals than human beings, to the
purpose for which it was made.

Again Martha made all the instinctive sounds that she reluctantly trained
herself to make. Then, somewhere along the way, Martha felt a sudden
unexpected pain. The same kind of pain she felt when she was being first
acclimated to bung hole play. The same kind of pain that only a thoroughly
stretched butt hole could alleviate. And the same kind of pain that now
made her pretend acting outburst once more real!

It took a little time to get the special plug all the way in, and when it
was, Martha's sphincter muscles clamped tightly down around the base
keeping the nozzle firmly seated and sealed inside of her. Amanda then did
a little clean up of excess lubricant on Martha's big taught derriere
before removing her gloves. She then went to where the hose was and
prepared the cleansing liquid for the enema bag.

Martha felt as if she had an over sized beer bottle forced up her butt. It
seemed like every major orifice of hers had it's own unique hurt. Her mouth
ached something awful from her ball gag. And the only meager relief she
obtained from this persistent sharp pain in her jaws, was when she bit down
hard on the rubber ball. But that lasted for only a few seconds before her
muscles gave out and her mouth bounced back open, stretching her lips to
the point of almost tearing the skin. Then each time she did it she felt
another area of hurt in her tongue. As she compressed the ball, it in
turned squashed her tongue flat inside her mouth. It was like she was
damned if she did and damned if she didn't. She just couldn't win.

Her pussy was another hole surrounded by a red mass of hard throbbing pain.
When Amanda unceremoniously applied the water jet to it, it did have a
somewhat soothing effect. Once the initial hair raising spike of pain
simmered down a bit. But now her swollen crack oscillated away like the
seconds on a clock--pain, pain, pain, pain, . . .

That left her with only one hole left and that was the coup-de-ta. Her
butt was stretch beyond human endurance. The soft tissue that made up her
rectum was never meant to undergo such expanding abuse, not without
suffering some damage in kind. And if the physical pain in this area wasn't
enough, then the emotional trauma of having to actually go through another
humiliating act of perverted sodomizing was literally driving Martha over
the edge.

And through all this painful drama, Dr Bridgestone was having the time of
her life. It had been a long time since she felt this good, watching her
Dear Friend experiencing one long painful and humiliating event after
another. She was so into what her assistant was doing that she was
literally sitting on the edge of her seat in excitement waiting for the
next round of creative abuse.

Her wait wasn't long, for Amanda returned with an intravenous stand in tow.
It was one of those old tall black metal stands with a heavy metal base on
wheels. The wheels were squeaking making what Amanda had hanging from it
all the more sinister. She placed it on the side of Martha so she could see
it if she wanted too. Trying to add more negative anxiety to Martha's cup
which was already full to the brim.

It took a little doing, but Martha was able to stretch her neck and turn
her head just enough to see the big bag of greenish liquid hanging from one
side of the "T" shaped top. She began to cry again. How was she ever going
to take all that liquid in? Was there no end to this painful existence.

The nurse had what looked like over three liters of cleansing fluid ready
to be run through her bowels. The times when Martha received such gut
distending enemas from her former owners were held fast and clear in her
mind. The unbearable cramping and abdominal pain was far worse than any
bloated menstrual cycle she ever had. And then being forced to hold it,
many minutes and sometimes hours at a time, and then being put through hell
with all the name calling of pregnant slut, a lazy overeating cow and a
beer guzzling trailer trash blimp. It was all coming back to her. Every
horrifying second of it. All she could do was to hope that the black nurse
would not take it to that extreme.

"All right Ms. Doe, time for your bowel cleaning. Now keep your ass steady
and this will go very easy. If you make it hard for me, or make me spill
any of this smelly stuff on my clean white uniform I will make your ass as
red as your labia lips."

Martha knew better than to fight. Another lesson she learned at the
sadistic hands of Lisa and Anna. And it didn't take long either. Pain can
be a most persuading element in any difference of opinion.

Amanda worked the tube through the nozzle until she heard a dull snap
indicating that the tube was now locked in place. She then walked over to
where the bag was and adjusted the plastic flow regulator. Martha didn't
bother to watch the vile greenish liquid oozing down the tube and out of
her line of sight. But Amanda did, and so did the woman doctor, both with
growing satisfying smiles on their faces.

It felt cold, very cold, and a bit stinging. It was now just a matter of
time before she felt the rest of the expected discomfort and pain that
followed such an inner cleansing.

Amanda walked back to Martha's rear end and looked closely at the interface
where warm pliable flesh met hard cold unrelenting plastic. No leaks. Her
open smiled reflected how proud she was with herself for choosing the much
larger of the two butt plugs instead.

While she was looking in that general area she noticed how inflamed
Martha's labia lips where. Then she felt an over powering need to touch
them, without any gloves on. Her hand moved in that direction almost on
it's own accord. Amanda gasped and Martha shrieked when her soft fleshy
finger began rubbing up against Martha's red throbbing mass. This was
definitely not like Amanda to do such a thing. She was a state certified
nurse and she knew better than to touch a patient's sexual area without any
gloves on, even though it was thoroughly cleaned. Besides, she wasn't
attracted to women, was she?

She kept on touching Martha there and a slow wave of pleasure seemed to
flow over her while she did it. Martha on the other hand tried her best to
wiggle away from the thousand dagger like touch of pain. She slowly pulled
her finger away and held it up to her face examining it with a critical
eye. She placed it near her nose and took a little whiff. There was the
noticeable scent of detergent, but there was a faint lingering aroma of
something else too, arousal.

Once more she questioned her rather unorthodox sexual action with Martha.
Was she developing some latent homosexual yearnings? Could her uninhibited
interaction with Martha's suffering be the reason for some lesbian desires
to be freely brought to the surface? Or was it all just a simple side
effect for having so much fun and pleasure in being the instrument of
Martha's torment. Again she pondered both concepts as she absentmindedly
began rubbing her scented finger and thumb together as if the heat would
release more of the sexual pheromones like perfume. Then an idea crossed
her mind. A possible way for her to know for sure.

The woman doctor was also wondering why Amanda was becoming so touchy feely
with Martha. She knew Amanda was neither a lesbian nor bisexual from all
the tests she gave her when she become her assistant. But her present
actions were speaking volumes in contradiction to those results. Could
Amanda be lying to her all this time? Those tests were specifically
designed to note the credibility level of the person taking them. And
Amanda's scores indicated that she was at the top end of being truthful. So
what was going on here?

Amanda returned behind Martha with a liberal amount of salve on her bare
finger. She hesitated for a couple of seconds trying to determine if this
was really what she wanted to do. Then in one swift move she applied the
medicine to Martha's visibly redden crotch.

Martha immediately jerked her bound and mounted body from the sudden
coldness. At first the cold felt like another painful infliction. But as
Amanda continued to gently rubbed the salve around the inflamed area, it
felt like a raging fire was being quenched by a bucket of soothing cool
water.

The trained and compassionate nurse in Amanda made sure the medicine was
generously applied to all red and swollen area's of her patients crotch.
Then something happened, and it happened rather slowly. Her spatula like
finger began moving and caressing those sensitive areas that were not in
need of medical attention. Those noted interesting and arousing areas up
near her clitoral hood and deep within the folds of her labia lips. She
smiled when she added a second finger to help smear the lubricating jelly
like substance in and out of her pussy and then around and around the apex
of Martha's sexual love mound. Amanda's selfless devotion to humanity and
pledge to help the sick and injured was slowly being nudged off center and
in it's place was a growing self-indulging ego. Even though her action
could be construed as giving pleasure to Martha, their was a dark reason
for her sudden contrived giving nature.

Being an educated and very sensuous woman, Amanda knew exactly what to do
to make herself feel sexually satisfied on those dark lonely nights when
the need was there but a partner wasn't. So she easily knew how to make
Martha pleasantly aroused as well. Thus she continued with her little
deviant excursion into masturbating Martha's pussy. But the pleasure she
was giving Martha was not without it's sinister side. It was simply a means
to an end. An end that was going to leave Martha unfulfilled and frustrated
as hell.

That was the reason behind her erotic care giving madness. It was also the
reason why she was feeling so good about it too. A wonderful spiraling
excitement that was having more of the characteristics of pure sexual
arousal than simply the joy of revenge. In fact, it had a mixture of both,
lust and evil.

Amanda felt like her entire sexuality was being altered in some way. A
sense of rebirth and transformation into a slightly different, but very
passionate woman. A woman who wasn't exactly attracted to other women per
say. To their mental or physical femaleness. To how they looked, how they
acted, or how they felt under her touch. What attracted Amanda to her own
kind was what she could do to them. To dominate them, their will and their
soft smooth curving bodies. To make them whimper with delight or pain,
depending on her mood. And what's more, she began to fantasize what she
could do to them, to force them to please her in any way that she desired
at the snap of her fingers. Even the idea of another woman's tongue on her
own yearning pussy no longer made her feel uncomfortable. If it were all
under the umbrella of a domination drama, with the naked bitch on her knees
and obedient to her will, then the thought of lesbian oral sex was really
making Amanda hot. Especially if the submissive woman giving her the pussy
tongue bath was Martha.

And Martha, she was lost in an existence of pain and pleasure. Another
deja-vu event of her hellish life with Lisa and Anna. They too kept her
oscillating from pain to pleasure like a yo-yo on a string. And she knew
why they were doing it to her too. They were trying to make her association
of pain and pleasure permanent. Whenever they allowed her to experience
erotic pleasure, it always came with some kind of physical or emotional
distress at the same time. From being flogged by Anna while Lisa fingered
her pussy into a wet sexual froth, to when she had to masturbate herself
while sitting on the floor in front of a dinner party full of Lisa's
perverted women friends. It was always the same, pain and pleasure,
pleasure and pain.

A day didn't go by when at least one of those two didn't force their
perverted sadomasochistic sexuality down her throat, and it was hard for
her not to fall victim to their trap. She sometimes wondered if she hadn't
done so already and just didn't know it yet. Even now, as the black nurse
fingered her pussy beyond the scope of medical necessity, she longed to
have that orgasm she was quickly building into. Even with the increasing
discomfort from her expanding stomach. Even with the pain in her over
stretched anus and mouth. Even with the strong hurtful ache in her
shoulders, back and arms, and the total shame and humiliation of being
treated like something less than human ever since she was brought into this
pain clinic. She still wanted that orgasm in all that she was feeling.

She deperately wanted it because they were all acting on her in unison and
they were all telling her the same thing. That she was now worthy and
deserving of the orgasm she longed for. It was the way Lisa and Anna lived,
and how they tried to train her to their lifestyle too. That erotic
pleasure was nothing if physical and mental suffering did not accompany it.
Then it hit herwith a solemn thud. She had in fact been successfully
trained by Lisa and Anna after all. She had come to associate pain with
pleasure, always. No matter who or when she was experiencing it. As was the
case right now.

Lisa and Anna had succeeded in their evil hidden agenda. What she once
thought was a short period of being blackmailed into becoming their eager
servant and sometimes sex slave, had turned out to be more evil and
destructive to her psyche and way of life than she could have ever
imagined. Those two had succeeded in turning her into a pain slut against
her own will.

"No, No, NO!" Martha tried to yell through her gag. That is something she
would not accept! Never would she accept being turned into an object of
sexual pain and pleasure. A simple masochistic entity of perverted lust.
She would fight it, deny it, endure it, but never ever would she accept it.
Never would it become the basis of her sexuality. She would refuse it in
all of it's forms. Just like she mentally refused to accept becoming the
lesbian lover to Lisa and Anna, even though her body told her otherwise.

But it was all so hard for Martha. Even now, as Amanda was aggressively
spiraling her to an all encompassing awareness of ultimate pleasure, it was
so hard for her to deny it. Oh how she wanted that orgasm so badly. And in
her weakened hurting state it was just too much for her to keep denying. So
she decided to accept it.

In her mind, since she was the one who was making the choice to accept it,
it was all right for her to do so. She was not acting out of instinct or in
response to being trained like an animal when given the right stimulus. It
was her choice and her choice only. She was going to take that orgasm
because she chose to take it and not because it was now a part of her pain
slut identity. But just as she was about to fall over the edge and into the
abyss of radiating erotic bliss, it stopped.

Amanda stopped playing with Martha's pussy and Martha was stopped from
having that glorious orgasm that she chose to take. A choice that would
have reaffirmed her right, and identity, as an independent woman and a
viable human being. But as Martha ceased her spiral climb to ecstasy and
autonomy, she felt herself falling back into the flames and pains of hell.
And in the back of her mind she heard a little voice telling her to
"accept". A voice that was rising in volume and credibility with each
successive failed rebellion on her part.

Amanda stood back up and placed her finger under her nose. The odor of the
medicine was there, but so was another aromatic fragrance. It had that
unique full ripen musky scent of sex . She closed her eyes and let that
fragrance permeate her being. To think, she was the cause of this smell,
from the woman that she had maliciously toyed with like a cat with a mouse.

Amanda became enamored to the aroma. She could feel herself flashing hot,
her skin becoming clammy and her breasts and pussy aching to be touched.
She took her free hand and slowly dragged it down the front of her nurse's
uniform. And to those areas where skin touched skin, goose bumps formed.
She cupped her breast over her uniform and began to squeeze and rub them.
Her black fingers with their dragon like red nails almost disappearing into
the snow white fabric. A soft faint moan seemed to glide through the air as
her head tilted back in the total pleasure of the moment.

What brought her back to the living was the sudden jerk of her body. She
was just about to fall over backwards when some kind of automatic
biological failsafe mechanism kicked in. It forced her to regain the proper
standing position. Then Amanda's conscious mind took over and once more
directed her on to the proper path for her nursing duties.

Doctor Bridgestone was so astonished at what just happened that she
immediately went to her notebook and again began writing down her
observations and thoughts. She ended her burst of recording by putting the
names Lisa and Amanda at the top of the page and then circling them
together, over and over again. She finally stopped the mindless action and
put a question mark next to the circle and then underlined it boldly. She
closed her notebook and put it off to the side as she then went back to
watching the fascinating drama before her.

By now Amanda had the ball gag unbuckled and was trying to remove it from
Martha's mouth.

"My goodness! I am having one heck of a time trying to get this ball out of
your mouth Ms. Doe. Are you sure your not trying to keep it in because you
like it there so much Ms. Doe?"

Of course Amanda knew that Martha would do no such thing. She just thought
she would add a little teasing anxiety to Martha's current pleasure-LESS
condition. But Martha made sure there was no doubt in what her intentions
were, concerning the removal of the jaw breaking gag. So when the nurse
stopped her pulling she shook her head wildly from side to side in a most
empathic and flamboyant NO to answer the nurse's question.

Amanda again tried to remove the gag. She took both leather straps into her
hands and pulled really hard this time, but the ball did not budge. She
then tried to shake it out, jerk it out and she even tried twisting it out
to which Martha let loose with one agonizing muffled squeal.

Finally, Amanda tried one last idea. She put one of her hands on Martha's
forehead, and used the other to grabbed both of the straps. She counted to
three and then pulled with one hand while pushing with the other. Doctor
Bridgestone could not stop from laughing! Her assistant's antic reminded
her of some old slap stick comedy routine she once saw on television when
she was a child.

Again Amanda met with defeat as Martha almost lost her teeth in the
process. Amanda took a minute to catch her breath and to think about this
situation. A couple minutes went by when suddenly Amanda's facial
expression changed to that of having a great idea. She then disappeared
behind Martha's field of vision.

Martha began moving her head around as if trying to work the kinks out of
her neck. That's when she caught sight of that enema bag. The liquid was
about a little more than one third gone now. 'Is that all' she exclaimed to
herself.

Her bowels were already gurgling something fierce as they were effortlessly
loading up with cleaning fluid. Another wave of self-pity began to flow
over her spirit when suddenly she felt something being placed across her
forehead. A few seconds later her whole head was being pulled back hard up
against the vertical wooden stock.

Amanda had taken a long wide strap and used it to fix Martha's head in one
stationary spot. She threaded the leather ends through two holes that
seemed to be made for this very purpose in the stock. Once she had the
straps passed through she pulled back hard on them and buckled the strap in
place. Now Martha's head was totally unable to move.

Amanda was ready to try again. This time she was going to use her free hand
to push down on Martha's lower jaw at the same time she was trying to pull
the immovable ball out. She didn't bother to count to three this time, she
simply started pulling and pushing. Martha could only wave her hands and
fingers erratically in distress to the nurse's determination of getting the
ball out of her mouth, but it was working!

Little by little, more of the ball was showing itself on the other side of
Martha's teeth. A visual element that urged Amanda on even more, while
Martha rolled her fingers up into tighter and tighter fists. Even the good
doctor got into the furor of the moment as she continued to squirm in her
chair, getting closer and closer to it's edge.

Suddenly a large pop was heard. Amanda almost fell over backwards from the
explosion of energy that was released when the ball broke free. Doctor
Bridgestone also practically fell off of her chair at the same exact time.
And poor Martha, her entire body seemed to vibrate in a fit of pain as a
result of having her jaws liberate. The ungodly piercing pain of having
muscles used again was making her wish that the humongous gag was still
inside of her mouth.

"Wow! Now that was something! I do believe we won't be using this gag on
you again Ms. Doe. Unless of course your mouth opening is stretched wider
to receive it like your rear end was."

Those bitting words were lost on Martha. She was too much into herself,
trying to make her jaws and tongue work like a normal human being without
any pain and numbness that seemed to persist no matter what she did.
abating.

"Ok Ms. Doe, time for dinner. Open wide my dear."

"Ppp . . Pee . . P eeesss!"

"Oh my goodness! You can talk! Well, sort of. What is it that your trying
to tell me dear?"

"Ppeees, Ar-raa. Ma ame ee Ar-raa."

Martha closed her eyes tightly in frustration. She knew what she was saying
was gibberish. She only had a small degree of controlled movement in her
aching jaws and practically no control at all in her dead tongue. So
whatever she tried to say would not come out the way she wanted. Even
something as simple as "Please, my name is Martha."

"Oh, I see, well then maybe we can look into that later, but in the mean
time Ms. Doe, how about you open your mouth and let me fit this feeding
device in it so you can get some much needed nourishment inside of you."

When the black rubber thing came into Martha's vision her eyes popped open
wide with fright. Her body instinctively tried to move away, but the
massive wooden stock held her firmly in place. She tried to move her head
away too, but the leather belt across her forehead was unrelenting in it's
grip. All she could do was to say a direct No, which came out more like a
startled "OH" and closed her jaws. Again her eyes closed tight in reaction
to the hard pain that she felt radiating in her jaw muscles from such an
uncomfortable simple act as closing her mouth.

"Well, so you choose to be stubborn then Ms. Doe. Fine, two can play that
kind of game."

Martha felt the nurse's hand on her chin and then a growing downward
pressure on it. Martha tried hard to keep her mouth shut as the tears
forming in the corners of her tightly shut eyes proved, but she simply did
not have the energy or muscle integrity for such a battle. Her lower jaw
simply separated from her upper one with hardly any effort by the nurse at
all.

Then Martha felt something being placed in her mouth just behind her lower
teeth. Next, the downward force on her chin was gone. She closed her mouth
again, only to find that her front teeth came into direct contact with
something hard and rubbery. She quickly opened her eyes to see what it was,
but she could see nothing. She even tried to look down her nose to the
point of looking crossed eyed, but still she could not see what was keeping
her lower teeth from coming in contact with her upper ones. She tried to
use her tongue to feel what it might be, but with it still being numb from
having that gigantic ball compressing it down for so long all she was able
to detect was that it was some kind of round curved object that kept her
teeth from meeting.

Then she felt that downward force again, but this time it was pulling her
lower jaw down via that thing in her mouth. The force seemed much stronger
too. And in a blink of an eye, her lower jaw was forced all the down as far
as it could possibly go.

Amanda had used a rubber coated metal hook with a length of rope attached
to the end of it. Once she had Martha's jaws separated enough to manipulate
the hook end in her mouth and over her lower teeth, it was a simple act of
threading the rope through an eye bolt in the underside of the lower stocks
and then pull on it with both hands to force Martha's mouth open. She then
tied the rope off and was now free to insert the feeding device.

Martha could only watch in helpless misery as the black rubber crescent
shaped device was worked into her gaping mouth.

The device was a kind of mouth guard that prize fighters use to protect
their teeth in the boxing ring. Instead of being one hard wedge shaped
unit, this one had two hard rubber pieces. One for each jaw and connected
together by a flexible membrane. And at it's front was a black rubber tube
coming from it that ended with a squeeze bulb.

It took Amanda some time to fit the grooved side of one part of the mouth
guard around Martha's upper teeth. Not because the unit was difficult to
work with, but because Martha's lips were stretch very taught about her
teeth from having her mouth forced open as it was. Thus it was necessary
for Amanda to use another rubber coated hook, much smaller than the first,
to stretch Martha's lips even more so, so that her teeth were free enough
for her to work the grooved rubber guard into place.

Finally it was done and Martha's entire upper teeth were wrapped in the
hard rubber guard, which only left the bottom ones to do and that was the
easy part. She only had to untie the rope, twist and pull the hook out of
Martha's mouth like she was removing a hook from a big mouth bass and then
shove her lower jaw up and into the corresponding mated grove surface
waiting for it. And that's how easy it was too.

Of course Martha tried to fight it, but the muscles in her jaw were so
tired and hurting that whatever act of rebellion she could mount was
nothing more than a token effort. In less than a minute Martha had both her
top and bottom rows of teeth completely covered in black rubber. Amanda
needed only to inflate the feeding device via the squeeze bulb next.

With one hand holding Martha's lower jaw up, Amanda used her other hand to
begin the inflation process. Being a small device it didn't take her long
until she could remove her hand from Martha's lower jaw. It was a rather
simple device at heart. The hard rubber grooved halves acted as an
anchoring point for fixing the device to her teeth. The flexible membrane
connecting the two halves together would expand and keep the mouth open
from the pressure of the air being pumped inside. It was easy to tell when
the device was at it's optimum point just by looking and feeling the
pressure against the wearer's cheeks. The flexible membrane was such that
the side next to the wearer cheeks would allow for expansion out into the
cheek pouch while the side on the inside of the mouth would barely expand
at all. Thus when Amanda felt that Martha's cheek pouch had expanded out
enough all she had to do was to stop pumping. A miniature valve near the
bulb kept the air in until one wanted it out.

Again Amanda felt the wave of eroticism flow over her that bordered on
being pure sadistic lust. Each time she squeezed that black rubber bulb she
knew she was making Martha's existence all the more painful. At first it
was rather funny watching Martha's cheeks expanding outward with each
successive squeeze. But when Martha's lips began to stretch out and around
the growing unstoppable blackness inside, Amanda could not help but laugh
at the Puffer like fish impression that Martha was making.

When Amanda's eyes could no longer see any more funny changes in Martha's
bloated mouth, her laughter stopped. She then took her fingers and touched,
poked and squeezed the hard ballooned like structure that was once Martha's
soft supple cheek flesh. It was soon getting harder and harder for her to
squeeze that bulb, but the mounting feedback she felt in her hand only
compelled her to squeeze the bulb more until finally she had to stop. She
was afraid that any more pressure might result in busting the black
membrane that was now jutting out from the front of Martha's mouth. A
dangerous situation that was on the verge of splitting the corners of her
mouth already.

A good part of Martha's eyes were now hidden behind her big ballooned out
cheeks. So a lot of Martha's torment could not be seen by Amanda. But it
sure could be heard all right. From the moans and groans of agonizing pain
that seemed to be repeating themselves on a regular basis.

"There you are Ms. Doe, all set and ready to be fed. Let me just place this
bag full of liquid goodies on the stand next to your enema bag like so, and
now I can push this feeding tube right into your mouth."

Martha heard the words, but they were like water over a duck's back. Then
she saw the firm plastic tube with the blunted end cross her field of
vision. An area of vision that was cut in half now because of her own
bulging cheeks. She could remotely feel the nurse work the end of feeding
tube through a small tight opening, just above where that black rubber
inflation tube came from. She then felt the tube move inside of her mouth.
A few times it would bang up against the roof of her mouth and then the
surface of her tongue, which was only now coming out of it's numbing
slumber. Then she felt it touch the back of her throat and she almost
gagged. That's when Amanda quickly backed the tube out a bit and left it
where it was.

"Now Ms. Doe, I am going to start the liquid flowing from the bag. It will
move down the tube and into your mouth slowly. I want it to flow from the
tube drop by drop to make it easy for you to swallow. I suggest you do not
try to stop it or let it back up into your mouth Ms Doe. Even though the
liquid is full of vitamins, minerals and all the amino acids that a growing
body needs, it tastes just awful! That is why I am having it drip down the
back of your throat and past your taste buds like this. The feeding device
has sealed your mouth completely allowing nothing to leak out at all. And
if for some reason you do find a way to let it back up into your mouth, you
then risk the possibility of choking yourself to death. Another direct no-
no of hospital rules I might add. I know that it is going to be hard for
you to take the two liters of nourishment inside of you, especially with
your enema going on at the same time, but you must! I will be back in about
an hour or so to see how you are doing. If you are a good girl and you
finished your yummy drink and have taken in your entire enema then I will
let you empty your bowels and put you to bed. If not, if I see any fluid
left, even if it's less than an ounce in either your enema bag or feeding
bag, then I will leave you for another hour to finish it. Thus it would be
to your benefit to be a good patient and take it all in by the time I come
back."

Amanda then preformed a quick check on both ends of Martha's fluid intake
devices before patting her on her butt and wishing her bon appetite.

Tears began to form in the corners of Martha's eyes, but with her cheeks so
bloated as they were a small pool began to form putting her now limited
vision into a constant blurry state. 'Oh when was she going to get a
break!' she thought to herself. There was practically no place in her body
that did not hurt. Even her pussy where the nurse applied the soothing
salve, it too had that dull throb. A sad painful reminded of how the
ultimate humiliating sexual pleasure was purposely denied her at the last
second.

For the briefest of time, when she was conscious and finally in control of
herself in the hospital, she thought her life was actually going to get
better. But now, she was right back in the snake pit only with new
handlers. Her life had become a series of painful and humiliating events,
which she had absolutely no control of and it was constantly getting worse!
But there was one thing for her to hold onto, to keep her from going
completely over the edge.

It was hope. Hope in it's simplest form. The hope of a clean warm bed and
time to rest her abused aching body on the near horizon. That is what her
life had turned into now. One focused optimistic reality that was within
her reach to grasp. That little spot of hope, a promise of something better
waiting for her right around the corner. If she could only persevere with
the present, the future would bring it's reward.

Thus with each successive drop falling down the back of her throat. With
each little gurgle and twinge of pain forming in her gut. And with each
throb, burning and spiking pain emanating from muscles that she never knew
she had, there was still that ray of hope waiting for her. The hope of a
nice warm bed to rest in was enough to get her through the moment. But soon
her belly and bowels would be stretched out to their fullest capacity. And
her back would begin to hurt something fierce from the pain of her sagging
abdomen. Would the promise of a good night's sleep be enough to get her
through that? She could only hope that it would.

The good doctor behind the one way mirror closed her eyes gently. She took
a full deep breath and held it for a count of ten. Then she exhaled with
one fast whoosh. When no more air pass out she simply remained still and
not breathing. Then she inhaled and slowly opened her eyes. It was a simple
exercise in relaxation. She did this sometimes after a period of emotional
or physical excess. And what she had just witness put her at the peak of
joy and happiness. But now it was time for her to play concerned doctor
again and she needed to put herself back into that mode again.

So she gathered up her notebook and left the observation room, but not
without taking one last look at her "Dear Friend". A look that was
accompanied by a very big happy smile. And as she closed the door she
performed that relaxing exercise one more time.

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