Candy Among the Christians

This is a satirical work of fiction.  Any resemblance to any living individual
without satirical intent is purely accidental and unintentional.

This is intended as erotic fiction.  If you are not yet a legal adult in the
jurisdiction in which you reside it is not the intent of the author that you
read this story.  Go elsewhere!  Beside, few adults younger that 40 (excepting
the graduates of certain private schools) will even get the allusions that the
author intends.  This is a story that develops only gradually.  If you desire
immediate grinding of organs, waving of gigantic genitals and rending of flesh
within the next 5 kb, find another story. 

Candy Among the Christians

Download 1.
Download Title, "An Offer Not To Be Refused"

Candice Genron
9:00 AM, Wed, August 1st, 2001
Waking Up, Getting Up

Candy was roused from her sleep by the insistent noise of the phone.  She didn't
know which was worse her dreams or the reality of the last few days.  Her dreams
were pretty bad.  Very bad nightmares actually.  Men leering at her naked body. 
Arrests by the police for prostitution followed by molestation in a squad car. 
Phones and phone calls.  Her husband sprawled in his Bentley with blood all
over.  Flashbulbs going off.  Phone calls.  Yesterday's funeral with the
piercing probing news media.  She had trouble telling reality from nightmares. 
OK OK I will answer the fucking phone.  Hello. "This is 2nd Evangelical Academy. 
May we speak to Candice Genron?"  Why do you want to talk to her?  "Rev Payne
wants to talk to her about the admission of her girls, classes start next week."
OK, I am Candice Genron.  "Rev Payne will meet with you at 10AM.  Do not be late
he is a very busy man."  OK.

What the fuck was that all about.  Yea I know we were going to transfer the
girls to 2nd Evangelical.  Alex was always into the damn Evangelicals.  Gave
them lots of money.  Where the hell are the girls, are they up yet.  Now that
Genron Energy was bust and he had killed himself I bet they are going to tell us
to fuck off.  Not that there is any money to pay tuition anyway.  Or for that
matter money for anything.  Yesterday afternoon their supposedly loyal lawyer
had a great time telling her how broke she was.  Nothing, NaDa, Fucking A Zero. 
He was so nice telling her he would bill her anyway for his services just so he
could write the bills off as bad debts.  That evening their banker called and
said their line of credit was poop.  All credit and debit cards were frozen. 
They needed to be out of the house next week.  She was shit-out-of-luck
back-on-the-street-again-without-a-dime after 12 years of sweet living.  Alex
had the right idea.  Blow his fucking brains out.

Holy Shit, nine fucking thirty AM.  Got to run.  Well we'll try and keep up
appearances at least for today.  Can't tell what will come up.  One good swig of
Martell VSOP while I pee.  Run the brush through three times and pull the
natural blond, medium length hair back and secure it with a barette.  Another
swig while I put the toothpaste on the toothbrush.  Now brush the smell of the
good stuff away.  Stomach burns, ooophs there it goes into the toilet.  DRY
HEAVES SUCK.  I guess I'm not as young as I used to be.  OK rinse out the mouth,
brush the hair, put on the nice pink suit, white frilly blouse, white pantyhose,
pink shoes.  Don't you look demure Candy.  One final swig.  Into the garage, the
Jag is still there, I wonder how long.  Up Bunker Hill to I-10.  Luck is on my
side, almost no traffic.  I may make it, 9:58 AM, Loop 610 mile-and-a-half
ahead.  Exit, around and about.  Down the feeder road.  SHIT I have forgotten
just how big this God-Damned 2nd Evangelical complex is.  The few times I have
gone to church with Alex here I was always half snockered.   OK the school is on
the far side.

"Hello, could you tell me where Rev. Payne's office is?  Elevator to third
floor?  Down the Hall?  Thank you!".  OK only 5 minutes late.  Boy a long hall,
here it is.  Only 7 minutes late.  "Dr Payne is waiting to see you, go right in" 
Nice office for a school principal, nice secretary!  Pretty but demure.  A bit
of a schoolgirl about her.  Can't be more than nineteen.  I wonder if he is
balling her.  Alex chose a school for the girls well.  A lot of money in this
school.  The oil and energy business enriched quite a few simple country boys
like Alex.  All of them didn't want to leave their roots and become 'Piscies and
Methodists.  Well so much for St. John's and St. Michael's and St. Thomas.  It
wouldn't have made a difference in the end anyhow because I can no longer afford
it anyway.  What is it, back to lap dancing?


Rev. Payne
10:07 AM, August 1st, 2001
Interview

Maximilian P. Payne was tall, perhaps six foot four, thin and even in his office
kept his charcoal gray suit jacket on.  Of course considering how low the air
conditioning in the room had been set, this was not all that foolish.  He had
never met the famous Mrs. Candice Genron before although he had seen her picture
in the news, rather frequently of late.  As she walked in he was impressed.  The
electronic and print media did a poor job of capturing her.  Alex had been a
good friend and essential in the building up of 2nd Evangelical Academy that had
occurred over the last decade.  But they had never socialized.  They moved in
very different circles.  He at the top of the world, opera, symphony, charitable
balls, Rodeo, the baseball team and their new stadium.  Nothing but the best. 
His wife, widow now, had the body of the best.  Shady past but no surgical
modifications.  All natural.  Alex must have loved ploughing her furrow.  And
now this babe and her bastard bitch daughters were his responsibility.  Well
they might as well learned the discipline here that Alex had never given them. 
Alex had left them in his hands.  He would have to step into Alex's shoes.  And
other things as well.

 Max thought, What am I but a humble Christian educator who has been lucky. 
Been able to build.  Still building.  The type of education I promote is not
popular.  It is for the few.  Most will kids will unluckily go to third rate
public schools.  Even the best of the public schools in the priciest
neighborhoods are laced with drugs and sex.  Nobody who was anybody in this the
fourth largest city in America wasted their kids in a public school.  Then there
were the elite private schools, five of them.  Theoretically religious but
really hotbeds of secular liberalism.  You paid $20k+ a year for the same drugs
and sex they could get for nothing in the public schools.  They all thought we
were a bunch of hicks and rubes.  Accused of being child-abusing primitives.
Then there were the Catholics.  Strake, St. Thomas, St. Agnes, the sanctified
rolled off the tongue.  He shuddered.  Papists, louts, jocks, geeks,
goody-goodies.  On the other hand he felt like the Polish Army facing the
Wehrmacht.  Yah they were good and they knew it.  But they were beyond the pale.
No self respecting Protestant Fundamentalists would send their daughter to a
Catholic girls school.  All full of the Pope and Social Activism.  When they
came out they weren't a fit wife for anybody but a wimp.  Well Alex had hated
the Papists as much as he did and the millions Alex had funneled surreptitiously
into 2nd Evangelical had made all the difference in the world.  Now he had to
deal with the famous Mrs. Genron, all pointed tits, rounded ass and pink suit of
her.  But loyalties ran deep.  And she and her daughters were souls to save.  It
wasn't going to be easy but it could be accomplished if we were careful.  And we
had planned and prepared for this day.

"Mrs. Genron, our meeting was set for 10:00 AM.  It is now 10:07 AM.  I am
displeased.  This will not happen again."

Blab, Blab, Blab, Blab, Blab.  Damnation! Does this woman have a brain in her
head!  Her blouse is half unbuttoned and I swear I smell liquor on her breath. 
Now she is crying, her boobs are half falling out and her skirt is hiked up most
of the way to her crotch.  I wonder how much of this is an act.  Probably a mix
of talent, more brains than anyone gives here credit for, and some grief and
concern for the future.  If anybody needed discipline it was her.  I understand
her daughters are even worse.  Well they will all get the disciplining they
needed.  And for her it would start today.

"Stop Woman.  Quiet. Listen to me."  Hitting the DICL button I asked my
secretary to send in Elsbeth Strikt, Ph.D., head of the English Dept and Dean of 
Humanities in the high school division of the Girls Academy.  Since Science and
Math are not big in fundamentalist schools that meant she was really the one in
charge of academics.  Tall, thin, acerbic, Dr. Strikt's PhD was in English from
Columbia.  She would already be a full professor at an Ivy League institution if
it wasn't for her politically-incorrect Evangelical fundamentalism, her
pronounced anti-Feminist stance and her sado-masochistic streak.  Unmarried,
probably a closet lesbian.  She certainly didn't enjoy sex.  But Elsbeth fit in
at 2nd Evangelical so well, kept high academic standards, kept the parents happy
and enforced the rigorous, rigid discipline that I so insist on.  Elsbeth was
superb at dispensing chastisement, and taking it as well.  Anybody who sends
their daughter here is willing for discipline to replace drugs and sex.  The
affluent fundamentalists of this the largest city in the South did not want
sluts for daughters.  Sons they tended to send out into the world.  Here at 2nd
Evangelical we didn't even have a boys high school.  But the girls high school
program was full.  Nobody with half a brain in this town wanted a women's libber
and whore for a daughter.  Or a wife, either.

"Mrs. Genron, be silent while Dr. Strikt and I outline the situation to you." 
Now was the time to lay out as much of Alex's and my plan as was prudent for
Candy to know at this time.  "Mrs. Genron, I knew your husband rather well and
in the last few days before his untimely leaving us we discussed the situation
several times.  With the collapse of Genron Energy the only thing holding him to
this earth was his concern for you and Kim and Ashley.  When I assured him that
I would personally take responsibility for you and your girls, all that tethered
him to this earthly soil was severed.  I am very sorry for your grief."

At the works, "personally take responsibility" Candice raised her head, looked
me in the eye and I noticed her pupils constricting.  She said in a surprisingly
cold tone of voice "You will provide for the girls and I?  How much?"  I do
believe that a cold reptilian brain lurks in that luscious body.

"Since there are a great number of legal complications emanating from the fall
of Genron, there was no way that Alex could pass any money on to you.  The
government would be on it in a Yankee minute.  It is probably that they would
even seize any meager income you might produce or assets you might mobilize. 
The political climate right now is that of an Alabama lynch mob.  As you
probably know, one quarter of the pension funds in America right now are poorer
because of Alex."

This brought forth renewed vigorous sobs from the blonde and further
dishevelment of clothing.  I presume this was to enhance her remaining assets. 
I continued "However, 2nd Evangelical has survived Genron's collapse rather
handily since Alex always insisted that we liquidate any equities that were
donated to us.  Any direct transfer is of course out of the question.  However,
we did discuss an option that we both felt was viable."  She lifted up her head
again. "And I might add, given your character, or rather lack of character,
desirable.  You see, Mrs. Genron, Alex was always quite frank with me.  In fact
very frank. He told me about your career as an "exotic dancer" and your arrests. 
He took you out of the gutter back when you were barely 18 and he was very
concerned that without your guiding hand, you should fall back into the gutter. 
And he gave us access to all information.  Actually, since his company set up
our information system, we probably know more about you than you do. 
Everything, finances, history, medical records.  I know who Kim's actual father
was.  And Amy's.  I probably know more about your menstrual history than you do. 
I can even access your last mammogram at the Methodist and print out a picture
of your cervix." 

At this Mrs. Genron gave a bit of a gasp and her knees snapped together denying
me an increasingly arousing view.  She turned red and lowered her head.  I
added, "You know you are going to need a cervical cone biopsy pretty soon.  The
promiscuity of your early years has left you with a pre-cancerous lesion of the
uterine cervix."  The blond gagged.


Rev. Payne
10:30 AM, August 1st, 2001
An Offer

Dr. Strikt intervened in this increasingly gynecologic conversation.  "After
your marriage you did make some effort to improve your education, Candy.  You
got a degree, a fairly worthless one from our local Baptist university.  But you
then went on and got a master's from the best private university in the area. 
Perhaps your husband donating ten million to the English dept there had
something to do with it.  In any case you are unemployable because of your lack
of teaching experience, and above all because of your notoriety.  Even if you
changed your name you would still be instantly recognizable.  Any chairman that
hired you would soon be hearing from the board of trustees as the howls from
defrauded Genron investors mounted.  However, we may have a place for you here
at 2nd Evangelical because of the past generosity of your husband."

For the first time in days Candy saw light at the end of the tunnel.

However, Dr. Strikt had some news Mrs. Genron was not going to like.  "Candy, I
must be frank.  Your personal character is not appropriate for someone I would
want on my staff.  Similarly, the deportment of your daughters has brought
anxiety to the women who will be teaching them later this month.  We are very
strict in our standards here at 2nd Evangelical.   In fact we are the strictest
in the state of Texas and perhaps, excepting a smaller school or two in the
Southeast, the strictest in the South.  However, Rev. Payne has assured me that
you will be absolutely obedient to my commands.  You and your daughters have a
long way to go."

The look that Mrs. Genron gave Dr. Strikt reminded me of watching the
interactions between a snake and a toad.  And the toad was a horned toad.  I
figured it was time to resume control of the discussion.  "Mrs. Genron, if you
are agreeable we will take you on as a high school English teacher.  The terms
of your employment will be unusually generous for a novice high school English
teacher.  However, the conditions of your employment will also be highly
unusual.  Let me go through them."  I placed a document in her hands.

First, this covenant will remain secret.  Disclosure will result in termination
and forfeiture of all your assets.  We will support civil action to transfer the
care of your daughters to your stepfather.

Second, you and your daughters will assume your maiden name, Butz.

Third, 2nd Evangelical will provide you with housing and transportation.  The
nature of these shall be determined by your supervisor Dr. Elsbeth Strikt.  A
credit card, billed to the school, will also be provided under similar
supervision.

Fourth, you will be paid the salary of $45,000 a year by 2nd Evangelical Girls
Academy.  Your supervisor will be Dr. Elsbeth Strikt.

Fifth, you and your daughters shall be accessible at all times to Dr. Strikt and
she shall supervise your and their deportment and discipline.

"Sign here I said."  Without hesitation, without I suspect thinking through all
of the implications of what she was signing, Candy signed.  There was a grim,
set expression on Elsbeth Srikt's face.  Dr. Strikt took Candy's face in her
hands and said "Do you know what you are agreeing to, you are to be totally
under my command!"  Candy didn't like it.  Candy didn't like Dr. Elsbeth.  But
Candy knew better than Dr. Strikt what the situation was.  She suspected that I,
M.P. Payne knew exactly what her situation was.  That was probably why I had a
wry smile on my face.  This was going to be interesting.

I picked up the line to my secretary.  "Make two copies of the contract that is
coming your way.  Place the original in the files, give one to Ms. Butz and one
to Dr. Strikt.  Dr. Elsbeth will show our new employee around the school."  I
turned to the former Mrs. Genron.  "Candice, take the rings off the fourth
finger of your left hand.  Put them on my desk."  I turned next to my tall,
thin, dark haired Dean "Dr. Strikt, Candice is in your hands.  Begin her
orientation."

Candy Among the Christians

Download 2.
Download Title, "New Faculty Orientation"

Dr. Elsbeth Strikt
10:45 AM, August 1st, 2001
A Complete Tour of the Facilities

So Candy the "Toast of the Town" was entrusted into my hands.  It would be my
job to remake her.  And her daughters whose spoiled brat behavior was a legend
among the girls at our school who knew them socially.  Well 2nd Evangelical was
the place to do it and I am the person to do it.  There certainly are enough
legends about 2nd Evangelical Girls Academy.  The local rumor mill calls us
"Spankers High" and those are just the rumors that circulate among the girls
that go to the other private girls schools.  Our girls don't spread rumors
outside this school.  They know better.  And so do their moms.  The only
accurate rumors about this place are the ones that circulate within.  Most of
them are true.  But well disciplined mothers and daughters know just how far to
push and when to bow down.  Or rather bend over.  This one will soon enough
learn.

As we walk out of the office and down the hall, I start off with my standard
instructions.  "First of all, in my presence you will only speak when spoken to. 
Your answers are to be short and without excuses.  Is that clear?"  The blond
one replied "Yes Dr. Elsbeth".  To you that is "Dr. Strikt", I corrected. 
"Before we go to human resources I will give you a tour of the relevant parts of
the school.  That way I will be sure you understand the contract and are
amenable to its terms".  Candy started off "Oh no problem, Dr. Strikt, I am very
happy with the terms that Rev. Payne laid out.  You see he ...".  I stopped in
my tracks.  "Candy", I said, "you are babbling and thereby have just broken my
first rule.  And you were late to our meeting.  And I smell liquor on your
breath at this hour of the morning.  All of these things are unacceptable."  By
this time we had reached the English Dept. which was also on the third and top
floor of the school.

Candy was smart enough to remain silent as we walked around the currently vacant
classrooms and offices.  I showed her the office in the interior corridor that
she would share with another novice teacher.  After checking out the desks and
bookshelves in what would be her office she noticed a pair of tawses hanging on
the wall.  One was a 24" and one was a heavy 30".  "What is this for?" she asked
picking up the longer strap.  "What do you think it is" I replied.  She said
nothing.  "Time to go to the basement" I instructed as we headed toward the
elevator.  Without thinking she started babbling again.  "Boy, it is interesting
that you have a basement.  You know in this town most places don't have
basements because we are so low at sea level and the basements flood so easy.  I
remember during Allison..."  I stopped.  Candy stopped.  I looked her in the eye
and said "you are babbling again.  Do you realize that this behavior is totally
unacceptable.  You must discipline your tongue or it will be all over for you. 
You need to decide right now whether we proceed to the basement or just go back
to Rev. Payne's office and forget the whole thing."  Candy, humbled replied
"Yes, mam, let's go to the basement".

Immediately after exiting the elevator we made a right turn and came to a door
marked Room B.100 with a plastic plaque.  This led to a tiny anteroom which
after turning on the light revealed two doors.  The one directly ahead, the one
with a handle and a deadbolt that was marked Teachers while the one without a
lock to the right said Waiting Room.  Candy was obviously intrigued but for once
kept her silence.  I unlocked the Teachers door, and relocked it after we
entered.  There was a maze of corridors before us.  These are the teacher's
locker rooms I explained leading Candy up to one with a deadbolt that said
Humanities.  I explained that "since at the middle school and high school level
we have only female students, we have only female teachers".  I unlocked the
door, we turned on the light and entered, and I relocked the door.  I suspect
that Candy was surprised at how large the room was.  Down the middle was the
expected set of varnished wooden benches set on grey-painted pipe legs.  Along
one wall was a set of large floor to ceiling lockers, actually small closets,
with locked louvered wooden doors.  All of them had plastic plaques with names
on them, starting with "Dr. Strikt" and proceeding to the last two labeled Ms.
Belt and Mrs. Butz.  I unlocked the door of the last locker and told her "This
will be yours", pointing to the one at the end and indicated "this will be your
new office mates, Ms. Belt" and motioning toward the conventional metal lockers
on the other wall of the room indicated "and those are for the students". 
Candy, curious about this piped up without thinking "That's weird, I've never
heard of students and teachers sharing locker rooms."  My patience just about at
an end, I unlocked my locker, I took off my black suit coat and hung it in my
locker.  "Candy" I said, "This is not an athletic locker room.  This is a
disciplinary locker room.  I can see that you have lot to learn and I am about
to begin your disciplinary instruction". 


Mrs. Candice Butz
11:00 AM, August 1st, 2001
Candy Butz Begins Her Education

I couldn't believe what happened after we left Rev. Payne's office.  Elsbeth was
consistently curt and demeaning to me.  I don't know what management school she
went to.  She kept insisting on my silence and was really not interested in
conversation.  When I saw my office I was appalled.  It was an inside office
without window and I was to share it with another teacher.  I guess given my
situation I will have to lump it but I don't like it.  Then I noticed a couple
of wicked looking straps hanging on the wall.  I asked about them but Dr. E
decided to be uncommunicative.  I had heard so vague rumors floating around that
they spanked at 2nd Evangelical but I had blown them off.  I figured that this
was chatter on the part of Kim's girlfriends that went to St. Michael's
Episcopal designed to rattle Kim and Ashley's cage.  Well I guess the rumors are
true.  When I get the chance I'll have to ask Elsbeth if she expect me to hit
girls.  Does she realize that its child abuse and we could get sued.  But with
her in this hissy fit I guess that this is not the time.  As we left the English
Dept. Dr. E indicated that the Basement was the next stop.


Candice Butz
11:25 AM, Wed, August 1st, 2001
The Basement

Boy, this is weird.  Why is the basement a high priority on a tour of the
school?  Maybe that's where the cafeteria is.  Time for coffee!  I could really,
really use some now.  I have a death dealing hangover that is getting worse as
the day goes on.  Good old Elsbeth is getting even bitchier as we go to the
basement.  Maybe she needs a cup too.  I get a real creepy feeling as we get to
the basement and go into Room 101.  Eventually we get to this room with lockers
and she assigns me mine.  When she points out the student lockers I ask her if
that isn't a bit strange.  When she says that this is the disciplinary locker
room I gulp.  I ask her if this is where we spank students.  At that point she
starts into this long lecture.

"Ms Butz, get down on your knees.  Have you just signed a contract charging you
to complete obedience to me.  Do you understand the implications of your failing
to follow this contract.  Do you know what will happen to you.  Do you know what
will happen to your daughters.  Do you know what discipline is.  We are here so
that you can completely submit to me.  I will then chastise you.  This complex
is not simply for spanking girls.  It is for disciplining student, their mothers
and when necessary, teachers and staff.  Do you understand this.  Are you
willing to comply with every one of my exact instructions.  If you do not, then
we will immediately go up to Rev Payne's office, we will tear up the contract
and you can walk home and take your daughters out on the street with you. 
Because the locks are already changed on you car and here are the new keys."  At
this point she held out a set of key on a Momentum Jaguar ring.  The way things
had been going lately I was sure she was telling the truth.  "Do I have your
complete obedience" she said.  I was between the rock and the hard place.  I was
out of options.  I gulped.  "Do I have your complete OBEDIENCE" she shouted. 
"Yes" I whispered knowing I had no choice.  "LOUDER" she insisted. "Yes Dr.
Strikt" I said.  "Are you willing to submit to your chastisement" she said. 
"Yes Dr. Strikt" I replied. "LOUDER" she insisted. "Yes Dr. Strikt" I said. 
Then Elsbeth coldly looked at me and said in a reptilian voice "So be it. Hand
me your purse. Disrobe".


Dr. Elsbeth Strikt
11:15 AM, August 1st, 2001
Teaching Candy about the Facts of Life

  I began Candy's education by explaining the disciplinary facts of life at 2nd
Evangelical to her.  All females were subject to discipline from the Dean on
down to the lowliest 5th grader.  This included teachers, students, staff and
mothers.  Just yesterday, I was instructed by Rev Payne to discipline his
secretary.  Yesterday, the young woman paid a visit to Room B169 and today her
deportment was much better.  This afternoon she would complete her discipline. 
I explained to Candy that so far today her behavior was completely unacceptable
for employment at this school.  This confirmed my earlier suspicions.  I had
been opposed to helping her from the start.  I explained to her the consequences
of her actions both for herself and for her daughters.  I indicated that I felt
that only the most severe discipline had any chance of turning her around and
that I didn't think she could take it.  I did admit that Rev. Payne felt that he
knew more of her and that he said she might work out.  At that point I told her
that I was willing to go along with Rev. Payne but that I still had my doubts
that Candy could stand the sort of discipline necessary to turn around. 
Normally, it takes months, perhaps a year, to work up to the level of discipline
that Candy needed.  I asked her if she thought she could get there in a single
afternoon.  I guess she felt she could.  I purposely chose not to let her know
immediately, all that she was about to receive.

First, that ridiculous pink miniskirt outfit had to go.  Permanently. It was as
fitting for a widow as a condom on a steer.  Even for the bimbo widow of a
disgraced Texas suicide oilman.  I had her take off the short jacket and
miniskirt and deposit them in the trashcan.  As I suspected she wasn't wearing a
slip. 

So Candy stood there half naked feeling a bit ill at ease.  I had her take off
her expensive but gauche pink  Prada strap up high heels.  Her panty hose went
into the trash next, real women don't wear panty hose.  In keeping with her
former career as stripper and part-time harlot she wore a thong rather than
panties.  About the only nice thing she had on was her bra, a feminine lacy
confection.  I unlocked her closet and instructed her to put in the bra.  She
was as startled to find clothing already there as she had been to find her name
on the locker.  I explained that the clothing was for her to wear when
eventually she went to her quarters.  Yes we already had her exact measurements. 
This seemed to somewhat relieve her.  I suspect that even a former "table
dancer" was embarrassed standing there naked.  I reached into my locker and took
out a pair of my standard dark blue stockings.  I was a bit taller than she was
but she was definitely had a much more voluptuous figure than I did.  Therefore
the stocking should be an excellent fit.  And since her thighs, although not
fat, were considerably fuller than my skinny ones, the elastic tops of the
stockings up would suffice to hold them up.  I explained to her that stocking
tops were very important because they demarcated one of the boundaries of the
areas of the body suitable for discipline.  She did a double take at that
remark.   Then I told her to put her silly pink high heels back on.  From now on
they were to be her punishment shoes.  Yes, there were already a pair of
sensible, black shoes in her size in her locker.

Having disrobed the former Mrs. Genron, I picked up the phone hanging on the
wall.  I called up Rev Payne's office and talked to his secretary.  She was to
inform him of how far we had proceeded. Then she was to come down to Room B.101
and join us in Room B.169.  She could use Rev. Payne's master key.  Expect to be
down here all afternoon.  Yes, he would know what she was up to.  She would
complete her chastisement but she would mostly assist me.  I would need
progressively more and more help in the upcoming chastisements.  Then I
instructed a somewhat subdued and frightened Candy to enter the Treatment Room. 

Candy Among the Christians
  
Download #3
Download Title "The Treatment Room"

Candice Butz
11:35 AM, August 1st, 2001
They Seem to be Well Prepared and I'm Not Sure I Should be Happy About This

I had to admit that the fuckers really had the best of me.  I was stuck with no
money and precious little prospect of getting any. I had no doubt that with
their resources they had my house and car.  At a time like this, in this
vengeful town stripping my girls away from me would be child's play.  I would do
anything to keep my daughters out of the hands of my step-father.  At least
right now I didn't have to worry about them.  Our housekeeper, Mrs. Broussard,
the one reliable, loyal employee we had was taking care of them. 

Yeah, before at 17 I was able to survive out on the street.  But now I'm 30 and
everybody and his sister in this town is down on me.  At first upstairs, I
thought that I might have to half and half the Reverend to get enough money to
make it through the week.  Maybe at his age just a blow-job.  But this
discipline stuff from the tall dark haired on gives me the willies.  Anyway, I
did as I was told and I stripped and threw away the suit.  So I will have to
change into black widow's weeds and ride herd on high school brats.  But I loved
that pink suit, it showed off my charms to alarming advantage.  I didn't have to
throw away my bra though.  That was a $80 Victoria's Secret.  Put it in the
locker.  Somebody's been planning ahead.  Rev and Alex, and probably Ms Tall and
Thin.  The name on the locker and that black suit in there for me.  I didn't
know whether to be touched or revolted when she gave me a pair of her hideous
heavy blue stockings. And then my pink shoes.  The dark mistress may have a
Ph.D. from Columbia but she has no sense of style. 

Elsbeth got on the phone.  Looks like she is summoning down the boss' secretary. 
The cute looking young short red head.  Apparently again plans worked out
beforehand.  But I don't like words like "discipline" and "chastisement". 
Sounds like too many cheap porno movies I have seen.  Then Elsbeth pulls out a
white lab coat from her locker, puts it on and says, "go into the Treatment
Room" just like this is some sort of cheap movie.  This whole thing is giving me
the creeps.  I hope it is not some sort of a snuff movie.  Well, lead on, tall
dark-haired one.  Things can't bet that much worse for me.


Candice Butz
11:40 AM, August 1st, 2001
The Treatment Room

At the opposite end of the locker room from where we entered was another door. 
Another stupid plastic plaque says B.169 Treatment Room.  Elsbeth unlocks it.  I
open it and note how really thick and heavy it is.  Creepy.  Coming in behind
me, Elsbeth turns on the lights and deadbolts the door.  A real lock and key
freak  Blinding bright mixed fluorescents and incandescent spots.  Despite my
fear, I am almost starting to get off on this.  It is like a bad episode of the
Adams Family with Dr. Strikt as Morticia.  Tall and thin with dark hair, very
pale skin and black clothes.  In a spooky place. 

She adjusts the lighting and turns off the spots.  The "Treatment Room" is good
sized room, at least 20' by 20'.  The room is white, white, white.  Glossy white
ceramic tile floors and white gloss enamel walls.  I notice some white ropes up
on the ceiling with white pulleys.  Even the interior surfaces of the massive
wooden doors are painted with white gloss enamel.  There are four of these heavy
doors, one at each of the corners of the room.  The ceiling is about nine feet
high with acoustic tiles and all kinds of lighting fixtures.  Yeah and I have
noticed that the eye bolts in the ceiling are painted with white enamel.  Lots
of eye bolts and pulleys and ropes.   The only wall that is really different is
the wall to the far right with its expanse of sliding mirrored closet doors. 
Immediately to my left is what is obviously the bathing end.  By that wall are a
toilet, a sink with a large, recessed mirrored cabinet above, a double set of
recessed showers with their transparent curtains open and tied back and wonder
of wonders, a bidet.  Guess they are ready for anything.  The remaining two
opposing sides have double closet doors, painted white of course.  Whole place
looks like a New York fag decorator's dream.  If I was going to do a Treatment
Room I would do it in pastels.  Pink maybe  On the other hand, here I am,
standing in the Treatment Room, naked, in stupid blue cotton stockings and my
pink high heeled shoes. Guess I got no choice but to go along with it.  Doesn't
mean I like it.  In fact I am just about scared shitless at the prospect of it.

It looks to me like I probably have some sort of a whipping staring me in the
face.  Smack dab in the middle of the room is a perverse sort of carpenter's saw
horse.  Except it looks sturdier than any I've ever seen.  Obviously custom made
and varnished to a Mexican's dream.  Legs of four by fours.  Cross piece a four
by four covered by leather.  Unlike any saw horse I've ever seen this one is
only about thirty inches long, rather than the usual four feet.  A tall boy that
stands about thirty-six inches high.  Also this horse ain't going nowhere fast
since it is fastened onto a rectangular base made of two by sixes.  Oh yeah, and
the ends of the crosspiece come to a point.  I don't like that.  I have seen a
few blue videos in my day.  Alex wouldn't have any part of them but he was out
of town a lot.  Some of my girlfriends were of the venturesome kind, although
none so venturesome that they knew about my real past.  Sometimes when it was
just us Girls together and the kids had gone to sleep or were at somebody else's
house we had Grown Up Girls Quality Time.  Fine liquor, fine food and unusual
video entertainment.  Organs way bigger than hubby's, unusual orifices, fun with
animals and machines, and a little bit of the old BDSM.  Oh yeah, I seen the
trick where they strap you across the horse with your legs spread.  Versus the
one where you ride the end with your pubis resting on the pointy end.  This
horse certainly had enough straps with nice brass buckles to accommodate as many
positions as Elsbeth can probably think up.  Maybe a few more.  I wonder what
position Dr. Ms. Frankenstein von Strikt prefers.  I wonder who disciplines her. 
Is it the Reverend?  Oh yes, and did I mention the Gynecological Exam Table on
the other side of the room? Ulp!


Candice Butz
11:45 AM, Wed. August 1st, 2001
Reverend's Little Red-Headed Darling

My fantasies along these lines were brought to a halt by a quiet knock on the
door opposite the one we came in through.  Elsbeth walked over and knocked back
three times.  I heard the door unlock.  It opened and in came the Rev's
secretary who I had not been formally introduced to.  Elsbeth then with great
rattling of keys, locked the door. I guess all this locking and unlocking was
part of her control freak thing.  Outside of the Rev, his sec, the receptionist
at the entrance, and Ms Bride of Frankenstein I hadn't seen or heard anybody
else all day.  I guess everybody was taking off prior to starting up for
classes.  I now got a closer glimpse of the Rev's secretary.  Sitting behind her
desk I took her for a looker.  Out in the open my impression was amply
confirmed.  A body that was almost the equal of mine, but short and demure.  You
know, the eyes cast down type.  And married.  I noticed the all-important gold
band on the ring finger of the left hand.  But no engagement ring.  Oh and
modestly dressed in a long sleeved white blouse, buttoned  to the top button
with ruffles down the front and a cute little ribbon tied in a bow just under
the collar.  But inside that blouse nestled a noble rack of tits.  An ankle
length denim skirt buttoned down the front concealed her legs but I'll bet my
nonexistent exotic dancer license that she has a cute ass.  Elsbeth introduced
he as "a young lady, a recent graduate of 2nd Evangelical Girls Academy,
recently married, newly employed who was just beginning to learn the disciplines
of wife and secretary."  Oh Boy! I thought.  What an assistant.  For a moment, I
doubted that the Rev was porking her. 

Elsbeth continued, "Patty show Candy the fruits of your chastisement yesterday". 
Patty meekly turned around, lifted up her skirt and slip and bent over.  One
could immediately see the results of her previous punishment because she wasn't
wearing any panties.  She was wearing a sturdy white cotton garter belt and the
ugly dark blue cotton hose that the fundamentalists are so fond of.  From her
waist on down to the tops of her stockings she was one big red bruise with
purple splotching.  Boy did I gulp, these folks don't fool around!  Never in our
"Girls Gotta Have Fun" video nights had I ever seen bruises anything like that. 
Dr. Strikt commanded "As you were" and Patty dropped her skirts, straightened up
and turned around.  All that trauma and she was scheduled for more chastisement
this afternoon.  What did she do to deserve this, bite down when giving the Rev
a blow job! 

Well, Morticia had an assistant that had a high pain threshold.  Then the dark
bitch goddess had little Patty fasten to my wrists fleece-lined leather bands. I
can only describe as forearm protectors made from the hide of hirsute sheep. 
These had steel D rings on them.  I don't think we were going to be doing
archery.      

Dr. Strikt's Plans and Preparations

Dr. Elsbeth Strikt
11:50 AM, August 1st, 2001

As we entered the Treatment Room it was obvious that Candy had never seen
anything like it.  Beneath the brazen manner and the haughty demeanor I could
see fear.  Good.  She didn't know what to expect.  She gawked around like the
yokel she truly was until Patty arrived.  I had Patty lift her skirts and expose
the fruits of her recent chastisement. This caused further consternation on
Candy's part.  Maybe the Reverend was right.  Given the quality of our program
of discipline we can break down this slut's resistance and remake her in the
image of our suffering Man-God.  We will see.

The time had finally come to commence Candy's chastisement.  It was seldom that
I got to severely discipline a mature woman who was totally new to chastisement. 
Usually the mothers of our girls were gradually introduced to pain and
humiliation.  We started by spanking them with only their buttocks exposed and
slowly moved up through bondage to switches, the rod and finally bound naked to
Dr. Norcod's whips.  Often a year would pass as the discipline progressed from
the buttocks to the thighs, the outside and inside of the hips and then only
slowly and gradually to the breasts.  Finally, after many sessions the genitals
and nipples would be subjected to the implements of pain.  Often the girl would
be a senior before her mother lay on her back with her legs spread and feet
lashed to the stirrups waiting for the first kiss on the vulva from my whip. 
Only on the rarest occasions did I have the opportunity to employ thorns, pliers
or hot irons.  But in Candy's case, Rev. Payne earlier indicated to me that she
would not leave the Treatment Room until her nipples and vulva were bloodied.  I
warned him that it might be late tonight before we were finished because of the
necessity of frequent long pauses for the whore to recover.  He said I had until
daybreak, although he wanted her off the horse by 3 PM.  Just to think, from
first spanking to pussy whipping in a single day.  And Candy had one of the most
beautiful mature bodies that it has ever been my privilege to work on.  Fulsome
buttocks and thighs but nowhere fat.  Large breasts and yet a flat stomach. 
Holy work it is, but yes, I love it.  And later, Mrs. Broussard was bringing
Candy's two daughters.  Between the Genron's and the other Robinson's, I was
probably in for a sleepless night.

I had earlier decided that in order to take her to the limit it would be
necessary to employ bondage from the start.  The heavy horse would be optimum
for her first bondage   Earlier I had inspected some photos Rev Payne supplied. 
I speculated that that her thighs were thin enough that I could access the
perineum from the rear when she was bent across the width of the horse with her
knees spread.  Thus I could chastise her extensively without having to move her
to another bondage system.  I like the horse because a subject can absorb an
amazing amount of discipline without fainting.  You can't say this for
suspension bondage where all but the strongest and most experienced will faint
after surprisingly little punishment. I abhor fainting it totally ruins the
rhythm of chastisement.  And rhythm and pacing are so important to taking over
the mind of the female you are training. I am still unsure what implement to use
for the first cycle of vulvar discipline.  The riding crop, birch and whip all
have advantages and disadvantages.  I will make that decision after I am
finished blooding her ass with the birch.  Should be about 2:15 PM or so. 

So first on went the heavy-duty five inch wrist restrains and Candy was bent
over the crosspiece of the horse.  First with her legs together as Patty secured
her arms.  The wrist restraints were padlocked to the base of the front legs and
the elbows were buckled to the front legs with straps.  Candy was nice and tall
which meant she didn't have to stand on a stool in order to get her wrists all
the way to the bottom of the front legs of the horse.  Another reason I so much
prefer tall mature women to short girls is the way they drape over the heavy
horse.  Then, one at a time, I had Patty secure Candy's knees to the outsides of
the horse's back legs.  Candy was surprisingly co-operative, again an advantage
with a thoroughly intimidated mature woman.  Girls tend so to struggle so
irrationally when in fact they have nothing to gain.  Once we had the straps
holding Candy's ankles buckled, we had a magnificent picture.  Buttocks high in
the air, the fattest part of the buttocks level on the top.  Thighs nicely
spread.  Head well down - less likely to faint.  With her waist unsecured Candy
was likely to buck a lot.  But that is something I am looking forward to,  the
struggle.  But secured at wrist, elbow, knee and ankle Candy wasn't going to do
anything on that horse but rub herself raw.  And the use of the heavy horse
ensured that it wasn't going anywhere fast. 

And what a magnificent perineum she had.  I now could clearly see from the
corrugated condition of her fourchette that Candy had indeed delivered several
children by the vaginal route.  You never could tell until you had them spread. 
I have seen mothers of three and four daughters that had delivered them all by
Caesarian section.  They sometimes had the vulvas of 14 year olds.  Not Candy. 
But considering that she was 30 years old and had 2 daughters, her wrinkled,
protuberant labia were the only sign of wear and tear on her.  I couldn't decide
which implement to use on her vulva but with her bound to the heavy horse it
magnificently exposed.  And vulnerable. 

From the side I could clearly see her breasts dangling down.  I doubt that those
breasts ever suckled her daughters.  Well, if she indeed had been a stripper
once, as Rev Payne indicated, then it certainly behooved her to keep her assets
in good shape.  The breasts were so large and so firm that they will stand
straight out when she is stood straight up with her arms suspended above her
head.  Usually with breasts this large there is sufficient sag such that the
lowest portion is concealed from the implement.  In order to make all of the
breast available to discipline they must be secured on their back.  And then the
breast just lays there and pancakes out.  But not Candy. With her suspended from
her arms her breasts will be one of the finest targets I have ever had.  And the
"Treatment Room" was well equipped with lines and blocks and remote controlled,
motorized winches for suspensions.  But again the dilemma.  Which to use first,
fiberglass rod, riding crop, switch or whip.  I think it will be riding crop
first and then the rod.  Whip last, maybe in a separate part of the session.
This was working out much better than I had hoped. .  With the advantage of
height, I will begin by working on the buttocks with the heavy strap.  Then,
from the rear, Patty will thoroughly apply the tawse not only to the backs and
outsides of the thighs, but also to the inner portions.  The inner thighs are
one of my favorite sites for punishment.  Then, after a long rest to recover,  I
will work on Candy's vulva.

I instructed Patty that she would be playing a significant role in Candy's
chastisement.  The excellence or lack thereof, of her performance would
influence the remainder of her punishment later today.  I reminded her that if
she did well, there was always a need for someone to assist in the pre-term
discipline of the schoolgirls later this month.  I then instructed her to remove
her skirt and slip, unbutton her blouse and tie the ends together under her
bosom.  As a student she learned the routine.  She rapidly and efficiently
removed her lower garments, opened the mirrored closet sliding doors and hung up
her skirt and slip.  Then she tied up the lower portion of her blouse.  She was
a striking sight with her breasts jutting out above brightly bruised buttocks
and thighs.  Like a good girl Patty asked "should I shave her?"  "Of course" I
replied.  She went over to the cabinet above the sink and removed shaving cream,
a razor and a small basin which she filled with water.  She lathered up Candy's
entire perianal, perineal and pubic region.  Because the blonde had a
"brazilian", she needed a trim.  The area around her vulva and anus still had a
fine covering of blonde hair.  And considering my plans for that region, I
wanted it hairless.  Patty passed the razor over Candy's private parts time
after time again, dipping it into the water in between strokes.  "Is that OK,
Dr. Strikt" Patty asked.  I inspected it and suggested she go over it yet again,
thoroughly, without the cream.  Candy obviously didn't like being shaved and she
squirmed around.  Patty was persistent and scrapped every part vigorously.  She
might make a good nurse.  After having finished her Candy's prep, Patty put the
razor, cream and basin away and went back over to the sliding mirror doors. 

Patty opened the left half of the closet revealing a large pegboard at the back
of the closet.  Hung on this pegboard was part of my collection of leather
implements for punishing delinquent females.  On the floor of the closet was
also a series of tall receptacles holding switches and other long thin resilient
implements of chastisement.  Dr Payne and I have always prided myself on the
completeness of our collection.  Today we would go right to the top because this
was no tender middle school girl we were disciplining.  "Candy, do you wish to
have a gag to bite down on.  We don't want you biting your tongue" I suggested. 
She shook her head no.   "Which implement will we start with Dr Strikt" Patty
queried.  "The thirty inch long, two and a half inch wide, thick strap" I
replied.  Patty was obviously enjoying herself.  This would be her first time on
the giving end.  She was readily appreciating that it is better to give than to
receive.  Patty bubbled "Boy is she going to get it".  I glowered at Patty.  She
cast down her eyes and blushed as only a redhead can blush.  Patty realized that
she was getting out of her place and was, herself, going to be on the receiving
end once again later this afternoon.  I can't let the help get puffed up.  "Show
her the implement of her chastisement" I commanded.  Patty went around to in
front of the bound and severely bent over Candy and showed her the heavy thick
leather strap.  "Now Candy, kiss the implement of your correction" I instructed. 
Patty indicated the blond whore's compliance.  I went over to the control panel,
adjusted the lights and started the recording equipment.  Then Patty brought the
strap over to me.

Candy Among the Christians

Download 3.
Download Title, "Candy Gets Her Butt Spanked"

This is a satirical work of fiction.  Any resemblance to any living individual
without satirical intent is purely accidental and unintentional.

This is intended as erotic fiction.  If you are not yet a legal adult in the
jurisdiction in which you reside it is not the intent of the author that you
read this story.  Go elsewhere!  Beside, few adults younger that 40 (excepting
the graduates of certain private schools) will even get the allusions that the
author intends.   


Dr. Elsbeth Strikt
12 Noon, Wed. August 1st, 2001
First Spanking

"Candy", I began.  "Let me tell you about the Orders of Discipline.  You will be
told the number or strokes, the part of your body that they will be applied to,
and the force with which they will be applied.  Also I will tell you whether the
initial contact point will be the tip of the implement or the midpoint in which
case the tip usually curls around and strikes you on the side.  I will also tell
you whether you are required to count the strokes and either thank the
disciplinarian or ask for another stroke".  Candy nodded her head.  I then gave
the Order.  "Your first chastisement is with a score of full force stokes to
your buttocks.  I will administer the blows with the middle of the strap aiming
for a full curl.  Since this is your first discipline you will not be required
to count, thank or ask."  With that I struck the first blow.  Since I am right
hand dominant it landed right on the middle of her ass cheek and curled around
slapping her right hip.

Candy had obviously not been disciplined since her childhood because she noisily
erupted.  She howled "OH GOD NO" at the top of her lungs and struggled against
her bonds with all four limbs.  Her head was bobbing up and down while her ass
was thrashing about.  "OH NO OH NO OH NO LET ME UP LET ME UP."  It was a good
thing I had housekeeping set out the heavy horse this morning because Candy
would have bucked a lighter bondage horse all over the Treatment Room.  "Well I"
said.  "That's not very good self control.  I would have expected a big girl
like you to have taken that with much better self control.  I'm glad I had you
securely bound.  And that's just the first of twenty and those twenty are just
the first chastisement.  I can tell that its going to be a long disciplinary
period".  I have to admit that I smiled for the first time that morning.  By my
watch I timed sixty seconds and then I gave her a second strike, just above the
first and overlapping by maybe a half inch.  Candy screamed "LET ME LOOSE! LET
ME OUT OF HERE!  I WANT TO GOI HOME!  Timing is everything in chastisement.  I
alternately watched the second hand of my watch sweep around and her buttocks
redden.  In the beginning you cannot let the discipline unfold too fast.  Take
your time.  I let loose a third, just below the first, overlapping by a half
inch just like the second overlapped on the top.  NOOOOUUGH  NOOOOUUUGH 
NOOOOUUGG she screamed.  Take your time, slow down.  Time for the fourth, right
up at the top of the buttock, overlapping the third.  Swoosh!  I love mature
women, so much ass to work with.  I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL CALL THE COPS!  YOU'LL GO
TO JAIL!  YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!  Candy's butt was now starting to redden. 
Patience, take your time. Now the fifth, at the bottom of the buttocks, just
above where the thighs join.  Swish!  AAAAAAIIIIIGH!  NO! NO! NO!  Candy was
sobbing now.  No longer discrete shouts but a continuous wailing. 

Time for a short break, time to switch sides.  I watch the erythema develop in
her buttocks.  Let's let her recover a bit.  I walked around her head to get to
her right side.  Along the way I stopped to whisper in her ear, "how's it going
my big socialite girl.  Having fun.  That was five.  You have fifteen to go. 
And the afternoon is still young."  Candy's screams further subsided to a low,
steady sobbing.  This was good.  She was new to being bound and struck.  But she
quickly recovered.  Probably in her youth she was subjected to significant
beatings.  Maybe some of them were not even in anger.  But she had a magnificent
set of buttocks and they responded marvelously to punishment. 

When I got to her right side I just barely stroked her buttocks with the tips of
my fingers.  This caused her to start bucking again.  "Not very good control
mommy" I crooned.  "Maybe another set will settle you down".  She was beginning
to show some nice markings, light red totally across the globes of her butt with
a little darker red where the strokes overlapped.  "Time to give baby some more
loving" I crooned as I turned sideways, raised the strap above my head and
delivered my backhand down across the center of her buttocks.  This time the end
of the strap curled across to deliver a nice slap to her right hip.  I was on
today, I was happy.  NO! NO! NO! Candy was starting to scream again.  Ok I say
to myself, lets speed up the pace.  The second was delivered backhand just below
the first, the third just above the first, the fourth just below the second and
the fifth at the top of the buttocks.  Candy's screams merged into one
continuous shriek.  Once again her struggles against her bonds reached a high
point  "Well Mrs. the former Genron is that anyway to comport yourself.  I can
just imagine the expression of your friends at the opera to see you moving like
that.  Of course your screaming will drown out the dying soprano and ruin the
performance."  By now her ass was really beginning to redden up.  Every part of
it, except for the part hidden in the crack had gotten two good licks.  As I
talked to Candy she stopped screaming and just plain cried.  I think she was
beginning to get the hang of it.  I wanted to take a long pause between the
first ten and the second ten.  "Remember, ten down, ten to go" I laughingly
reassured her.

I moved to the Candy's left side.  Counted to sixty and then delivered five fast
ones, all curling over onto her right hip.  Once again her sobs quickly changed
to howls and then up to a continuous scream.  I was amazed that she hadn't
gotten hoarse yet.  "My what pretty music.  I really think we should put you up
on stage.  Of course I have never seen anyone sing from that position.  On the
other hand they are always trying out new things to attract people to the opera. 
This may be very avant garde."  I crooned to her as her shrieks subsided to
sobs.  I am glad to see that she is not one of these easy bruisers.  They
instantly turn black and blue when you just lightly stroke them.  Or else the
hystericals who shake the horse to pieces before you ever land the first stroke. 
Good, enough of a break to let her cheeks ripen after strikes eleven through
fifteen. 

Well I walk back over to her right side and deliver the last five of the full
score.  Once again the howling started and this time it takes her longer than
usual to get from howling to mere sobbing.  On the globes of her buttocks we
aren't talking red anymore.  More red-purple.  And the lines of overlap where
definitely showing little blood blisters the size of tiny pin heads.  "Well,
Candy" I observed "We certainly gave you a score to sing to.  It almost looks
like on your butt we have inscribed the lines of a scale of music with little
spots that could be musical notes".  I don't think she appreciated my musical
humor but then I used to look down at her at the opera.  Me up in the cheapest
seats in the balcony and her in her box in an extravagant gown.  Now she was
bent over and exposed and doing the singing and I was conducting.


Dr. Elsbeth Strikt
12:15 PM, August 1st, 2001
Patty's Turn at Bat

 I turned to my assistant Patty who had passed the last 15 minutes in idle
amusement.  She was happy that for once, her butt was not the butt, of my
amusement.  "Patty" I enquired.  "Do you think that I did as good a job on
Candy's buttocks today as I did on yours yesterday".  She turned her ass toward
the mirrored door of the implement closet, turned her head around and
contemplated the bruises on her behind.  Then she turned her head back toward
the horse and contemplated Candy's bottom.  "Dr Strikt" she concluded. "You do a
mighty thorough job of bruising behinds".  I was proud of her.  "Well" I said
"you are now going to get your first chance at slapping some flesh.  You see
before you, the thighs of that which was recently the most socially prominent
woman in our fair bayou city.  She has come to us begging for a job as a
teacher.  Do you think you can teach her a thing or two."  Patty pulled herself
up erect, to her full 62 inches of height and said "I'll try".  I inquired,
holding out the heavy strap "do you think that this is the right implement for
the task?"  Patty looked at the leather strap and looked at the spread thighs
that Candy presented before her.  "Actually" Patty said "those round thighs need
an implement that will curl more readily than the heavy strap.  We are going to
need to properly punish the skin of her inner thighs."  Patty went directly over
to the implement closet, hung up the heavy strap and selected a 30' two tailed
tawse.  I finally had to admit that she had indeed learned something about
discipline from me in her years as a student here at 2nd Evangelical Girls
Academy.  Actually, a little bit of a shiver ran down my spine because she had
selected an implement ideally suited to flaying the inner thighs, some of the
most sensitive flesh on a woman.  I hope that she is never selected someday to
chastise me.

She came over to where I was standing next to Candy and assumed a wide spread
stance.  Then she sharply and forcefully brought the tawse down onto the front
of her own right thigh.  I watched as the tips curled and hit Patty's inner
thigh with a resounding SLAP!  She didn't even flinch.  We trained her well. 
"Young lady" I said admiringly "you have well made your point".  Patty then went
over to Candy's right side and took up her stance.  "Mistress, I presume the
thighs are to be chastised next and that full force is to be employed with full
curl.  How many blows should I apply?"  "Two dozen" I said smiling.  Patty
intoned toward Candy "Your second chastisement is with two dozen of full force
stokes to your buttocks.  I will administer the blows with the middle of the two
tailed tawse aiming for a full curl.  Since this is your first discipline you
will not be required to count, thank or ask."  I really was proud of her.

Candy started yelling before Patty even wound up for the first strike.  YOU 
CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!  YOU DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO DO THIS! I WILL KILL YOU! 
"Candice," I addressed her standing by her head.  You signed the contract.  We
are now the ones in control.  Anything I wish, can and will be done to you.  I
nodded to Patty and she commenced.  Standing on Candy's left side she delivered
six strikes on the back and inside of Candy's left thigh with the twse.  The
timing could have been a bit slower and more regular but then Patty is neophyte
when it comes to administering a beating.  Then, reaching over to her right a
little more, Patty delivered another six to the back and outside of Candy's
right thigh.  Very good.  If I thought that Candy's cries under my chastisement
were operatic, her high C's under Patty's tutelage were enough to surely
convince me that Candy had real diva potential.  After the first twelve tawse
strokes that Patty administered were over, and Candy's screaming dropped to the
point where I could be heard, I said "I don't understand how you can do that and
not get hoarse".  Patty had done a marvelous job with her first twelve.  Every
square inch of the back and inside of Candy's thighs were covered with red
welts.  Then after an indecent interval, Patty looked to me and I nodded assent. 
In a proper chastisement, the victim must be given time to recover and
contemplate her further punishement.  Patty moved over to Candy's right side and
after a pause for at least a minute went at it again.  Patty had herself been
subjected to sufficient bondage and discipline to know the terror of having to
wait for the punishment to begin again, bound helpless with the leather
implement hovering overhead.  Once again the infernal, continuous wailing began
as Patty assaulted first the back and inner aspect of Candy's right thigh and
then the back and outside of Candy's left thigh.  I swear that never had I heard
so much noise from an adult woman in the Treatment Room.


Dr. Elsbeth Strikt
12:25 PM, August 1st, 2001
Candy Loses It for the First Time

During the last part of this second punishment session the blows came so rapidly
as to almost never stop.  Candy began to buck more and more violently until her
body went completely tense.  Her face became totally red, her breath was coming
in gasps in between screams and I don't think she was registering anything going
on around her.  At that point she went totally out of it.  Candy howled like an
animal and lost control of her bladder.  With her legs widely bound, spread the
way they were, even her totally spas med body could not close its legs. 
Therefore Candy's upper labia were spread fairly widely open.  They were spread
enough so that the urine spurted out in a clean stream rather than being trapped
and deflected.  I suspect that at the time Candy was not even aware of her loss
of urinary continence.  When Patty finished her two dozen though, I called
everyone's attention to the puddle spreading over the floor.  I ridiculed Candy
with "Baby have accident.  Little girl must have laughed so hard she peed in her
pants.  Candy peed on the floor, Candy peed on the floor, Candy piddled like a
bitch puppy."  Candy began to recover, stopped screaming and just laid over the
horse panting.  She must have noticed the last of the pee running down her leg
and the smell rising up from the floor.  She blushed and started to softly cry. 
"Well" I said.  "That gets the academy award for the finest first performance by
a female, ever, in the Treatment Room.  You also have the most solidly marked
set of buttocks and thighs it has ever been my pleasure to witness.  Every
square inch is flaming red but without bleeding."  I talked to Candy while Patty
wordlessly got a mop from the side closet and cleaned up the pee.  We certainly
train them well.

When Patty was done with the tile floor, I stretched and commented "That
certainly has been a hard morning's work  Patty, I want you to go up to the
English Department's office and in the fridge you will find a bag of sandwiches
and sodas.  Bring them back down here."  I tossed her the keys from the pocket
of my lab coat. As she went over to the closet to roll back the mirrored door
and retrieve her skirt, I said "Stop".  Did I tell you to get dressed."  She
looked at me in disbelieve and then looked down.  From the bust line down she
was clad only in a white garter belt, dark stockings and shoes.  He backside was
covered in blue bruises and there was a livid, two tailed welt on the front of
her right thigh that curled inwards.  She blushed and was about to say something
and then thought better of it.  "Quick" I said.  She covered her pudendum with
her left had, unlocked the door with her right hand and scampered off.  I
chuckled to myself and turned off the recording equipment. I went over to the
closet at the side of the room, opened it, and pulled out a folding metal chair. 
I opened up the chair near Candy's head and sat down.  Candy and I talked.                 


Candice Butz
12:45 PM, August 1st, 2001
"What Am I Going to Do"

It took me a while to clear my head after what I had been through.  Those two
bitches!  I didn't sign up for getting beaten up.  If I ever get out of this
alive, I will come back and kill them.  And not quickly.  I will make them
suffer.  As a kid I had it rough on a few occasions.  I couldn't live just on
what I made in the stripper bars.  They paid next to nothing and you had to get
by on your tips.  I had a good bod and did as well at "table dancing" as
anybody.  But it just wasn't enough.  So I hooked on the side.  Everybody did. 
That's how I met Alex.  And anybody who whore's get beat.  I'll kill these two
fucking bitches, I swear. I kill these two fucking bitches for what they are
doing to me.

Every-once-in-a-while I would get beat up by a john.  They almost never hit you
on the face, or anywhere else that was readily visible.  That would draw the law
too readily.  Usually they hit or bit your breasts and slapped up your butt. 
You learned to live with it.  The cops were worse.  The Texas prostitution law
was such a joke they would never prosecute.  Sometimes they just brought you in,
fingerprinted you, took your mug shot and let you go.  Just to scare you. 
Others were worse.  They knew you were vulnerable.  They demanded free tricks in
the back of a squad car.  Both of them.  Sometimes it was party time.  The cops
would round up two to four hookers and take us to a motel room.  The paki motel
operators never charged them for the room.  It was insurance.  You would have to
put out for half a dozen cops.  Nasty.   After the time I got sodomized three
times in one night, I was at my wits end.  Never again.  Then Alex came along.

I hope that Mrs. Broussard is taking good care of Ashley and Kim.  I can go
through almost anything if they are OK.

These bitches are the pits.  So cold, so methodical.  They almost make the johns
and the cops seem healthy and natural.  Once I was strapped over the horse, I
realized that it was all over.  I was under that foul, tall, dark-haired, skinny
bitch doctor's power and there was nothing I could do about.  I swore that if I
ever got free I would kill her.  She got the first shot at beating me.  At first
real slow.  Unbelievably slow with that damned heavy strap.  Oh that hurt like
nothing I ever felt before.  It took my breath away.  Back in my teenage years,
out on the street, a cop beat me with his service belt.  Said it would teach me
a lesson.  This was nothing like that.  Elsbeth wasn't angry.  She was cold, she
was enjoying it.  Every so often the dark haired bitch would stop.  Then she
would stroke me.  My hair, my face.  Finger nails over my ass.  Fondling my
pussy.  She has to be a lesbian.  She kept saying what a nice pussy I had and
then she would pinch it or finger me.  My skin was crawling.  And then her
short, slimy, red-haired mignon Patty.  She would deal out six to my thighs. 
Then wait, and then wait, and then wait.  Forever I had to lie there, helpless,
stretched out over that damn horse. My ass and thighs burning, burning.  Waiting
for the bitch pup to start again.  All that time my pussy was waving out in the
breeze.  And my ass on fire.  It looks like the bitch goddess had forbidden the
pup to touch my crotch.  No application of their goddamn  implement of
chastisement to my pussy.  And I know that little Patsie was lusting after my
pussy.  I know how she fondled it while shaving me.  Shaved it and shaved it. 
Shaved it until it was raw.  But dark mistress momma bitch wouldn't let baby
bitch spank little Candy's pussy.  I'm sure she is saving it for herself. 

They say I'm not bleeding.  Yet.  My butt and legs feel like they are beaten
bloody.  Now they just burn and burn.  A little while ago Elsbeth applied
rubbing alcohol to the areas they had beaten.  Oh Gawd did that burn.  My skin
was all raw.  Then she started on my  pussy with it.  It really ate in where my
skin had been scrapped raw by Patsie's incessant shaving.  Oh, I will kill the
pair of them.  I don't understand why I didn't pass out.  You hear stories about
people being tortured and then mercifully passing out.  I think I came close
once, toward the end of Patsie's punishment session.  That little bitch was
rapid fire hitting my thighs with the split-tailed strap.  Just like the one
hanging up in my future office.  I'll be damned if I go along with their little
games.  I starve out on the street first.  But I don't know what they are going
to do next.  If they kill me. what will my little girls do?  Is that what they
are trying to do, torture me to death?  Will anyone find out or will they get
away with it.  Will the cops assume I am a suicide, like Alex.

Candy Among the Christians

Download 4.
Download Title, "Another Spanking for Candy"


Patty Pine
1:00 PM, August 1st, 2001
Patty Worries About Her Turn

I knew that sooner or later my turn would come.  Earlier in the week my husband
and Rev Payne had met.  That much I figured out.  They had come to an agreement
and made plans for me.  I had been working at the school for about 3 months
after our wedding. I knew something was coming.

One thing I learned at the school.  Submit.  Go with the flow.  Don't fight it. 
If you do they will slowly, slowly break you.  They know how.  They enjoy it. 
So go along with them.  Smile.  Bear up under it.  It will pass. 

I had hoped that after I graduated and got married I would never have to suffer
punishment again.  Boy! was I wrong!  When I was a kid it was chastisement at
home, chastisement at school and chastisement at church.  And boy, the
chastisements at school and church were worse than the ones at home.  Except
that the punishments at home were every week.  Sometimes more often.  The ones
at church were no oftener than once a month.  And sometimes if you got
disciplined in school you might miss a church punishment.  Now, at least I don't
get disciplined at school.  I get it at home except now it is my husband rather
than my father.  And still there is the occasional punishment at church. 

I was hoping that if I worked hard enough and well enough at work they wouldn't
be punishment at work.  This week showed how wrong I was about that.  Dr. Strikt
is really fierce.  At school she always scared us all.  We called her the Dark
Lady.  Behind her back, way behind her back.  We would rather take two or three
punishments with any teacher rather than one with her.  She has a way of making
you stand there with nothing on but your bra and stockings.  Bent over, holding
your ankles with your feet exactly 30 inches apart.   With your private parts
floating out there, naked in the breeze.  And waiting.  And waiting.  And then
the first strike comes and your ass explodes in pain.  The Dark Lady loves that
heavy strap.  The first blow always hits dead center on both cheeks.  The force
of it sends electric shocks right into your private parts.  And after that first
one she makes you wait, and wait for the second one.  The ass whupping she gave
me yesterday was the worst strap beating I have ever had.  And I really don't
know what it was for.  All I know is that Rev and my husband agreed I needed it. 
And Dr. Strikt administered it.  And I took it.  Unrestrained.  And Dark Lady
loved giving it. 

And today I am due for the switch or the rod.  And I'll bet that tomorrow I get
the whip.  When Dr. Strikt did me with the strap yesterday, she was real careful
to spare my pussy.  I bet that this means that my pussy will be coming in for
some real attention today or tomorrow.  I keep my body hair trimmed real well. 
I learned that in school.  If your underarm started showing hair your breasts
got extra attention.  If you bottom had visible hair it was going to be bad for
your privates.  I'll bet you that today Dr. Strikt is going to really sock it to
my pussy. 

I wonder what it will be this afternoon, breasts, pussy or both.  And will it be
rod or switch today and whip tomorrow.  Or will I escape the whip?  I have not
been actually whipped that very often.  Maybe once a year since I was 16 and
most of those were light.  Twelve with the whip, light.  But I really hate the
whip.  More than any other implement.  And Dr. Strikt, she loves the whip.  The
Dark Lady gave it to me only once.  About a month before I married.  She gave me
what is called the full whip job.  She describes it as follows.   Imagine that
low voice of hers. "Your final chastisement of your single life is the full
Biblical measure, two score less one stokes.  These will be delivered with full
force while you are in bondage in the most humiliating and painful positions
with your most tender parts exposed. I will administer the blows with the Norcod
5/30/3 whip.  After each stroke you will say thank you Dr. Strikt and you will
then ask for the next stroke giving its number."  That punishment took four
hours.  That's about ten strikes an hour or about six minutes between strikes. 
I don't know how she can be that patient but I'll tell you its hell to be on the
other end of her.

Maybe I'll get pregnant quick.  They don't discipline you when you carrying.  I
try like hell every time my fertile period comes around.  The middle of next
week should be my next.  Dear God lets hope I don't have another period for 9
months.

Well here it is.  Afternoon.  I wonder what is store for me.  God I am scared of
the Dark Lady.


Dr. Elsbeth Strikt
1:15 PM, August 1st, 2001
Chastisements - A Lunch Seminar

After the success of the morning I was in an unusually chatty mood.  "Well Candy
and Patty, time for lunch break.  I'm sorry Candy but I am not going to free you
from your bondage yet.  Therefore the best luncheon we will provide for you is a
soda through a straw.  No, I wouldn't worry too much about your piddling.  Girls
always piddle when given their first really solid chastisement.  That's why the
ceramic tile floor with drains.  After the humiliation of losing control of your
bladder, the next time you will usually use the toilet when told.  However, the
first time you are usually too scared to pee in public.  Am I right Patty? 
Patty nodded, probably remembering her first serious chastisement.  I don't
think I gave it to her.  I usually remember first severe disciplinings.  The
girls are so vocal and struggle so.  Soon enough, though, they adapt.  Mature
women usually take their disciplinings better.  But then they are usually slowly
introduced to it.  You, Candy are the notable and welcome exception.  Patty,
give her some more soda.

Candy, thank you for running for the sandwiches.  Yes I realize that you were
embarrassed to run naked from the waist down through the halls.  But that's the
idea.  Be thankful that it is in the middle of the summer when noone is here. 
Did you see anyone along the way.  Only Rev. Payne.  Well, what did he have to
say.  Ah, he thought your marks were quite nice.  Did he ask about the one on
the front of your thigh.  Was he impressed.  You know you may have a novel and
useful idea there.  Did he ask how things were going down here.  When did he
think he will stop by.  I am sure we will have everything cleared up by three
O'clock."

I further chatted as we ate "You know Patty, I was very honored to give you your
wedding whipping.  You know we are pledged never to give more than thirty-nine
strokes of the whip in a single day.   Both your father and your future husband
asked me.  You did very well.  Four hours and you never even screamed, even
once.  Full two score less one with a five tailed, three knot, 30" Norcord whip. 
I am so proud of you.  Nobody else.  You know that your had to be put to bed for
a week after that chastisement.  Really spectacular.  That's why its done a
month before your wedding.  Yes, just after your period.  Your husband told me
that your labia were still bruised on your wedding night.  It made me so proud. 
You know I think you are one of the finest products of our school so far.  Rev.
Payne thinks so too.  And you have done exceptionally well today.  You have an
excellent hand with the tawse on the inner thighs.  I see great things for you."

Then I got more serious. "Well, we are now about to begin our afternoon
disciplinary sessions.  Candy, you are going to be introduced to all kinds of
things that you have never ever dreamed of.  Patty here, will be your guide
because she has been though it all.  This afternoon she will be your model and
we will demonstrate everything that will be done to you on her first.  That way
you will see what is coming and know what to anticipate.  Anticipation is very
important in chastisement.  That and exposure.  Dr. Norcod established these
principles many years ago.  Patty, please give Candy the last of her soda.  Dr.
Norcord also established the basics of the implements we use.  They maximize
pain while minimizing tissue damage.  I said minimize not eliminate because in
the severest punishments, like Patty's wedding whipping, there is always some
tissue damage.  It is only those most delicate parts like the nipples, clitoris
and labia where the bruises can last as long as a month.  Most are gone in a
week, two weeks at most."  I recalled some of my favorite chastisements and the
females I laid them upon.


Dr. Elsbeth Strikt
1:30 PM, August 1st, 2001
Rods and Switches, Oh My

I then reviewed with Candy and Patty the classes of implements we would be
applying to their, and other bodies.  Candy was apprehensive but Patty knew what
was coming.  I had Patty take out from the closet a folding "card table" and set
it up in front of the heavy horse upon which Candy was strapped.  Upon this
table was progressively laid out, the implements of chastisement that we would
be using in the upcoming sessions.  First came the switches, then the rods and
crops, and lastly the whips.  As the Norcod whips were laid out I could see
Patty shudder, probably remembering her Wedding Whipping.  We believe that
spanking is only the most primitive and crudely preliminary discipline. 
Spanking merely prepares the flesh for the more sophisticated punishments to
follow.  Once the buttocks, thighs, breasts and perineum have been prepare by
the strap or belt then the real chastisements can begin that draw blood and
leave scars.

I began my exposition to Candy and Patty.  "Here is your usual collection of
switches.  The traditional switch is made out of hickory.  Occasionally you hear
of references to peach switches.  The Slavs, of course, swear by Birch switches
and the Brits, Rattan.  But we are American.  None of these grows well in this
part of Texas.  However, this does not mean that we lack for implements made
from trees.  We have the so called "water shoot" of Live Oaks.   These trees
grow in abundance in the park just across the freeway from us.  In my opinion
these make the finest heavy switches anywhere.  Then we also have the Hackberry
tree which grows wild along every country road.  It makes excellent thin
switches if you take the effort to find straight ones.  I particularly like
these tied into bundles of three to five.  Lastly, Crepe Mytle makes highly
durable switches and the park is also full of them.  Therefore, we should never
be short of switches.  I believe that the girls should be frequently taken on
nature trips to the park and while they are there they should harvest switches."

I definitely had the attention of the two women.  "There are three principle
employments of the switch.  First is application of switches to the buttocks and
thighs of a girl or woman who has already had these areas thoroughly spanked. 
The object of this chastisement is to draw blood forth from the already properly
beaten tissue.  Switching to draw blood is done in two ways.  One is with the
long switch(s) which draws blood from long cuts."  At this point I grasped a
long live oak switch and swished it menacingly.  "One to three switches, 30 to
26" in length are used to strike the buttocks and thighs.  The female is usually
bound to a horse or secured in the pillory.  One to three dozen strokes are
applied.  Every family should have its own switch for this purpose so that there
is no blood-borne cross contamination."  Candy shuddered at this one although
Patty hardly reacted.  Patty had been through that one before.  I continued
"Alternatively in a second method, four to six shorter, approximately 24" twigs
can be bounded together into a 'birch'.  These can be utilized for similar
purpose upon skin properly prepared by spanking.  The 'birch' is very nice for
stripping off the outer layer of skin and causing the entire surface to exude
blood."  I picked up a Hackberry birch and swung it.  Candy definitely did not
like that idea.

"Single to triple switches can also be applied to either native or prepared
breasts" I observed.  "I will demonstrate this technique later." I stated. 
Candy looked relieved.  "Finally", I commented, "either single switches,
multiple switches or birches can be applied to the female genitals.  We will see
multiple examples of this later."  None of my ladies looked happy at this
announcement.  

Then I grasped the implement that Patty brought next from the mirrored door
closet, pronouncing "but the most stringent of all linear implements is the
rod."  At this, I brandished the distal portion of a fiberglass fishing rod. 
The terminal ferrule had been removed as well as the intermediate steel guides. 
However the wrappings of black line were left intact.  Where the joining bracket
had been was now a handle.  I explained "The rod is a 24" to 36" long
instrument.  The last eighteen to twenty-four inches are exquisitely thin,
tapering from 4 to 2 mm.  Although the rod does not whip around and sting the
flank, it can inflict terrible damage upon the skin it directly strikes.  This
is particularly true if the skin is swollen and edematous as a consequence of
having been prepared by a thorough spanking.  Applying the rod to skin that
previously had been subjected to vigorous application of the thick strap shreds
the already traumatized skin.  Everywhere the rod strikes, it can leave behind a
cut line which exudes droplets of blood.   The ultimate consequence of viciously
applying a rod to previously beaten skin is a linear white scar.  Beating the
nipples, clitoris or labia, particularly previously beaten nipples or genitalia
with the rod causes cuts that can take weeks or months to heal.  And it was only
rarely that the rod ever breaks."  Patty looked off into the distance.  Candy
turned pale.

Continuing I picked up from the table a crop.  "The riding crop in its various
permutations has found employment in chastising women and girls for at least the
last 300 years.  Properly employed, only the tip of the crop should strike the
flesh of the chastised female.  Only a lout would strike tender flesh with the
central part of the instrument.  With the disappearance of the horse, in
contemporary usage, progressively longer leather straps have been fastened to
the distal portion of the crop.  Thus, the crop has become a highly
sophisticated form of strap.  As such it finds its principal deployment in the
chastisement of the breast (especially the nipples) and pubis/perineum/perianal
region."  Both Candy and Patty grimaced at this point.

As I approached my summation I grew enthusiastic.  "Last of all is the whip. 
Always regarded as the most fearsome implement, the whip should only be employed
after careful preparation and only by the experienced or carefully directed. 
One of the reasons that Dr. Norcod achieved his fame was by developing a whip
that could be widely employed that did not cause terrible scarring.  He rejected
whips of leather and instead adopted whips made from plastic-covered electrical
wire.  Under most circumstances these can inflict considerable pain with minimal
trauma to the underlying muscle.  Norcod whips are classified by the number of
thongs, the length of the thongs, and the number of knots in the thongs.  Their
use is usually reserved for chastisements of the severest form conducted under
the supervision of an experience disciplinarian."  As both Candy and Patty
looked at me I added. "I am authorized to use all variants of the Norcord whip." 
I know that Patty is resigned that once again I will wield the Norcod whip on
her body.

Dr. Elsbeth Strikt
1:40 PM, August 1st, 2001
Candy Gets Her First Pussy Whipping

Having exhaustively expounded on the implements, that in the usual course of
chastisements can inflict terrible damage to the female body, I looked my two
female acolytes in the eye.  "I have decided that the next one to suffer
discipline shall be Candy Butz.  The part of her that shall be chastised is the
pubis, perineum and the perianal region.  The implement of discipline shall be
the riding crop with a six inch long by  one inch wide attached leather strap. 
Twelve strokes shall be inflicted."  The words were hardly out of my mouth than
Candy started screaming.  Unfortunately, I had heard it all before.  Several
times.  So without any further preamble I grabbed the crop I had been eyeing on
the table and I struck.  Swish-whup.

I struck the corrugated right labia of her vulva with a half force blow.  ARRRGH
was her strangled response as she bucked up and down on the horse and struggled
against the restraints that bound her wrists, elbows, knees and ankles.  Without
delay I struck her vulva a second time because I knew that this was the best way
to break her resistance.  This time I hit the left labia.  ARRGH BAARRGHUFF she
responded and began to vomit.  Shish-whup came a third stroke.  Back to the
right side this time.  Now she was vigorously dry heaving.  Since she had
nothing to eat since the previous night nothing was coming up.  Shwish-slap a
fourth time this time aimed at the left side of her perineum.  ARRGH ARRGH ARRGH
was the grunted response.  Now Candy started retching up mucous tinged with
green/yellow bile.  Quickly I continued, adding a fifth and sixth blow, right
and then left.  This put Candy over the edge.  She had already emptied her
bladder.  If she had anything to eat in the last 24 hours I am sure she would
have barfed it up or emptied her bowels.  However, she had nothing to give in
these performance areas.  Having given her all, she passed out.

"Well dear," I softly whispered into her ear "you aren't going to get off that
easy".  From the table I took a long swab stick and dipped it into the ammonia
bottle.  I inserted the ammonia soaked cotton swab into Candy's nose and twirled
it around.  My buxom blond beauty gagged and wretched once again.  "Wake up
sweet princess,  It is your dark-haired lover calling" I crooned.  I reached
between her legs and poked around before I found her clitoris.  I go a good hold
on her clitoris with my right thumb and index finger, and gave her sex a nasty
squeeze.  She found new vigor and screamed "NOOOOGH.  LEAVE ME A LOOOONNNEEE! 
DDOOONNNNN"TTT TOUCH ME!  NOOOOGH!"  Elated at Candy's return to the land of the
living I rigorously pinched her clit again. "AAAUUUGGGHH!" she responded and
strained in an attempt to bring her legs together.  I loved pinching her clit. 
As her chastisement proceedes I intended to pay more and more attention to this
organ.  As I massaged her clitoris with my fingers I began to plan the next
punishments I would inflict on her.  Although Candy' breasts and buttocks were
superb, her clitoris was only ordinary.  But before she could absorb any more
punishment, Candy needed to catch her breath.

"Patty! Did you pay close attention to how I slapped her vulva with the crop" I
called out to my assistant.  "Yes mame" was the redhead's reply.  I continued
instructing her.  "Whipping is pussy is not as easy as it seems.  Particularly
when the victim is face down and spread-legged on the horse."  First you need a
woman with the right equipment to whip.  Candy her has delivered several
children.  This has stretched her pussy and left it all wrinkled with redundant
skin.  Can you appreciate the difference between her bottom and yours."  Patty
nodded and fingered Candy's and then her own naked snatch.  She could appreciate
the difference.  I continued, "Second, the woman should have legs thin enough
that when you spread them by binding her knees to the legs of the horse her
privates stick right out at you.  This is aided by having her high up across the
horse to begin with.  If you were in Candy's position I would have had you stand
on a box when we tied your arms down before we spread you."  At this point Patty
blushed, probably remembering her 'wedding whipping' where I had her bound
supine in the 'diaper position' and so vigorously whipped her perineum that her
labia were still tender a month later.  "Third is the position of the
disciplinarian.  Rather than standing to the side like you do when spanking a
victim on the horse, you must stand directly in back of the woman.  Fourth,
rather than a sideways stroke, like you were employing with the tawse on the
thighs, you must do a forward and upwards stroke.  A bit trickly, its all in the
wrist, not the arm.  Fifth, the strength of the stroke is critical.  Too weak
and you might as well be slapping her pussy with your hand.  Too strong and she
will pass out too quickly."

My new acolyte had been paying rapt attention.  I handed her the crop.  "Here,
spread your legs slightly and strike your pussy lightly from the front" I
instructed.  She complied and emitted a "Grump, Ooomph".  "Very good Patty" I
congratulated her.  "I think that you can now appreciate the difference between
this and what I did to your privates with the Norcod whip".  She nodded her
head.  "Now I want you to stand directly in back of Candy and take a few
practice swings without actually hitting her."    Patty stood in there and gave
several inept swishes before she began to get the hang of it.  I encouraged her
with "not as easy as it seems, keep at it.  You are going to be getting some
rare experience today.  It isn't very often that we pussy whip a woman spread on
the horse.  As you know we very seldom pussy whip the girls.  When we do them it
is usually on the gynie table.  Mothers get it more often, but then again mostly
on the gynie table and mostly with the switch.  And those women usually have
several years of chastisement experience under their belt.  Or more correctly
under their dresses."  All throughout this mini-course on pussy whipping I stood
by Candy's head and fingered her erectile sexual organ whenever I got the
chance. 

By this point I concluded that Candy had sufficiently recovered and Patty had
enough practice for the beating of the blonde's vulva to resume. "Get ready to
give her six when I command" I commanded Patty while continuing to manipulate
Candy's clitoris.  Patty stood behind, crop in hand, awaiting my command.  "Now"
I said, getting my right hand out of the way. "One, two, three, four, five, six"
I said, calling the strokes.  Patty swung in compliance, hitting Candy from the
rear, between the legs.  Not perfect strokes but they sufficed.  Poor Candy's
screams suddenly ceased as she passed out again.  Just as I had planned she
endured exactly six blows then fainted.  I came around to Candy's backside and
inspected it.  Her buttocks and thighs were now fully swollen in response to her
earlier severe spankings.  The skin was beginning to turn from red to purple. 
However, although there were numerous tiny blood blisters she wasn't exuding
blood from her bruised skin.  Candy's genitalia were just beginning to show the
effects of being beaten.  Her fourcettee was bruised and was beginning to swell. 
As it swelled, her vulva was losing its corrugations and assuming a smooth
appearance.  I guess you can think of pussy whipping doing the same thing for
sagging genitals as alpha hydroxy acids do for the skin of the face - get rid of
those wrinkles.  But restorative creams don't make your face bleed and make
sexual intercourse incredibly painful.  On the other hand her pussy wasn't
bleeding.  YET.  My unconscious whore had reached the first stage of her
chastisement.


Dr. Elsbeth Strikt
2:00 PM, August 1st, 2001
Patty Gets Face Time

Before I embarked on further activities I needed to know where the day's
schedule stood.  I picked up the white phone that directly connected the
Treatment Room to Rev Payne's desk.  He quickly answered.  I summarized the
situation.  He indicated that I should leave Candy where she was.  He would come
down at about 2:25.  He would prefer if she was conscious by then.

I have to admit that I had found the chastisement of Candy's pussy extremely
sexually arousing.  In point of fact, I always found beating the genitals of a
female arousing, but seldom this intensely.  I went over to the chair that I had
set up earlier, took off my lab coat, hiked up my long black skirt and full slip
as high as they would go and sat down on the very back of my buttocks.  I called
Patty over, told her to kneel in front of my spread legs and said "I presume
that you know what to do next.  I know the dirty things you girls did to each
other and I now need release.  Remember, you still have the remainder of your
chastisement coming to you today."  Patty had turned almost as red in her face
as in her hair.  I could tell that she didn't like what she was about to do the
least little bit.  However, she gulped and set about it.  I closed my eyes. 
Then I unbuttoned my blouse, eased it off my shoulders and lowered the straps of
my slip.  My titties are too small to warrant using a bra.  Unlike my tiny
titties my areola are large and my nipples huge.  And today they started out
bruised and swollen and now were further distended by the erection of sexual
excitement.  Patty, it appears learned far more at 2nd Evangelical than the
three R's.  She appears to have picked up an advanced degree in pussy licking. 
I had to grip the sides of her head tightly with my legs because I was so
aroused.  Unfortunately I came all too quickly.  As the orgasm mounted I
squeezed my black and blue nipples as hard as I could, digging in with my
fingernails and wallowing in the pain.  Patty could sense my tensing and she
redoubled her efforts with lips and tongue, supplementing her efforts on my
clitoris by squeezing my ass with her hands.  At the peak of my climax the seat
of the chair had actually slid up into the small of my back as I had become
entirely rigid, mostly supported by gripping Patty's head in my crotch by my
legs.  I had not had an orgasm like that in years.  Anyone who thinks a man is
the best satisfaction for a woman has never had a sexual experience like this
one.  I hope that Patty stays with us for a long time.  Then my body slipped on
the chair and both Patty and I fell over on the floor.  Hell, I didn't care. 

Just as we were finishing up Candy started to moan.  I lay there, rigid on the
floor, fingering myself.  I moaned to Patty to take a swab, dip it ammonia, and
stick it into Candy's left nostril.  As I lay there in my post coital reverie, I
could hear Candy's screams.  She certainly was awake again.  I got up and
rearranged my clothing.  Yes, it was almost 2:25 and Rev. Payne should be
walking in any minute now.

Candy Among the Christians

Download 5.
Download Title, "Candy's Rape"


Candice Butz
2:25 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Sleeping Beauty Awakes

You know how they talk all the time in romance novels about how the hero or
heroine passes out and awakes to find themselves in a dungeon. YaDa, YaDa, YaDa. 
Well they got it all wrong.  First of all there are the cramps.  When you have
been tied up for two hours in the same position your big muscles are all
cramped.  Its like the aftermath of the biggest charley horse you have ever had
in your life.  Back and legs, Oh God.  Then there is your head.  I started the
day off with a hangover, retching.  I didn't have the time to get enough brandy
down to help me with the hangover.  I didn't even have the time for a cup of
coffee before the bitch from hell had me on this horse.  Then try seeing what
hanging your head down for a couple of hours does for your hangover.  My neck
muscles are knotted beyond believe.  Start the day off with the dry heaves and
then get kicked in the crotch a dozen times.  Men think that because they have
balls only they hurt when they get kicked in the crotch.  Men are not only
bastards they are arrogant fools.  Women hurt when struck in the crotch,
different but very bad.  Waking up after being tortured is not fun.

FUCK THAT BITCH she really knows how to hurt you.  An hour ago I was mostly
preoccupied by how much my ass hurt.  Then the real pain started.  Bad enough
for me to black out twice.  Now my head hurts worse than anything and every
muscle in my body aches.  My mouth is fouler than the bottom of any birdcage.  I
have no idea what she and her little puppy were doing to my pussy but I know
they didn't rip it out.  It hurts too bad.  It didn't hurt this bad after the
kids were born.  Before I was worried that they were going to kill me.  Now I
know they are not that nice.  Good old Dr. Death knows just how much punishment
the body can absorb.  She takes you just to that point and keeps you there for a
while.  Then pushes you over.  I think that just a minute ago she had her little
pup Patty suck her off.  I am sure that she gets a kick out of beating me. 
According to so much of pornography, the victim is supposed to get off on being
beaten.  Well this one doesn't.  It just hurts.  Elsbeth was trying to turn me
on by teasing my clit while they were beating my pussy.  The only one who was
getting turned on was her darkness.  I will survive this.  Of this I am now
sure.  They don't want to kill me.  They want me to be their little toy so that
they can hurt me, and hurt me, and hurt me.  If they kill me they can't hurt me
any more.  I will live.  And I will get back at Dr. Elsbeth Strikt.  And I will
hurt her, and hurt her and hurt her.  And her little dog Patty, too.

My job is to survive.  Once I have survived then I will figure out how to get
ahead.  I have always managed to extricate my self from a bad situation.  The
problem is to know just when you have hit bottom.  Then because things cannot
possibly worse, you know things will be getting better.  The problem is knowing
where the bottom is.  Last night I thought I had hit bottom.  My emotional pain
was at a maximum.  Things then got worse.  I had forgotten what physical pain
really is.  The Dark Lady has now reminded me.  Physical pain is worse than
emotional pain, trust me.  The question is how much worse can the physical pain
get.  Looking at it from this angle, I think things are going to get better.  


Rev. Max Payne
2:30 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Inspection of the Treatment Room

Things were quiet in the Treatment Room when I let myself in.  I was cheerily
greeted by Dr. Strikt who had a smile on her face and bloom in her cheeks.  She
certainly looked happy.  The former Mrs. Genron was quietly draped over the
heavy horse.  Patty, my secretary, was mopping the tile floor around the horse. 
I suspect that this means that the newly named Mrs. Butz had an accident.  Well
accidents do happen.  Somewhere along the line I will have to remind Candy about
her accident.  And discipline her for it.  And I will have to discipline her for
being late this morning.  And I will have to discipline her for failing to greet
me, like a good employee does when their ultimate superior enters the room.  So
much disciplining to do.  Fortunately we are well set up for that here.  Patty
certainly looked happy.  He cheeks were even more rosy red than Dr. Strikt's.  I
have to admit Patty looked unique wearing a tied off blouse, dark blue stockings
and not much else except shaved pubes and bruises.  I certainly have a rare pair
of women employees in these two.  Well time to pay some attention to the former
Mrs. Genron.

I walked over to the heavy horse and greeted her.  "Good afternoon Mrs Genron,
or should I say Mrs. Butz or may I be informal and call you Candice."  She
raised her tear streaked face and glared at me.  "Oh, it looks like your not
having much fun.  Didn't you like the tour that Dr. Strikt took you on.  I am
afraid that you have made a bit of a mess about you."  I walked around the horse
to the rear and inspected Mrs. Butz butt.  "It looks as if Dr. Strikt has been
busy.  I am sure that this behind was not purple when you got here this morning. 
In fact, part of your trouble is that Alex never disciplined you at all.  You
would have been a much better wife and mother if he had.  We will certainly
never make that mistake."  I put the back of my fingers to the surface of
Candy's buttocks to note the temperature.  "Well Dr. Strikt certainly warmed up
your bottom, didn't she.  Have you thanked her for it.  And she did such a good
job without making you bleed." I commented as I nodded the Elsbeth's direction. 
"Oh I certainly had help from your secretary, Rev Payne" Elsbeth cheerfully
rejoined, adding "she certainly is a very talented and eager to please
employee".

At that point my inspection shifted to Candice Butz's nether region.  Her labia
majora were purple and swollen.  I pinched one and Candy started screaming using
some of the foulest language I have ever heard in my life.  I placed my hands
over my ears until the shrieking stopped.  Looking at Elsbeth I enquired as to
whether Mrs. Butz's stomach was empty.  Dr. Strikt replied that at the end Candy
was bringing up only bile-flecked mucous.  "In that case," I suggested "why
don't you do something about the noise".  I think that Elsbeth actually likes to
hear the screams of females under chastisement.  I think it turns her on.  Pain
turns her on.  Even her own.  Sometimes especially her own.  Well I don't like
noise.   It gives me a headache.  I went over to the control panel and lowered
the lighting a little bit.  And put on a recording of Mozart.  "Ein Kline
Nachtmusik."  Elsbeth went over to the closet and got some duct tape.  My Dean
of Humanities went over to the offender and taped shut the offending orifice. 
With the environment much more congenial I walked over to the horse picking up
the chair along the way.  I sat down near Mrs. Butz's head and said "well, isn't
that nicer.  I have a duty to do that I promised Alex.  He said that as Genron
Energy started going down the slippery slope he lost interest in sex.  It seems
as if you haven't had much sexual congress the last few months.  You know that
sexual congress is very important for the mental health of a good Christian
woman.  Reverend Norcod believes that sexual congress is at the very center of
Christian Discipline.  Well, I am here to help remedy that."  I walked around to
the back and started rubbing Candy's genitals with my right hand.  They were
remarkably dry.  She certainly wasn't sexually aroused by pain.  In any case, I
didn't care if she was turned on by me or not.  This furrow was going to get
ploughed anyway.


Rev. Max Payne
2:40 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Disciplinary Sexual Congress

But first I had to get it up.  When you are sixty you aren't the lad you were at
sixteen.  So I summoned over my secretary.  "Patty" I said, "looks like you have
been a good girl so far."  She nodded.  "Do you want to show me how good you can
be".  I think she knew what I was talking about.  "Then take off your blouse and
bra".  A faint smile crossed her face and she gracefully complied.  As I
suspected she did indeed have a very pleasing pair of breasts.  Not magnificent
like Candy's but non-the-less pleasant.  By this point I was fingering with my
right hand Candy's vagina, which was terribly dry.  I further instructed Patty
gently "kneel down in front of me.  Unzip my trousers.  Do you know what to do?" 
Patty nodded her red head up and down.  As she kissed the glans of my penis and
started to move her tongue over it, I began to stiffen.  I gave a big sigh. 
This young lady certainly knew that a properly submissive female is the center
of the Christian experience. 

Candy, on the other hand, was very far from a Submissive Christian attitude. 
She clenched the muscles of her pelvic floor violently trying to force out of
her vagina the two fingers I now had inserted.  Well, we will go about this
slowly.  Patience is the essence of Discipline.  I inserted my fingers with more
force while Patty began to take at least half of my penis into her mouth.  Then
she began to lick my testicles.  And then take my testicles into her mouth and
suck on them.  I was becoming highly aroused.  I must discuss with her husband
the possibility of Disciplinary Sexual Congress with this young lady.  Finally,
having gotten Candy as moist as I was likely to get her, I swung around,
abruptly taking my fully erect penis out of Patty's mouth and shoved it all the
way into Candice's vagina.  I banged away as hard as I could, fighting against
her clenching muscles.  In the end her bound position and exhaustion from her
beating weakened her ability to resist and I was in like Flint.  And the fight
she had been giving me certainly strengthened my ardor.  I can't say I pleasured
her or she enjoyed it.  But that is not the point.  The point of disciplinary
sexual congress is to convince the female of inevitability.  Their role is to be
submissive and accepting.  So says Rev. Norcod.  All throughout this Candy's
response was vocalizing through the duct tape securing her mouth.  But the
silver tape helped stifle her screams to the point where they were merely
interfering with my enjoyment of the Mozart.  At last she ceased to struggle and
just hung there on the horse.  That is it, submit to the will of the Allmighty. 
By this point I had my dander up. I was vigorously thrusting back and forth
building up the steam to bring me to the point of ejaculation.  And finally
ejaculate I did.  I am sure that on many occasions Candy has had better sex. 
But it has been a few years since I have.  And there was enough spunk so that
when I went limp and pulled out, a little dribbled down the lips of her vulva. 
At that point I noticed that my zipper had abraded her bruised and battered
labia, causing them to slightly bleed.  The blood had gotten onto the front of
my trousers.  Well I would have to take care of that.  Candice just limply lay
there and quietly sobbed, feeling sorry for herself.  I really thought she would
have put up more of a fight.  Over the last decade I have subjected about a
dozen women to disciplinary sexual congress.  Almost all of them were feistier
than this.  Maybe
Candy is more amenable to proper Christian training than I thought.

After I zipped up, I walked around to Candy's head.  "Young lady", I said "did
you think that your new status didn't entail a few obligations.  I'm surprised
that Alex didn't tell you.  Once a harlot, always a harlot.  Tell me, is it
actually possible to rape a whore?".  I turned to Dr. Strikt and gave her the
next set of orders.  "Get Mrs Butz off the horse.  Secure up our little harlot,
but not fully suspended, let her rest for a while. Say over there" I pointed to
the block and lines nearest the door to the Humanities Locker Room.  I continued
"We have the Robinson's scheduled for 3 PM on.  Better put a hood on Sleeping
Beauty so that Mrs. Robinson doesn't recognize Mrs. Genron too quickly.  Once
you have run Mrs. Robinson through the first part of her treatment, and have
sent her upstairs, and have started Elizabeth's treatment, then you can begin
the next phase of Mrs. Butz's treatment.  You are welcome to use Barbara as an
assistant.  I am sure that Patty will wish to continue to assist you. I think
that she is learning very quickly.  But make sure that Mrs. Butz has recovered
by about 6 PM.  I will be coming down and I want the third phase of her
treatment to begin about then."  With this I gave Patty a pinch on her cheek,
she blushed.  I then went  over to the table and picked up the crop.  I gave
Candice two sharp blows between her legs, one squarely on each of her swollen
labia.  She squealed like a gagged pig.  Truly things are going smoothly today.    



Patty Pine
2:50 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Getting Ready for the Robinsons

"Jeepers" I said quietly to myself.  "When I accepted the job of secretary to
Rev. Payne I had no idea that these sorts of things went on."  He was a dark and
distant figure who we as students saw only infrequently.  We were all a little
scared of him but we had no contact with him.  Dean Strikt we knew and feared. 
As students we all had at least one friend that had spent an endless afternoon
in the Treatment Room with the Dark Lady (as she was called behind her back). 
None of them ever wanted to talk about it.  When pressed all they would say, and
it was usually quite a while later, was that the "chastisements" never involved
rape.  The girls, mostly seniors with only an occasional junior, that had
endured a session with the Dark Lady formed a sort of ultimate secret
organization.  They would talk about what happened, but only among themselves. 
For at least a month after a session they would be extra modest in the locker
room but occasionally we would catch a glimpse of a solidly black and blue
breast, thigh or buttock, sometimes with an oozing cut.  We knew that Dr. Strikt
preferred to have her sessions on Friday afternoons and they sometimes lasted
into the evenings.  The victim usually then spent the weekend in bed and
sometimes even missed a day or two of school the next week.  The sessions took
place at irregular intervals, usually about six weeks or two months apart. 
Often before holidays.  The girls mothers were always present.  You could see
them arriving at school, generally about noon on Friday.  Affluent ladies, well
dressed, with distress on their faces.  Talking with the girls later, they could
never figure out what they did that was so wrong as to justify a trip to the
"Treatment Room" with the Dark Lady.  I got the hint that their mothers were
given the same "treatment" that the daughters got.

I was beginning to understand things better although nothing quite made sense. 
As students, we girls were kept in the dark a lot.  I remember my wedding
whipping, after I graduated and a month before my marriage.  It was a rite of
passage, it was not done in response to something evil I had done.  These very
severe beating were always done "for your own good" rather than in response to
something you had done.  Looking back on it, the long afternoon sessions in the
Treatment Room that the couple of my friends and their mothers endured and my
Wedding Whipping had sexual overtones that I was not aware of until now.  Well,
sucking Rev. Payne's dick and eating the Dark Lady's pussy had more than
overtones of sex.  When Dr. Strikt beat Mrs. Genron's pussy, the Dark Lady
certainly seemed to be getting turned on.  And if I am correct, Rev. Payne's
intercourse with Mrs. Genron was certainly not consensual on her part and
amounted to rape.  This was going to be a very strange afternoon.  For the
second time today I am frightened.  But not necessarily of a simple whipping. 
There are worse things than a beating going on here.

So something is going on involving the Robinsons this afternoon at 3 PM.  I know
that Rev. Payne has listed in his daily calendar ROBINSONS in big red letters in
the 3:00 lot with an arrow going all the way down to the bottom of the day.  I
knew Barbara Robinson, she was an underclasswoman when I was a Senior, but I
didn't know her well.  Seniors don't mix with sophomores.  She is working today
as the volunteer receptionist up on the first floor in the front.  I remember
Barbara was a quiet modest girl, come to think about it, a lot like me. 
Definitely a good girl.  But I think that I distinctly heard Rev. Payne mention
an Elizabeth Robinson.  I think that Barbara had a sister, a couple of years
older than I did that ran away from church on the day of her marriage.  She took
off with another guy and was never heard of again.  I wonder  if that was
Elizabeth?

Well the Dark Lady is coming out of her reverie and Mrs. Genron, I mean Mrs.
Butz is starting to stir.  "Yes,  Dr. Strikt, I will undo her legs".  The Dark
Lady unlocked the padlocks that fastened Mrs. Butz's wrist restraints to the
front legs of the horse and undid the straps holding her at the elbows.  There
was no way that Mrs. Butz could stand.  Dr. Strikt and I each grabbed her under
an armpit and lifted her up off the horse.  When we set her upright on her feet,
he ankles immediately buckled and we were left supporting her.  We carried her
over to the door leading into the Humanities locker room and set her down like a
rag doll with her back against the wall and her legs splayed out in front.  She
was softly crying.

  Then Dr. Strikt told me to go over the sliding glass door closet and get the
boat hook.  I thought this a rather bizarre command but graduates of 2nd
Evangelical Girls Academy know better than to question the Dark Lady.  I found
the boat hook and brought it over.  Dr. Strikt took what looked like a TV remote
out of her pocket.  She pointed up to the ceiling and told me to snag a loop of
line up there with my boat hook.  Then I saw them.  A couple of lines with eye
splices in thimbles on the running ends going through a set of blocks across the
ceiling and down into the wall. When I hooked one of the eye-spliced loops, Dr.
Strikt pointed the remote at the controls for the stereo and the lights on the
other wall.  I could hear a whir and the line came down a couple of inches a
second.  When four feet of line were lowered, she told me to do the same for the
other line.  I looked up and noticed that there was a second line about three
feet from the first.  So we repeated the process of snagging with the boat hook
and running a concealed winch with the remote.  OK I caught on to what was
happening.  This was some sort of a suspension system.  Rev Payne had earlier
said something about "suspending" Mrs. Butz!

Dr. Strikt and I helped Mrs. Butz to her feet and brought her over to the lines. 
While I propped up Mrs. Butz, the Dark Lady used the padlocks to attach the
3/16" line to the wrist restraints.  Then she used the remote to winch up the
lines until Mrs. Butz's arms were hoisted above her head.  She wasn't really
suspended because her arms were quite slackly held.  Dr. Strikt took Mrs. Butz's
head between her hands and looked her straight in the eyes.  "Come on my little
blond friend, I want you to stand up."  Mrs. Butz moaned and shook her head from
side to side.  Dr. Strikt got louder "Stand up or else I will hoist you up until
just your toes are touching and then its up your nose with an ammonia swab." 
That got Mrs. Butz's attention and she struggled to stand on her feet.  Wobbly
knees and ankles and high heeled shoes didn't help but eventually she got her
footing.  I have to admit that her knees shook quite a bit and she had to wrap
her hands around the line and half pull herself up.  But eventually she settled
in.  The Dark Lady stepped back a couple of feet.  She surveyed Mrs. Butz and
said "Candy you are a pretty sight.  A thoroughly beaten butt and some of the
Rev. Payne's cum slithering down your thigh.  Tell you what.  If you promise to
keep your mouth shut, I will take the duct tape off."  Mrs. Butz nodded her head
up and down.  Skritch, the Dark Lady stripped off the tape with a speed that
must have really hurt.  Mrs. Butz was about to say something but obviously
thought better of it.  She was learning!  Dr. Strikt continued "From now on you
can communicate by nodding or shaking.  Think about some of the punishments I
might just inflict for excessive chattering."  I could see Mrs. Butz's pupils
contract in fear.  I think she had a good imagination.  "One more thing. Patty,
go over to the implement closet and go to a drawer marked hood.  In it you will
find some with a mesh veil over the face.  Bring it here."  I did as the Dark
Lady commanded.  Found one in black and brought it over.  Dr. Strikt put it over
Mrs. Butz's head saying "you can see out but most people will have a hard time
recognizing you stripped naked with a hood on your head.  Keep quiet and watch. 
You will have a couple of hours to rest, recuperate and be entertained.  But
remember, your time will come."

I looked up at the clock.  It was 2:59 PM.  We had Mrs. Butz secured and the
horse ready and waiting.  We were right on schedule.  We had one strung up blond
with dark stockings, pink high heeled shoes, and a black hooded veil over her
head.  We had one heavy duty punishment horse.  We had a gynecologic examination
table.  And looking around the room I noticed that in the other three corners
there were arrangements of blocks with lines running through them with eye
spliced loops in the running ends and the standing parts probably wrapped around
winches hidden in the walls.  Why did I ever accept a job as Rev. Payne's
secretary.  I know that it was my husband's idea.  Why couldn't I have gotten a
job at Wally World.

It was 3:00 PM and we were waiting for Mrs. Robinson.    

Candy Among the Christians

Download 6.
Download Title, "Meet the Robinsons"

Mrs. Anne Robinson
3:00 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
And Here's To You Mrs. Robinson

They picked a hell of a time to schedule this meeting, 3 PM.  Wednesday
afternoons are a special time for me.  I always have my schedule arranged so
that 2 to 4:30 are blocked out for my therapy.  That's right, my therapy, my sex
therapy.  Right now my latest toy is Benjy, maybe 16 if I'm lucky.  Goes to
Lamar High School.  Jesus, they could put me in jail for this but he is such an
amazing piece of pud.  Well if not a great lover than a hell of a fuck.  Now I
get this bullshit about having to bring Elizabeth, my daughter in for her
pre-Sophomore treatments.  What the hell are pre-Sophomore treatments and why do
I have to bring her in.  Christ on a crutch.  Probably for the clap.  As prissy
as Barbara is that is how wild Beth is.  In fact that is how I got my boy-toy. 
Beth absolutely refused to go to 2nd Evangel.  Threw a shit fit and I backed her
up.  Instead, as a freshman she went to Lamar which is a perfectly good public
school.  Chris eventually gave in.  Beth went to a party soon after school
started and when I picked her up afterwards I gave a ride home to this absolute
hunk who I later found out was only a year ahead of her.  Didn't even have his
driver's license yet.  I made sure that she invited him over for an early spring
pool party and by May I was balling him.  Probably the best hot cock I have had
in years.  And now I am probably going to be late for a good roll in the hay
because of my stupid daughter's stupid treatment.

As we walked in the door of the school there was my other daughter Barbara
playing receptionist.  She takes after her father and really gets off on these
holy rollers.  Well this year Chris won the school battle.  After he found Beth
making out with a girl and a guy at the same time.  Anyway the logistics should
be easier with both girls at the same school.  I just don't understand why
Barbara couldn't take Beth in with her this morning when she came to volunteer. 
But Dr. Payne's secretary was very adamant about me bringing her in.  Shit, I
was hoping to get Benjy up to snuff twice, now I'll be lucky to get him once. 
"Yes hello Barbara.  Yes I am on time."  Babs is not actually the oldest, we
just don't talk much about the daughter out in California a few years older than
Babs.  "Where do I take Beth the Brat.  Room B101 and then the Waiting Room. 
Where the hell is B101.  OK, the elevator and then the first door to the right." 
Good old cheery Babs.  Well let's drop off Beth and then I can blow.

Yea, most people here think Babs is the oldest.  That's one way I get away with
my age.  They do arithmetic, Babs is 17 so they figure that I was 20 when I had
her so they believe that I'm 37.  Actually I'm 45 with a 25 year old daughter
who if I was 37 would have had to have born when I was 12.  Not quite.  On the
other hand I have had only one boob job to correct the sag, no implants
necessary.  I am the best looking 45 year old in River Oaks.  And Benjy loves my
boobs.  To say nothing of my pussy.  "OK Beth, here it is, Room B101."  This
opens into a small foyer with three doors to the front and the two sides.  The
one to the right was labeled Waiting Room, Come Right In with a plastic plaque.
The door was unlocked and we walked right in.  I was surprised because I
expected a receptionist to be waiting behind a desk for us.  And I was puzzled
when I heard the door behind us go CLICK.  The room was absolutely bare.  No
chairs, no pictures, no nothing.  This was the screwiest reception room I have
ever seen.  However within seconds of our arrival the door on the other side
opened and in walked Dr. Strikt in her usual somber get up.  I had met her a
number of times before at parent-faculty functions and honors convocations.  A
real pain in the ass.  She looked Beth up and down from the "Mohawk" haircut
died green and orange through the tank top that bared her diamond studded navel
to the ragged jeans cut so low that a black thong was visible to the bejeweled
feet clad in sandals.  From some of Babs' friends I heard that Dr. Strikt was
known as the "Dark Lady" and I could see why.  "Well Elizabeth, I guess it is
time we got to know each other better.  Come with me."  She sent a shiver up my
spine, or rather down my pussy.  But I got boy-toy to get to.  As the Dark Lady
took my daughter through the door, I interjected "I'll be going now".  Dr.
Strikt shot me a glance and said "I'll be back for you later".  Before I could
tell her to cram it, I had other things to do, the two of them were through the
far door.

I turned on my heel and crossed the room to exit by the door I came in on.  But,
DAMN, it was locked.  The knob wouldn't turn.  I went back across the room to
the door that Dr. Strikt and Beth had just passed through.  DAMN, it was locked. 
I banged on it with my fist.  Boy was it solid, a steel door with some sort of a
solid core.  No response.  I yelled "Dr. Strikt, I am late for my appointment
with my therapist".  No response.  I went to the other end of the room and
pounded on that door.  Same sort of really solid steel door.  I yelled.  I
kicked it.  No response.  Shit.  I'm locked in.  I took out my cell phone to
call Babs to come down and let me out.  Shit, no signal.  There must be too much
concrete and steel to go though.  Then I noticed it.  A letter taped to the wall
on the side, halfway between the two doors.


Dow Chemicals, PVC Division
Office of the Senior Vice President

Dear Anne,

You have betrayed me for the last time.  I forgave you and took you back after
that debacle in California where you and my eldest daughter were both sharing
that same Jewish stud who then ran off with my daughter leaving the two of us
the laughingstock of all of LA.  Now you have cuckolded me again, and again with
a young man, Benjy, whom you once again share with one of my daughters.  I will
not spare either of you this time.

Someday you will emerge from your disciplining and servitude.  I have not yet
decided whether at that time I will take you back into my home.  It will depend
on how effectively you are transformed.

Maybe some part of me still loves you.

Christopher.

OH SHIT.  I suddenly realized that in my haste and my running around I haven't
peed since breakfast.  And now I had a really full bladder.
 

Ms. Elizabeth Robinson
3:10 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Reality Check

Weird fucking day, really weird fuckin day.  First my mom hauling my ass over to
school and like classes ain't even starting for 3 weeks.  And a really creepy
school.  I mean, my really dorky sister goes there and like no phat people go
there.  And then we go down to this creepy basement and this unbelievable creepy
dark haired lady takes me.  We go into this little locker room and she tell me
to strip, like get naked.  And I say "No way, this is like not only sexual
harassment, this is child abuse".  And then this red-headed lady comes into the
room and Like She Is Naked Except For Black Stockings and she is Carrying A
Whip.  And I say to myself, this is really a weird scene, these people must be
like on some really strange drugs.  Or maybe I am on some really strange drugs
and I am like dreaming this shit all up.  So this red-haired lady comes up to me
and lays her whip on my titty and tells me to strip.  And I figure like I am in
this bizarre lesbian conspiracy and that they are like going to kill me or
sacrifice me to some pagan Christian fundamentalist god.  So I take off my top
and my jeans and my thong and my sandals. And they take me to this door that
says B.169 Treatment Room.  And we go in and I say to myself, I must be in some
sort of a really weird movie.  Fuckin A.

Candice Butz
3:15 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Prepping Lizzie

I was pretty well recovered, in full possession of my wits, and standing firmly
on my own two feet when Dr. Strikt and Patty brought the girl in.  She looked
like one of my daughters' companions except she was naked.  The first thing they
did to her was to remove the jewelry that adorned her ears, nose, eyebrows,
Tongue!, nipples, navel and naturally, genitals.  They then took her over to the
gynecological examination table on the far side of the room.  I didn't have the
best view of what they did to here there, being as it was on the opposite side
of the room, having the table turned so that her bottom was facing away from me,
and having a mesh veil in front of my face.  But I have had enough experience
with GYN to recognize an exam table when I see one.  Rigged with stirrups rather
than knee holders. Boy was this kid a screamer.  She screamed when they put her
up in the stirrups and strapped her in.  Called them every dirty name in the
book and threatened to put her dad and the cops on them.  Can't say that I
wouldn't do the same.

Then Patty rummaged through the storage cabinet and came up with a five gallon
white polypropylene bucket and went over to the far side of the room with it to
the sink, toilet and shower area.  The bucket had a spigot in the bottom which
made no sense to me until I saw Patty fill the bucket with hot water and start
shaving Ivory Soap into it.  Yup, hot soap suds.  She hauled the much heavier
bucket back and attached it to a line that Dr. Strikt had lowered down with the
remote she kept in the pocket of her lab coat.  And up the pail went, up to
almost seven feet.  I know what they are going to do, it is clean out time. 
Sure enough they attached about six feet of Tygon tubing to the plastic spigot. 
Then Dr. Strikt went over to the storage area and to get the enema nozzle.  But
what a nozzle!  This one was not the size of your little finger,  it wasn't the
size of your thumb.  This sucker had a bulb on the end that must have been and
inch and a half in diameter!  Then it constricted down to maybe a half an inch
before it flared out again.  That was the biggest enema nozzle I have ever seen. 
That is going to stretch that girls asshole something fierce, like the biggest
turd of all times.  And although my view was less than optimal, I don't see any
lubricant being used.  The girl's previous screaming was nothing compared to her
performance when Dr. Strikt sat down on the folding chair and started working
the nozzle in.  The Dark Lady's commands of "Bear Down!, Damn It, Bear Down"
meant nothing to the teenager who had probably never had an enema before.  All
the kid knew was that she was getting her asshole torn out.  Finally, the
screaming subsided to a whimper as Dr. Strikt finally got it in past the first
bulge.  The whimper changed to a moan as the Dark Lady started running the hot
soap suds in. 

At that point Dr. Strikt sent Patty back over to the storage cabinet.  I could
clearly see the red haired, ever faith dog bring back a tray with some Betadine,
latex gloves, a couple of surgical clamps, a big syringe and something long and
thin wrapped in paper.  Dr. Strikt then went to work with these on the girl's
perineum, out of my line of sight.  The moans increased and turned to little
yips.  It was only when the Dark Lady unwrapped the item that I realized what it
was, a catheter, a Foley catheter.  I remember that from my second childbirth. 
Didn't like it one bit.  So an enema running in and now a catheter inserted. 
Aren't we getting a bit medical for a Ph.D., Dr. Strikt.  That certainly
elicited a roar from the girl, I'll bet that the Dark Lady is neither using K-Y
jelly nor is she particularly gentle.  Bet you that urethra is sore.  So
provisions are made for controlling bowels and bladder, how thoughtful.

O.K., Patty is being sent back to supply again.  Again another tray.  WHOA, I
recognize that, it is a vaginal speculum.  Well girl, looks like you are about
to get that third hole in the perineum treated as well.  That one got a scream! 
Guess the kid feels like she is really getting violated.  Well, kiddo, there is
a lot worse out there.  Hard to see exactly what is happening.  The Dark Lady is
probing around in there.  Doesn't look like she is doing a Pap smear.  I am
beginning to suspect that they may be putting a loop into her.  Didn't think
that there were any of those left around anymore.  Been there, done that, had
one, caught the worst case of PID from one.  Fortunately by that time I already
had two kids so if there was any infertility due to the loop it didn't matter. 
She screamed when they put the speculum in, she screamed when they grabbed her
cervix with the clamp, she screamed when put the first dilator up her cervical
canal, she screamed when they put the second dilator up her cervix and she
screamed when they put the loop in.  Its funny I really don't remember all the
details from when I got my loop but I was able to exactingly follow what they
did to her from the opposite side of the room.

At this point I was puzzled.  Why didn't they prep me like this.  They just beat
me till I pissed myself.  Why?  They are obviously making efforts to keep her
from soiling herself or getting pregnant.  Why not me?  Maybe I will find out. 
I can begin to see that part of what they are doing isn't simply punishing, it
is playing head games.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, they turn off the spigot on the
white pail of soapsuds.  For the last five minutes in between the GYNie protest
screams has come an increasing stream of complaints about the enema.  The girl's
colon must now be completely full.  Talk about a high colonic, she has the
naturopath from hell.  I bet they have run in over a gallon, the cramps must be
deadly.  Patty brings over a big zip loc bag, must be close to two gallons and
Dr. Strikt pulls the plug.  Whoa! There she blows!  Now that's a clean out.  

With the brown deluge over they took the girl off the GYN table and brought her
over to the horse that I had so recently occupied.  And yes they bound her in
the position that I so quickly came to hate.  Ass up in the air, legs spread. 
Then Patty mumbled the punishment litany and went to work on the girl.  I didn't
clearly hear how many she was to get but I counted at least twenty blows, with
the two tailed tawse.  At least one scream with every whack.  Even though the
girl's ass was turned away from me I could see her butt turning first pink, then
red, then red-purple.  Finally they stopped.  I will never forget the girl's
face.  At first her head was down but as Patty applied the strap the girl arched
her back and raised her head higher and higher.  After about the first 10 she
was piercingly looking straight at me.  Her face was red and she was screaming. 
Tears were running in rivulets from her eyes.  I do believe that the girl has
never had any kind of a real spanking before in her life, let alone a beating
like this one.

Candice Butz
3:30 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Hello, Mrs Robinson

Then they brought the woman in.  She was wearing a pink suit.  She Had On The
Same Pink Suit As Mine!  The Bitch.  I paid almost $2,000 for that fucking suit
and they told me it was exclusive.  That Bitch Was Wearing My Suit.  Instantly I
hoped that they would strip her and inflict the worst tortures on her.  They led
here over to the gynecological examination table.  As she walked by the girl she
was obviously profoundly affected.  The girl, who resembled her in every detail,
was obviously her daughter.  Then I got a good look at the lady.  I knew her. 
It's Anne Robinson!  I served together with her on the Opera Guild.  Her husband
is a high muck-a-muck at Dow.  Holy Shit!  It looks like she is in for it. 
Serves her right for buying a knock off of my dress.

Mrs. Robinson is instructed to take off her pink skirt.  They bicker back and
forth together for a while before a combination of threats of sophisticated
abuse to her daughter and threats of violence to herself convince Anne to remove
her skirt and the half slip beneath.  Interesting, she is not wearing panties,
not even a thong.  She rises a notch in my estimation.  What further causes her
to rise in my esteem is the supposition, based on the little that I can see,
that she is wearing some sort of a "Merry Widow" corset with suspenders for her
red stockings.  Well, she was ready for something kinky but probably not as
extreme as she has fallen into.  In any case red stockings really don't go with
that pink outfit.  Well, naked from the waist down she is strapped onto the GYN
table.  Which way will they go with her, beating or prep.

Aha!  She gets the same treatment as her daughter.  First the enema.  She
doesn't like the nozzle but she Mrs. Robinson doesn't make the fuss here
daughter did.  Probably goes to the same chiropractor I do.  Every month insists
on the good old "Aloe Vera" high colonic.  Then the Foley catheter up the
urethra.  Again, not as much of a protest.  She also gets a loop.  But she
doesn't make the fuss over it that her daughter does.  She's probably had her
share of OB-GYN.  Probably even had a loop or two.  And a D&C or four. I wonder
how many of her kids were conceived with her husband and how many with her
notorious lovers.  I'll bet that these two ladies, mother and daughters are in
for some non-consensual sex.  The excellent and considerate Reverend Maximillian
Payne doesn't want them getting pregnant.  Wonder why I was given that
consideration.  But they haven't beaten Mrs. Robinson yet.

Well maybe that is about to be remedied.  The dark lady goes over to the card
table and picks up about the wickedest whip I have ever seen.  She starts
running on in that irritating, stuffy voice of hers.  "This is a Norcod 20/5/5
Whip.  That means each strand of copper wire coated with plastic is 20 inches
long and has five knots tied into the business end, each three quarters of an
inch apart.  There are five strands in the whip.  It is expressly designed for
whipping the female genitals.  I shall demonstrate on your daughter first." 
Phew!  At this point Dr. Strikt walked over to the heavy horse where the dazed
Elizabeth awaited.  The girls backside was well hoisted and because both her
knees and her ankles were secured to the legs of the horse, her thighs ran in
almost a straight line parallel to the cross-piece of the horse.  All of this
ensured that the vulva of the slim girl was unbelievably exposed and accessible. 
Because of my position in the room I couldn't directly view the girls pussy but
I could use my imagination have been in almost the identical position all too
short a period ago.  And my more mature butt and thighs made my tender privates
a little less accessible.  Not that it really made any difference.  Dr. Strikt
continued "With a well educated swing of the whip one can land blows that cut
across the labia.  Thus!"  And with that she gave Beth two sharp strokes that
brought the girl's head and shoulders up smartly.  Then crossing over to the
other side behind the girl she used her backhand stroke to apply another two
strokes from the opposite side.  Elizabeth may have been a bit dazed but it
didn't interfere with her ability to howl.  Again the Dark Lady went on, "but
this whip can also be applied in the vertical position, striking right down the
axis of the lips".  While saying this she moved toward the front of the girl and
struck downward with the whip between the girl's legs using the tendency of the
whip to curl to bring it into contact with Beth's genitals.  The howling
increased to an almost unbearable level and attained a quality that was no
longer quite human.  Two blows down the center brought the girl to the edge of
unconsciousness.  Her head was now limply sagging down.  The dark lady lifted it
up by the hair, looked into the unfocused eyes and said "That wasn't actually in
the way of punishment, my dear, that was just a demonstration".

All of this time her mother had been straining at the bonds holding her to the
padded table trying to get a better view of what was being done to her daughter. 
She was hissing threats that by and large were ignored by everyone.  Finished
with the demonstration Dr. Strikt walked back over to Mrs. Robinson.  In this
case I could more clearly see what happened because Anne's legs were splayed out
in the humiliating GYNE Exam position.  And this table was much more extreme in
the position of the stirrups than I have seen in even the most insensitive
OB-GYN's office.  And those red stockings really don't go with that pink jacket. 
Dr. Strikt had the pussy whip in her hand and none of us had any doubt as to
what she was going to do with it.  The only questions were how many strokes and
how often Anne would faint before it was over.

I am beginning to see a pattern here, united by Rev. Max's bizarre mumblings. 
They are trying to break us.  To turn us into submissive model fundamentalist
Christian wives.  Dr. Strikt is nothing more than Max's lesbian tool. Albeit a
highly autonomous tool with a well developed sense of sadism.  The methods
employed are a combination of pain but also humiliation to sharpen the pain and
god knows what else they will come up with. There is an intelligence at work
here far more sophisticated than that of the devious Dark Lady's.  She sees only
pain and pleasure, our pain, her pleasure.  I see reshaping going on.  I can do
reshaping, I am a very plastic person.  I think I can see how things can get
better.  I see a better world coming in which I can survive.  I can see the best
of all possible worlds because I can adapt.  But why didn't he have me looped?

Rev.M.P. Payne
3:4 5 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Mrs Robinson, I Bring Greetings From Your Husband

I returned to the treatment room after they had gotten Mrs. Robinson settled in
but before the main action started.  The girl, the little whore that started
this whole affair going, was spread out over the horse with her private parts
well exposed.  I saw that they had already started on her therapy, her Christian
Discipline.  Her buttocks and upper thighs were already turning a nice deep
red-purple color and were one enormous welt.  Only here and there where the
tiniest little flecks of skin starting to detach and there was really very
little blood.  Which ever of my girls had worked little Miss Robinson's butt
over had done a truly excellent job with the leather.  Her genitals seem to have
received mild attention with the whip, as I had instructed.  Her urethra was
decorated with a clamped-off catheter.  Her well exposed labia were swollen and
numerous small cuts were oozing blood.  I instructed Patty to staunch these cuts
with some of the vinegar brine.  Elizabeth screamed at the application but it
quickly stopped the bleeding.  I felt around in Elizabeth's fourchette and
located her labia minora.  They were as of yet minimally traumatized.  So I gave
them each a hearty, twisting pinch.  I did the same for her clitoris which was
much easier to locate by simply running my hand up the catheter and then
cephalad.  The young whore screamed obscenities at me with each manipulation.  I
told her "Welcome to 2nd Evangelical School, Miss Robinson.  I know that you
mightily resisted coming here but I see your father eventually convinced you. 
We are certainly pleased and honored to have you.  I am sure we will enjoy
teaching you some Christian Discipline and Deportment.  Maybe someday you may
even enjoy it."  She spit on my trousers, mostly because she couldn't turn her
head far enough to reach my face.  As I walked over to where her mother was
bound supine to the exam table I remarked to Dr. Strikt, "Elsbeth, you could
have done a better job of tenderizing that young ladies clitoris and inner labia
while you had her on the table.  You may want to use the pliers on her before
the next phase in her training.  It may seem extreme to use such a harsh measure
on someone so young but seldom have I seen one so committed to Satan at such an
early age.  We really have our Christian obligation to perform."

Mrs. Robinson was nicely spread out awaiting her chastisement.  As instructed
they have only stripped her from the waist down and her bottom is still
unmarked.  I presume they have inserted her Lippes loop.  Damned hard to get
these now-a-days, damned lawyers.  From the way in which perspiration beads on
her brow I suspect she has witnessed at least some of what has been done to her
daughter.  I reassure her "Hello Mrs. Robinson.  I want you to know that your
husband will be her shortly.  I know that you are distressed by what has been
done to your daughter so far, but I want you to know that it is nothing compared
to what will be done to your far more mature body.  I have spent a lot of time
counseling your husband over the last week.  I am proud to announce that he
finally accepts that it would not be Christian to torture you to death.  We
believe that every one has the capacity to repent and do penance for their sins. 
No matter how heinous and repeated they be.  In your case, I am afraid that your
penitence will have to be long and severe.  However, I am convinced that in the
end we can lead you down the path of righteousness.  Training your daughter will
be accomplished in a matter of days for she is young and has been a sinner for
only a year or so.  You, you may requires weeks, yea even months of training and
discipline.  Ah, but well, let's get on with it.  Dr. Strikt, pull her catheter
and let's start off with two dozen with the Norcod 20/5/5, shall we.  That
should get us to about 4:00 PM by which time Chris should be getting here." 

I stepped back and watched my darling Dr. Strikt go about her business.  She
yanked out the Foley catheter.  Unfortunately, for Mrs. Robinson she failed to
first deflate the fluid-filled tip of the catheter that keeps it from slipping
out of the bladder.  So instead of a four millimeter tube smoothly slipping out
and down the urethra, a four millimeter rubber tube pulled a centimeter wide tip
all the way down the urethra, cruelly dilating the urethra as it went.  Being a
male and therefore possessed of a urethra over twice as long as Mrs. Robinson, I
blanched at the thought of the pain it must have caused.  Mrs. Robinson
responded with a blood curdling scream, hurting my ears and causing my teeth to
buzz.  But in any case Dr. Strickt sternly recited the litany and set to work. 
First she stood below Mrs. Robinson and to her right and aimed the first blows
to land at a right angle to her labia and mons.  In what would be a surprise to
the uninitiated, she struck with only moderate force.  Her objective was to
bruise and cause swelling, to sensitize the nerves.  It was later that the flesh
would be scored and Anne driven to the edge of consciousness.  Sometimes I think
that Elsbeth is driven less by a sense of Christian duty and more by a sense of
sadistic arousal. 

Although these blows were not as severe as they could be, Mrs. Robinson
none-the-less reacted with piercing screams.  Patty, knowing how tender my
sensibilities are, finally silenced her by copious applications of duct tape.  I
looked at Patty and said "Thank you, you know how that irritates me.  Now watch
her carefully and remove the tape if she starts to throw up".  Having
administered six blows across Mrs. Robinson's mons and genitals from the right,
Dr. Strikt moved to Anne's right side and prepared to give six from the left.  
Mrs. Robinson was now sweating heavily.  I opened her jacket to cool her and
noticed that the corset she was wearing underneath did not cover her nipples. 
How clever I thought.  Her chest was heaving up and down as she gasped.  Then
she started panting like a dog.  I nodded to my dark lady and Dr. Strikt started
in on the second six.  A bit harder this time, perhaps three quarters of full
strength.  After two of these, Anne began shaking violently and Dr. Strikt
stopped for a minute.  After a short pause my dark lady resumed her stroking,
keeping the pace slow as Mrs. Robinson bucked and heaved with every blow.

We were now at twelve.  The halfway point.  Mrs. Robinson was starting to gag. 
I motioned to Patty and she removed the duct tape.  At this time Dr. Strikt
decided to take a break.  While Anne vomited, choked and gaged, Elsbeth went
over to young Ms. Robinson.  She selected the pliers from the card table and
squatted between Beth's splayed legs.  "Miss Robinson", my dark lady said, "I
have a surprise for you".  I couldn't see, from where I stood, whether Dr.
Strikt grasped one of her internal labia in the jaws of the pliers or the
clitoris.  Which ever it was, when Elsbeth squeezed, Elizabeth screamed.  I hate
screaming.  Anyway, I stood by Mrs. Robinson to make sure she didn't choke on
her vomit but Patty was doing a good job of ministering to her.  A second scream
from across the room indicated that another sensitive part of Ms Robinson's
genitalia had been located by Dr. Strikt.  Looks like Mrs. Robinson had Mexican
for lunch.  Yes, refried beans, corn tortilla and some sort of meat.  "Good job
Patty" I said encouraging her clean up efforts.  This time the noise coming from
across the room was more of an animal roar than a high-pitched screech.  Ah,
that must be the clitoris and the first two must have been the labia minora.

Satisfied, Dr. Strikt returned to the mother.  She smiled at Anne and said "Well
Mrs. Robinson, are you ready to continue".  The mother shook her head from side
to side and said "Please, please, for the love of God, stop, I can't take any
more of this.  Oh please, oh please."  Elsbeth cut off the babbling with another
application of duct tape and began the second half of Mrs. Robinson's pussy
whipping, striking blows from the head of the table.  These were with full force
and she was now striking from above, right down the spread slit.  She was
striking swollen skin on top of almost solid red-purple bruise.  Now the knots
would be tearing skin.  And oh so slowly.  Dr. Strikt so enjoyed a pussy
whipping.  Mrs. Robinson was enjoying it less.  The bucking and strangled
screams reached a crescendo after about six blows of the whip.  I intervened,
"Dr. Strikt, I do think we have driven her close to the edge.  She is starting
to bleed.  Why don't you go and play some more with Elizabeth.  But do silence
her, those screams are getting on my nerves.  Patty, use some of that vinegar
brine on her privates, would you."  The application of the salt saturated
distilled vinegar quickly stopped the bleeding and had the added advantage of
reviving Mrs. Robinson a bit.

Three muffled screams came in short order from across the room and shortly Dr.
Strikt was back.  She stated, "It is nice.  Once you have used the pliers on a
girls inner labia and clit, they swell so nicely it is much easier to treat them
a second time.  I also do believe that the anticipatory terror is much greater
after the first time.  This time she knew what was coming and just how painful
it would be.  Well, back to work."  Mrs. Robinson was now ready for the next six
lashes.  She also knew what was coming, how painful it would be, and that it
would be impossible to escape.  The whip descended six times.  Each time it was
accompanied by a grunt followed by a moan.  With three yet to go, Dr Strikt
paused to wipe the blood off the whip and Anne's perineum so that blood would
not splatter the white walls and ceiling.  But then she went back to work and
slowly finished that part of the job.  That Mrs. Robinson never fainted was a
testament to the skill of my dark lady.

When Elsbeth was finished I stripped the duct tape from Anne's mouth.  Her eyes
were glazed and her pupils pin-points but she was still conscious.  I said to
her, "Mrs. Robinson we are not yet finished with this part of your discipline. 
You husband Chris and I talked a very long time about your pussy whipping. 
Eventually we came to an agreement.  After the regular part we would have a
special treat for you.  Patty, go over and get the second set of pliers.  Now
Patty is going to hold your pussy lips apart with the pliers.  She will grasp
each of your outer labia in the pliers and pull them apart.  That way your inner
labia and your clitoris will be fully exposed.  Then Dr. Strikt will give them
twelve licks with the switch.  Does everybody know what they are to do.  That's
it Patty, squat down there by the foot of the table.  Dr. Strikt stand at the
head.  You know Anne, this is trickier than it looks."  My girls performed
magnificently.  Swish-splat.  Mrs. Robinson's eyes rolled up in her head.  After
six she lost control of her bowels but having been thoroughly cleansed all that
came out was gas and a small amount of whitish mucous.  Patty went and cleaned
up and wiped Anne down with some vinegar brine.  Then Elsbeth gave Anne the last
six finishing just as Anne finally passed out.  I congratulated both of my girls
on what was probably the finest pussy whipping ever given at 2nd Evangelical.  I
said "It will probably take at least a month for Mrs. Robinson's fourchette to
heal from this.  And we are just getting started."       

Candy Among the Christians

Download 7.
Download Title, Intercourse Aversion Education


Candice Butz
4:00 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Hello Mr. Robinson

Promptly at four o'clock Mr. Robinson walked in the front door of 2nd
Evangelical and his daughter Babs escorted him down to the basement and took him
to Room B.169.  I watched him as he walked in wearing his navy blue suit with
the jacket slung over his shoulder.  He never aroused the sense of loathing in
my social circle that his wife did.  By and large we liked him.  Barbara then
returned to her post at the entrance to the school.  He walked over to his wife
who was bound supine with her legs spread, unconscious and with blood oozing
from innumerable cuts all over her pubis and perineum.  "She couldn't take it,
huh" he remarked.  Rev. Payne said "She passed out on the last of the specials. 
Just a minute before you walked in the door.  It went perfect."  There was a
faint odor of urine, feces and vomit in the air.  Patty was busily mopping the
floor with water to which Pine Sol had been added in an effort to freshen the
place up.  Next Mr. Robinson noticed me.  Its hard to miss a lady chained up to
the ceiling with nothing on but a pair of black stockings and pink high heels
and with a black bag over her head.  "Oh she's just somebody whose hanging
around" remarked Rev Payne with a little bit of a chuckle.  Oh yeah.  Then they
walked over to the now fully alert Elizabeth.  He father removed the duct tape
from her mouth unleashing a torrent of mixed pleadings and curses.  He replaced
the tape muffling the blatherings.  Her father walked around to her rear noting
with pleasure the uniformly crimson and purple flesh, some of which was starting
to turn black and blue.  He fingered her genitals and was pleased to note the
cuts and welts.  "I'll bet it would hurt like hell if she got fucked in that
mess" he observed.  Dr. Strikt agreed, "Vaginal sexual intercourse will be
extremely painful for at least two weeks.  If further chastisements are
periodically applied and proper attention is paid to preventing infection,
extreme dysparunia can be maintained for over a month."  Chris Robinson replied
"What the hell is dysparunia?"  Dr. Strikt answered him "Dysparunia is painful
intercourse". 

Mr. Robinson continued. "Well neither of them will be balling Benji for a while. 
He will be walking funny for a long time.  It looks like he was cruising around
in Little Mexico, probably looking for some crack. He got carjacked by some of
the Five Tray gang.  They roughed him up a little when he resisted.  I just got
the report from the Ben Taub.  He will live."  Rev. Payne commented "That's a
rough part of town for a white boy from River Oaks to be cruising.  How bad was
he hurt?"  Robinson replied, "I guess the home boys kicked him a few times too
many in the cojohnes.  The E.R. doc said it's a bilateral orchiectomy for him. 
Dr. Strikt, that means they will have to remove both of his balls."  Upon
hearing this I could see Elizabeth begin to buck up and down on the horse.  I
guess she didn't want a capon for a boy-toy.  Her father walked up to her and
patted her on the head saying "Don't worry my little girl, you won't be lacking
for cock.  In fact, before too long you are going to be wishing you never saw a
cock in your life."  Glancing over at Rev. Payne he asked "Is everything ready
for the next phase?"  Rev. Payne nodded yes.  Chris further commented "Are you
sure these guys can perform".  Dr. Strikt piped up, "They have never failed in
their duty."  I was puzzled and intrigued by the direction this conversation was
taking.

Rev. Maximilian Payne
4:05 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
We Call It The Intercourse Aversion Education Program

Mr. Robinson was highly impressed with my facilities, my personnel, and the
program so far.  When he first came to me his rage was almost uncontrollable.  I
brought him around to the view that vengeance is the Lord's, to us falls cold
discipline.  I began to explain to the assembled crowd how when the
transgression was sexual in nature, the Norcodian principle of Disciplinary
Sexual Congress should be the focus of the chastisement.  Except in the case
most directly at point, our purpose is not simply to promote submission of the
female to the powers that been.  Rather we wish to promote aversion to sexual
intercourse.  When proper authority demands submission, then intercourse will
transpire as part of the female's Christian duty.  But wanton sexual
licentiousness will become anathema.  There is nothing better to achieve this
state of Intercourse Aversion than repeated involuntary sexual congress under
conditions that are not only extremely painful but also involve a maximum of
humiliation.  This is the whole point of our Intercourse Aversion Education
Program.  And this is why I have hired some of our service staff.  They have
special qualifications that suit them for their work.
 
Candice Butz
4:15 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Fuck Intercourse Aversion, I Call it Rape

What happened next is almost beyond my ability to describe.  Two black men
entered the room.  They looked familiar.  They were dressed in Security Guard
uniforms. They were the church Security Guards, Philippe and Jose.  They were in
their uniforms with their names embroidered above their left pockets.  I had
seen them dozens of times and never thought a thing about them.  Always
extremely polite and soft-spoken.  Haitians.  Never really noticed them.  That
is until they walked into the Treatment Room and went up to the Robinson girl
and Mrs. Robinson.  And unzipped their flies.  And pulled out the biggest cocks
that I have ever seen.  Honestly!  And remember I started off my career as a
pole dancer and whore.  Those timbers were huge.  One had a pecker that flaccid
was at least twelve inches long and the other's schlong almost reached his knee.  
And Gawd, how thick around!  In my professional days I had never seen anything
that big.

Patty had just finished reviving Mrs. Robinson by swabbing out the inside of her
nose with ammonia.  That smell did not bring back pleasant memories to me. 
Patty then went over to the two Haitians and started hoovering them to get them
jump started.  Her eyes were wide with amazement.  She could hardly get tools of
that size in her mouth.  As they got woodies their penises did not get much
longer but they did get thicker.  Intellectually I know that a woman's vagina
can stretch to an amazing degree.  Just try having a kid or two.  But I'll be
damned if I can figure out how you are supposed to accommodate that thing in
your twat!   Jose went over to the Robinson girl and began to service her. 
Philippe attacked Anne Robinson's cunt.  I am sure that those pussies were dry
as a bone.  Despite what you read in the porno books there is nothing like a
beating to dry up your cunt.  But both of them had bloody vulvas from their
beatings and the Haitians used the bloody secretions for lubrication.  That
convinced me those penises were real, they wanted lubrication.  What further
astounded me was that both Ms. Robinson and Mrs. Robinson took things (mostly
cock) with such equanimity.  Both of them seemed, at first, to regard this as a
new and exciting experience rather than as rapine.  That told me something about
their tastes. 

Up until this point I had always regarded my theoretical social peers with a bit
of awe.  Probably because I started out as a backwoods, East Texas bastard and
progressed on to whore.  I always thought of my currently social circle as, well
being morally better than me.  Now I watched, as a daughter and mother from a
family that was socially well established when my mom was being kicked out of
high school, take to it like, well, hookers.  But that didn't last long.  Once
Jose and Philippe started to thrust and bang the base of their shafts into those
lacerated labia the cries of pleasure turned to cries of protest and pain.  Soon
enough the ladies were screaming and Chris Robinson indicated that he did not
want them gagged.  He wanted to hear them scream.  And as the small cuts were
torn into lacerations by the thrusting of those big woodies the screaming
intensified and became continuous.  But the grunting Haitians knew what they
were getting paid to do.  Jose came first shooting his wad into Beth who became
limp as a rag and sobbed quietly.  Philippe took a little longer with Mrs.
Robinson but eventually he tensed and then got his release.  Anne continued to
scream even after he pulled out.  It didn't sound like a scream of pleasure. 
She called her husband every dirty name in the book.  I didn't even know some of
the words she was using.  Probably some foreign language.  The Haitians said
nothing, just stood there with bloody, semen streaked cocks hanging flaccidly
from their unzipped trousers.  I have to admit I was astounded.

Rev. Payne looked at them and in Patois asked them (I guess) if they were OK for
another go.  They smiled and said what appeared to be yes.  So Patty put her
lips to work, not even bothering to clean their cocks off, and soon both men
were ready to start business again.  This time Philippe went over to Beth and
Jose started in on Mrs. Robinson.  If the women didn't like it before, they
liked it even less now.  In particular Mrs. Robinson was bucking and probably
trying to clench the muscles of her pelvic floor.  I wish I could have taught
her some hooker tricks.  When you are getting raped, probably the best thing to
do is to go totally flaccid.  Nothing cools a hot pecker quicker than a wet
sloppy loose pussy.  Not enough stimulation.  Particularly if the rest of the
body goes limp as well.  The more you struggle the more they seem to enjoy it. 
Clenching your muscles can never keep them out forever and you can take quite a
battering in the process.  Well this time both of them got screwed.  And for a
lot longer time than before.  Eventually, Philippe came first.  There must have
been something about Beth that caused men to climax sooner.  Jose took much
longer to ejaculate.  It was after 4:45 before he shot his load.  Both women
were quietly sobbing, Anne uncontrollably. The men just zipped up.  I saw Mr.
Robinson pass each of them a bill on their way out.  I think it was a Ben
Franklin.  I got to admit, again strictly from a professional perspective, that
they were big dick fucking machines.  If I ever come out of this alive, I am
going to have to try them out.  Not as lovers but just for testing, from a
professional point of view, of course.  But with the departure of the Haitians,
the show wasn't over yet, not by a long shot.


Patty Pine
5:00 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
The Five O'Clock Follies or Overtime

By the time the two black men left at five o'clock my nerves were pretty well
shattered.  I had watched and participated in floggings and seen three women
raped.  And I was getting hungry.  And I recalled I was still due some sort of a
beating, probably a whipping.  I wondered how late this was going to go.  I
couldn't believe the size of the organs on those black men.  If I ever had
intercourse with one of them I would worry about being injured.  Despite her
wayward path, I hoped that Elizabeth was OK.  What was going to happen next?

I soon enough found out.  Both Rev. Payne and Mr. Robinson unzipped their pants. 
And both already had erections.  I guess that must be natural after having
watched what amounted to a better show than you would see in almost any
pornographic movie.  After those two black men, though, their penises looked
tiny.  Mr. Robinson's was just a big as my husband's and that plenty big enough
for me, but by comparison with what I had just seen, anything normal would from
now on seem small.  But I still wondered how much of an insult two normal
penises could give after what the Robinson women, mother and daughter had been
through.  It was only slowly that I realized that the men were using the mixture
of blood and semen oozing from the ladies' vaginas to lubricate the ladies'
assholes.  It took the Robinson women a bit to realize it as well.  This is not
surprising considering they had each just been raped twice.  It probably sunk in
when they received their first thrust up the ass.  At this they began
squallering and hissing threats and pleading for mercy.  I suspect that
Elizabeth had never taken it up the ass before (I know that I have never) and
she piteously plead with the Rev. not to sodomize her insisting that it was the
worst kind of sin.  That's quite a change in her attitude in two hours.  I'm not
so sure about Mrs. Robinson who was mostly threatening her husband.  I'm not
sure that this was a wise thing to do considering her position.  Both men
climaxed about the same time.  It was a short anal rape, which probably
reflected the highly aroused condition of the two men. After, that was quite a
performance they had watched earlier.  I was further startled when they then
switched partners.  The Rev was now corn holing Mrs. Robinson while Mr. Robinson
was ass fucking his daughter.  This time they spent a lot longer at it, taking
their time while the women were reduced to futile sobbing.

At this point I sort of had an idea of what was going to occur next.  How could
they further humiliate these women.  There was one orifice left.  Mr. Robinson
walked around to the front of his wife with his flaccid member limply hanging
down.  It was covered with a mixture of semen from four men and both her and her
daughter's feces.  It must have been one of the most revolting things I have
ever seen.  He instructed Anne that she was to give him a rim job.  If she bit
him, the least little nip, he would take the pliers and personally pull out her
four front teeth, upper and lower.  I think he meant it and I suspect that she
knew he meant it too.  Because soon enough, she started to lick his dick.  This
was a bit tricky because her hands were tied so all she had to work with was her
tongue and lips.  But soon enough she was making progress and her husbands penis
was returning to turgidity.  Similarly, the Rev seemed to be making progress
with Elizabeth.  I have heard that among a lot of the kids out there in the
public schools, a blow job is no longer considered a big deal.  Some don't even
regard it as being sex.  Just sort of like hugging and kissing.  Anyway,
Elizabeth seemed to know what she was doing no matter how little she liked it. 
Besides, with all the sucking going on, the quiet was nice.  Eventually both of
the men ejaculated, not surprisingly making the women swallow their ejaculate,
thus increasing the humiliation.  I guess they were satisfied at this point.

After cleaning up, the men summoned Dr. Strikt and I.  We took Elizabeth off the
horse and strung her up just like we had done with Candy.  At first she was
wobbly on her feet but at least she didn't have to balance on high heels the way
Mrs. Genron (oops, Mrs. Butz) did.  Soon enough she settled down.  Then we got
Mrs. Robinson up.  Rev. Payne had her button up her jacket and inspected her. 
Her hair was a mess as was her makeup.  Her jacket was soaked with sweat.  She
had a mixture of blood and semen running down the inner aspects of her thighs. 
And her stocking had multiple runs and tears from her struggles against her
restraints.  She had the appearance of having been thoroughly beaten.  Which was
perfectly true.  And I have got the feeling that her ordeal is just beginning. 
They are taking her upstairs with them.  They inform Dr. Strikt and I that they
are going out for a couple of drinks and dinner and that they will be back by
about nine o'clock.  Mrs. Robinson will take over as receptionist from Barbara
who will go out to dinner with them.  They will bring us back some food when
they return.  Meanwhile feel free to have a soda from the stock in Rev Payne's
office fridge.  Dr. Strikt knows what to do with Mrs. Butz and Ms. Robinson
until they return.  Ah, and yes Patty, there is also the matter of your
discipline for her to deal with.  It was five minutes until six o'clock.  And I
still had no idea when I would be going home tonight.  But at least now I knew
it would be real late.  And I knew they hadn't forgotten about my punishment. 
And I was hungry.

Ms. Elizabeth Robinson
5:30 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Unreality

 I really cannot believe what is going on around me.  Bad Drugs!  Bad Drugs! 
Too often at parties I take what ever is handed to me.  I must be having some
sort of a really weird drug reaction.  I just hallucinated that I was fucked by
two niggers with gigantic dicks.  Then I got butt-fucked by this guy and my dad. 
Then I had to blow this guy.  I hope I wake up soon from this nightmare.

But I hurt so bad and the pain is so real that it can't be a hallucination.  If
this is real I can't handle it.  I don't know what I would do.  I think I will
go insane but I don't know how.


Mrs. Anne Robinson
6:00 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
The Receptionist

The bastard.  The fucking bastard.  He planned it all.  Him and that creepy
minister friend of his.  They had it all set up, every detail planned.  Benjy
went cruising for cocaine, right.  They probably forged a message from me
setting up a meeting somewhere on the Southeast side of town.  And when he
walked into the motel room they had banditios waiting for him.  He's probably
got the cops paid off.  And the doctors at the Ben Taub E.R.  He's got everybody
paid off.  And I am trapped here.  And God knows what he's got planned for me
next. 

So here I sit.  My right ankle is chained to the reception desk.  I am
essentially naked from the waist down.  But as long as I can sit behind the desk
with my legs under the desk, from outside the door I look normal.  Well actually
I look like hell, but you can't tell I'm half naked from outside.  Actually if
you were standing in front of me you might not notice that all I am wearing is
my jacket and this stupid corset.  I have a button to press to let people in the
door.  There are two security guards patrolling the premises so I should be
safe.  Of course both of them have already raped me.  With the biggest dicks I
have ever seen in my life.  Or even heard of.  Well who the hell is going to
stop by the school after six o'clock on a Wens night three weeks before the
start of classes.

Oh Ho.  What is this pulling up.  A suburban.  It's got four men in it.  Oh my
God they are coming up to the door.  They are looking in and tapping on the
glass.  I can't let them in.  They have seen the intercom and are talking into
it.  "Hey lady!  I really can't believe this, ya, there is a lady in there.  Hey
lady, open the door.  Were the guys from the Texas City plant.  Chris sent us an
e-mail earlier today.  I really can't believe this.  Hey lady open the door. 
Otherwise we just go and contact Jose and Philippe, the security guards and they
will let us in."  OK, I think I see what is coming off.  I really have no choice
but to let them in. 

They made me do it under the desk, so nobody outside could see it.  They were
half drunk.  They took me doggie style.  Bent over on hands and knees.  I had to
give one guy a blow job while another fucked me either in the cunt or in the
ass.  They thought it was some big sort of a joke.  HA HA!  Everything arranged
by e-mail.  Show up at 2nd Evangelical High School at 6 PM sharp.  There will be
this lady behind the reception desk, stripped, lubed and ready to go.  If you
have any trouble just call the security guards, Jose and Philippe and here are
their cell phone numbers.  Oh yeah, and be sure to tip the security guard $20
each when you leave.  Be sure to be gone by 7 PM. 

As they leave me, even more sore and bedraggled they say "See you around, thanks
for the good time". And pop open another Miller.

Then at 7PM a red Ford F150 Club Cab pulls up. Five men, three quarters drunk
tumble out.  "Hey lady, we're the guys from the Ocean City plant.  Open up."

SHIT!

Candy Among the Christians

Download 8.
Download Title, Breast Beatings


Elsbeth Strikt, Ph.D.
6:00 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Whipping Time

Well, well, well.  I have three girls, all naked and all in need of a good
whipping.  Where shall I start.  Candy, Beth or Patty.  This much I can say,
Candy and Beth have well prepared bottoms, all ready for definitive
chastisement.  "Patty, we need to sit down and talk about things."  I motioned
her to sit down on the metal card chair next to mine.  "Metal is so cold on bare
buttocks, isn't it?"  She nods in reply.  "Good" I comment.  I can see that she
is starting to shiver, and not simply from the cold metal seat she is sitting
on.  She has been in a state of apprehension all day over her impending
punishment.  She knows it is coming but she doesn't known when or what or how
many.  Good.  We will keep her in a state of apprehension.  To tell the truth I
have not yet decided her fate.  Tush, tits or pussy.  Or some combination.  She
has sucked my cunt already once today.  I may have more relief from her yet
today.  I may keep her until late and then chastise her just before midnight
while the other victims are resting.  And awaiting the start of their August 2nd
punishment.  Or maybe I will discipline her at 8 PM.  But in any case it will
not be now.  Now it is Candy's turn.  And then Elizabeth's turn.  I will let
Patty know that her time has not yet come.  "Well girl, you probably have that
seat comfortably warm from the heat of your body.  Time to let it cool.  Stand
up, we have Mrs. Butz, my new teacher to deal with.  And then Elizabeth
Robinson, your new student to deal with."  Patty's fulsome sigh of relief was
audible.

Next, I needed to orient Patty as to the magnitude and order of the tasks ahead
of us.  "We need to prioritize what we need to do" I began.  "In general, before
we apply the whip, the skin needs to be prepared.  We also need to remember that
when using the whip we are bound by the biblical injunction to strike no more
than two score less one blows in a day.  Now, in the case of Mrs. Butz we are
free and clear.  Although we have thoroughly spanked her behind, she has not yet
today been stuck with the whip.  In Elizabeth's case, we have already given her
six strokes with the whip to her nether regions.  Therefore, prior to midnight
we should give her no more than thirty-three blows of the whip.  Lastly, in the
case of Mrs. Robinson, since she has already received twenty-four strikes of the
whip, this August 1st, we can give her no more than fifteen with the whip. 
Therefore we have, for Candy, thirty nine lashes to dispense; for Beth, thirty
three lashes, and for Anne, fifteen lashes.  Now, to be perfectly honest, all of
these reckonings exclude the strap and the switch.  But still, they impel us to
plan ahead.

Patty had to admit that she had never been impelled to calculate punishments a
forehand.  So she and I sat down and parcelled out the punishment session in
advance.  What were the sites available for punishment.  What could be spanked. 
How many strokes of the whip were available.  What about the switch and the rod. 
Patty was amazed about what had to be thought out in advance.

Finally, we, the two of us, took to our tasks.  The first thing we did was to
remove the hood and hoist Candy to full attention.  For the last three hours she
had merely been standing with her arms loosely suspended over her head and her
feet firmly (or as firmly as can be encompassed in high heels) on the ground. 
Using the remote control we tightened up the lines attached to her arms. 
Eventually, this had the effect of lifting her up until she stood on tip-toes. 
This is a position that can only be maintained for just so long before
excruciating cramps started to torture first the calves and then the thighs. 
This was part of the plan.  It also displayed her magnificent breasts, thrust
out and begging for chastisement.  At this point Patty and I discussed our next
moves.  I noted "We are bound by the rules to inflict no more than 39 strokes of
the whip in a day.  In the case of Candy, although she has been prepared by the
application of the strap, she has not yet felt the whip.  Therefore in the next
six hours, we may chastise her with the full complement of 36 lashes.  But first
we shall prepare her breasts for a whipping by application of the spanking crop. 
You will see how well suited it is for bruising the breasts and making the
nipples swell."  Patty was paying appropriate attention.  Candy was attentive
but did not appear to be fascinated.  Horrified, yes!  Fascinated no!  "You will
get your opportunity to practice your whipping skills on Miss Robinson.  Because
she is only 15 years old, we will not prepare her breasts for the whip by
spanking them. So first we will whip tit, then we will flog ass, and lastly we
will whip pussy." 

Candice Butz
6:15 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Looks Bad for Me

Shit!  I have had from three o'clock to six o'clock to recover.  About all that
this has given me are two realizations.  First, these folks have planned things
out to three decimal places.  Two, they are a ruthless bunch of sadists. 
Conclusion, short term it looks bad for me.  If I am going to come out ahead in
the long run, I have to grit my teeth, ride out the short run, and play the game
in the long run.  Right now, the Dark Lady is in charge.  She is developing her
mignon, the brainless Patty.  I have to work to develop a relationship with the
Rev. Payne.  Meantime I have to survive the designs of the Dark Lady.  It is
merely a matter of reverting back to the thought patterns of a decade and a half
ago.  First survive.  No matter how painful.

Surviving is easier said than done when your boss is approaching you with a
riding crop that culminates in a six inch long, one inch wide piece of leather
with which she is going to beat your tits to a black and blue mess.  And that is
the preliminary. Later she is going to whip your breasts until your nipples
bleed.  Marvelous!  I hope to get though this without an excessive loss of
blood.  I wish I was a decade younger.  Then, I had the resiliency of youth, and
the stupidity.

Her and her stupid punishment litany.  Yada, yada, yada!  OK you are going to
hit me twenty times.  Ten on each breast.  And you are going to hit me with a
riding crop modified to carry, on its end, a strap.  SHIT!  First three blows on
the tops of each breast.  Oh GOD does that hurt.  I have learned to make a lot
of noise.  That gratifies them.    Fortunately, the Dark Lady has stuffed
between my teeth a piece of rawhide.  Apparently she does not want me to break
teeth by clenching my jaws each time I am struck.  Fine.  I will scream as best
I can around the leather.  Oh Shit That Hurts.  Screaming seems to make them
happy.  So each time my breasts are hit I will make them happy.  Oh Shit.  No
need to play control games.  Just try to minimize the pain.  Oh Shit!  Some day
I will get back at that bitch and her little dog Patty.  OH SHIT!

OK, fourteen left.  Now it looks like six on the undersides of my boobs.  She
has Patty stand in back of me and grab my nipples in her finger, and lift my
boobs up so that she can get a better whap on the lower portions of my boobs. 
SHIT! that hurt.  Someday I will get my licks in on Patty.  She doesn't have to
squeeze my nipples that hard.  SHIT!  Why do you have to beat every part of my
breasts.  SHIT!  I will someday get back at you.  SHIT!  I scream meaningless
obscenities at them.  That means that they will believe that they are really
hurting me.  Well they are.  SHIT!  You really hurt me that time.  SHIT, OK now
move on to something else.  You have given me eight, I realize that I have
twelve more coming.

OK Dark Lady you are winding up you back hand.  I'll bet that means you are
going to hit the sides of my breasts now.  OOHHH!  Hey you only have eleven
left.  AAUUGH! Only ten left.  AUUGH! Nine left.  I don't know how much of this
I can take.  OOHH!  Eight left.  You have now hit each boob twice, once from the
left and once from the right.  AAUUGGHH!  Seven left.  I'll bet that watching
them bounce and jiggle and ripple really turns you on.  OHH! six more to go. 
AUUGFH! Coming back from the other side, five.  OH! OH! OH! Bitch, someday I
will get back at you. Three! OH! Come on Dark Lady, do your worst. OHH! Two more
blows. SSHHITT! ONE MORE!  AARRGGHH THE LAST ONE.  SCREAM AS LOUD AS YOU CAN
LADY!!

What I cannot understand, and what worries me, is that the Dark Lady failed to
hit my nipples.  I don't believe that this is because she doesn't know what
nipples are or where they are located.  I suspect that she has some other plans
in mind.  I heard them discussing the limitations on the punishment they could
inflict.  No more than 39 lashes of the whip.  In my case this is bad since they
have yet to hit me once with the whip.  Mrs. Robinson's daughter over there
already has six.  Therefore she can get no more than thirty-three with the whip. 
And, of course, Mrs. Robinson herself, having already received twenty-four, can
get no more than fifteen of the whip.  Whoop-de-doo! 


Elsbeth Strikt, Ph.D.
6:30 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Nipples Next

"Now Patty observe closely.  We have nicely spanked the skin of Candy's breasts
but have left her nipples alone.  This is because I have saved them for special
treatment.  Put the strapping crop back and fetch me the other, more
conventional riding crop."  My naked assistant bid as she was told.  I now took
the remote control and activating the electrical winches raised Mrs. Butz just
that little bit higher until just the tips of her toes were touching the floor. 
When Patty handed me the crop I explained, "I want to hit just the nipple with
the very tip of the crop.  This means that Mrs. Butz must hold very still.  We
are, after all, talking about tolerances of a half inch or less.  If she is just
on the verge of total suspension, it will require all of her effort to keep her
toes on the ground.  She has no leeway to wiggle without losing her tenuous
hold."

I measured out, carefully, the distance between Candy's nipple and the length of
the crop and my outstretched arm.  After a couple of adjustments and practice
swings I pronounced her punishment.  Half a dozen on each nipple.  Then I wound
up and swung.  Mrs. Butz literally exploded and danced on air.  She scissored
her legs and actually pulled herself up by her arms while screaming at the top
of her lungs.  It must have been close to a minute before she regained her toes. 
Her face and neck were flushed red with the exertion.  Then I struck the left
nipple eliciting a similar response, although she regained her toehold a little
sooner.  As soon as her struggles ceased I hit the right nipple a second time. 
She was tiring more rapidly now.  A second strike on her left nipple brought the
total to four.  She was panting and moaning.  Both nipples were now rapidly
swelling.  This time Candy was unable to get back up on her toes and just hung
there limply.  I quickly finished the next eight strokes of the crop completing
my tasks just as she fainted.  Her nipples were swollen to almost four times
their normal size and had the color of spoiled hamburger. 

As I lowered Candy down Patty remarked on how severe Candy's reaction was.  I
explained that this particular type of beating is probably the most painful
punishment a woman will ever endure.  "The pain is exceptionally intense, almost
like an electrical shock in its nature but far more intense.  I don't think that
anybody can endure more than twelve of those hits.  I have often seen women
faint after four and I myself usually faint at ten.  But many women are sexually
aroused as well."  Perhaps I shouldn't have said that because Patty got an
exceedingly shocked expression on her face.  I am not sure that she realizes
that I myself undergo periodic extreme chastisements.  To distract her I told
her to inspect Mrs. Butz's genitals to see if the nipple treatment had induced
secretions.  Sure enough, she was dripping.  I further instructed Patty "Candy
probably never even realized that this extreme stimulation of her nipples
triggered a genital reflex.  Her mind was probably overwhelmed by the pain in
her breasts combined with the pain of her suspension and the cramping of her
calf and thigh muscles."


Elsbeth Strikt, Ph.D.
6:45 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Beating Betty's Breasts

Patty and I carried the unconscious Mrs. Butz over to the horse and positioned
her there, securely fastening the restraints.  Then I gave Patty her charge,
Elizabeth.  "Now since Elizabeth is only fifteen you will have to go easier. 
Her breasts are no where as large as Candy's.  Let us figure ten strokes with
the strapping crop and four on the nipples with the riding crop".  Elizabeth had
been paying careful attention to what had been occurring on the opposite side of
the room from where she was standing with her arms restrained over her head. 
She was not gagged and when I mentioned the numbers she starting crying and
pleading for mercy.  I said to Elizabeth as I hoisted her up by activating the
remote "Scream all you want.  The delicate ears of Rev. Payne are no longer
here.  This room is very effectively sound insulated so that no one outside of
this room can hear you.  And to tell you the truth, your screaming is music to
my ears."

Patty went about it with a will and soon Elizabeth had screamed herself hoarse. 
And although her breasts were smaller than Candy's, her nipples and areolae were
large.  I had figured Elizabeth's tolerance to pain out pretty well and Patty
had a nice slow pace.  She used the strapping crop to good effect, resolutely
laying the strap portion across the upper portion of Elizabeth's breast with
each stroke.  The first two strokes went right across the middle.  The third and
fourth went just below the first two and just above the areola.  The fifth and
sixth went above the first and second.  These six strokes, three on each breast,
magically transformed the white skin, protected against the tanning effect of
the sun by the young girls bikini, instantly red.  At this point Patty paused to
inspect her handiwork and watched as the red areas developed wheals.  Betty
would have bruises that would last for weeks.  I don't think that the young lady
was as concerned with potential bruises as she was about the acute pain.  Every
blow from Patty's crop had elicited a screaming curse.  The girl was now panting
and her chest was covered with fine beads of sweat.  Her pupils were widely
dilated and her eyes had a crazed looked.

I next suggested to Patty that the final four blows with the strap crop be
directed to the undersides of Elizabeth's breasts.  These mammary glands were
not large and the girl was young enough so that there was no sagging and her
suspension bondage meant that the breasts were stretched tightly over her chest
by her taughtly uplifted arms.  This combination of factors meant that Betty's
lower breasts presented a target that could not be ignored.  Patty did her best,
standing to Betty's right and delivering a blow to the underside of the first
the right and then the left breast.  Then moving over to Betty's left and
delivering blows to Betty's right and left breasts.  This punishment left the
young girl screaming insanely. 

Elizabeth was nearing the end of her endurance, the girl could not take much
more pain before passing out.  Patty gave her a rest as she exchanged her
strapping crop for a regular riding crop.  However, Elizabeth was still pretty
dazed when Patty resumed her beating.  Four blows to the nipples brought Betty
to the brink of unconsciousness, but not over.  The young woman didn't even
respond to the torture of her nipples by screaming, she only moaned with each
blow.  It would be some time before we could inflict pain on her again.  I
lowered her down until her feet were solidly on the floor and gave her a little
slack for her arms.  As her arms were released from the tension they started to
shake and the young lady's knees were knocking.  Patty held her up for a minute
or two until Elizabeth became steady enough to stand on her own.  None-the-less
her eyes remained glazed and unfocused.  Her breasts certainly responded
beautifully to the beating.  The skin was a nice deep red-purple and the nipples
were absolutely tense with swelling.  It would be a week before she wore a bra
again.  Any further abuse with either the switch or a whip would probably tear
the skin right open.  I will let her father decide whether her breasts need to
be further punished.

As usual after inflicting and witnessing sufficient torments to drive women out
of their senses, I was intensely aroused.  It was almost five hours since I had
my release and over those five hours I had become progressively more stimulated
first by the violent pussy whipping of Anne Robinson and then by the rape of her
and her daughter by the security guards and finally by the breast beatings. 
Should I take this opportunity to masturbate and have Patty eat me?  Or should I
wait until just before nine o'clock and make Candy and Elizabeth, both of whom
should be quite thoroughly broken by then, eat me and suck my tits?  I think
that I can make it until nine.  Maybe I will even rape one or both of them with
the strap-on dildo.  I always find that a strap-on rape gives me truly superior
orgasms.  Well, I think that in any case it's time for Patty to once again
awaken Mrs. Butz with a little ammonia up the nose.


Ms. Elizabeth Robinson
6:55 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Unpleasant Reality

Yeah.  This is no drug induced dream or hallucination. This is reality.  There
is too much pain for this to be a product of my imagination.  Try to deny it as
I will, there are some supremely evil people out there.  And they are inflicting
some really severe pain on my body.  They seem to enjoy beating me.  As the
conscious portion of my mind withdraws deeper and deeper from the pain the
realization grows that I hate these people.  And someday I will have my revenge
on them.  In the meantime I must focus all my efforts on surviving the pain.  I
must not set them off any further.  They can control my behavior because of
their ability to make me hurt.  I will do anything they want.  I want to avoid
pain.  I have never felt pain like this before in my life.  Nobody among all the
people I know can even imagine pain like this.  If need be I will be their
slave.  But I hate them.  I will someday get even.  My hate will grow.  Oh! Damn
it, the pain is bad.  I hate them. 

Candy Among the Christians

Download 9.
Download Title, "Candy & Betty & Patty & Annie, Oh My!"

Candice Butz
7:00 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Ass Whuppin'

Oh I hate when they put that ammonia-soaked Q Tip up your nose.  It feels like
your brain has been partially removed, a dozen ball bearings thrown into your
skull, and your head then put into an electrical paint shaker.  One of these
times when I regain consciousness, it won't be in this damned Treatment Room. 
Well, at least I am back over the horse and not strung up any more.  That bitch
really knows what she is doing.  I could have taken any number of things singly
but the combination is unbearable.  When you have been standing in high heels in
one spot for a couple of hours and you are then forced to stand on tip toe, you
get the most amazing charlie horses in first your calves and then your thighs. 
Plus having your arms stretched tight over your head cause pain in your wrists
despite the industrial wrist straps.  This pain eventually extends to your
shoulders.  The partial suspension also makes it progressively harder to
breathe.  I got a tiny bit of a glimpse of what crucifixion must have been like. 
You know, I'll bet that Dr. Strikt would have fit in real well in Imperial Rome. 
When you then throw in on top of this chronic muscle and joint pain, and a
little asphyxia, the most excruciating acute pain from the titty torture that
the Bitch seems to like so much, it sends right into another world.  Hell
specifically.  Looking over across the room to where Betty Robinson stands with
her arms strung up, it looks like the Dark Lady or her little dog Patty have
done a similar job on her knockers.  OK.  The major thing is to survive.  As the
night goes on I am becoming more and more aware that they are out to break me. 
OK If they want a sniveling dog that will lick their shoes, I can lick shoes. 
But just let me get my edge and some people will pay.

Well, it looks like the Dark Lady is ready to start working on me again.  I
think she is about to give another lecture demonstration in the biology of pain
to Patty.  And I am the animal to be vivisected in the demonstration part.  Here
she goes "Patty, you have been the recipient of a major whipping once in your
life.  I am sure you vividly remember your 'wedding whipping'.  Patty responded
"Oh yes Dr. Strikt!  On my wedding night, nearly a month later, my bottom was
still a little sore."  "Well" the Dark Lady continued, "This one will be just as
severe although it will differ in many details.  This time the skin has been
prepared with the strap and is nicely bruised and exquisitely tender.  If a
heavily knotted whip is used, the skin will be badly torn after about a dozen
lashes.   Yet experience shows that little additional pain would be gained. 
Therefore we will employ a whip with only a single knot at the end of each cord.
This will promote the end of the tail curling around but will not excessively
tear the skin.  Also draping the penitent over the horse helps to prevent them
from fainting too soon. This way we should be able to inflict about two dozen or
more lashes before Candy passes out."  Whuppy Shit! I thought.  I'm glad they
are so considerate.  Twenty some lashes until I lose consciousness but they are
taking care not to flail all the skin off by backside.  OH SHIT!

I have to admit that the Dark Lady started out slow and gentle.  Or as gentle as
it gets when somebody starts beating you with a four tailed whip on an ass that
already looks like tenderized steak.  Oh that hurt.  It felt like she was
actually stripping the skin off.  And with my legs spread wide, every blow was
curling around to either strike my inner thighs, outer hips or pussy.  I have
learned to scream my head off every time I get hit.  I think it increases Dr.
Strikt's pleasure.  But after a dozen blows she started laying them on harder. 
At that point, I was gasping for breath and getting very hoarse.  My screams
were degenerating into grunts and moans and wheezes.  As we got closer to 20, I
started retching but nothing would come up.  I got dizzy, and believe it or not,
I stopped feeling pain.  I really don't remember passing out. 

Patty Pine
7:15 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Watching Candy's Whipping

My nerves came pretty close to shattering during Candy's whipping.  I was hungry
enough that I started getting light-headed.  Her animal screaming was unnerving
me and I started getting queasy when she started retching.  At twenty lashes her
butt started to bleed but Dr. Strikt didn't stop so that I could staunch the
cuts with some vinegar brine.  The blood started splattering and I got sprayed
with some of the droplets.  I almost lost it at that point.  The blood drops on
my breasts and stomach made me a bit sick.  Candy's backside looked real bad
with dozens of cuts.  She was shaking all over and I have to admit that I was
holding my hands together to keep them from visibly shaking.  And my knees were
tight together to keep them from knocking.  And I had to pee real bad.  You have
no idea how happy I was when Candy finally passed out.  I think that Dr. Strikt
finally stopped at thirty.  Poor Candy didn't even flinch when I swabbed her
butt, she was that far into unconsciousness.  I actually felt sorry for her.  I
asked Dr. Strikt if I could go to the bathroom but she denied me.  She said it
was part of my training.  Dear Lord I am hungry.

Ms. Elizabeth Robinson
7:20 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Reality Is A Whipped Ass

I just witnessed the ass whipping of a lady, who I will call the "Blonde Lady". 
This is important.  Earlier I watched as they beat the breasts of this lady. 
They beat her boobies very badly.  Then these people came over and beat my
breasts.  Now they just finished beating the "Blonde Lady's" ass with a whip
made from extension cords.  With knots in the wires.  They beat her until she
passed out.  Toward the end of the whipping the whip was cutting the skin of the
"Blonde Lady's" behind.  She was bleeding.  And still they kept hitting her with
the whip.  The whip got covered with blood.  The blood got splashed all over the
room.  Still they kept hitting her.  She fainted.

What worries me is that once they have done something to the "Blonde Lady", they
then come over and do it to me.  They have me strung up.  They have fastened
leather cuffs to my wrists and then attacked ropes to my wrists.  They have
hoisted me up by my wrists.  This is how they hoisted me up when they beat my
breasts.  I can look down and see my breasts.  They are all red and swollen and
hurt like hell.  You know what.  I bet that next they are going to beat my ass
with their whips just like they beat the "Blonde Lady's" ass.  I don't know who
the "Blonde Lady" is, but they are punishing her just like they are punishing
me.  I don't know what they are punishing her for.  But then I am not sure why
they are punishing me.  I mean that there are lots of things that I have done
that they are probably punishing me for, but I don't know which of these they
are punishing me for.

The "Blonde Lady" has fainted.  They, the two of them, the Dark Lady and her
young, naked, red-haired assistant are talking.  I really hope that they are not
talking about me.  I am afraid that the next thing they will do is hurt me. 
Just like they hurt the "Blonde Lady".  Oh dear God, please don't let them hurt
me more.  I don't know who the "Blonde Lady" is, but I bet that she is my
friend.  Oh dear God, please don't let them beat me any more.
 
Patty Pine
7:30 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Elizabeth's Whipping

Now it was my turn to get to work.  She had me clean off the whip with alcohol
and clean up the spattered blood droplets.  Then she had me go and get a really
nasty whip to use on Elizabeth.  A five tailed, thirty incher with five knots on
every strand.  I also swear it was made from a heavier lamp cord.  This was
about the nastiest whip I have ever seen.  Earlier, Betty had been watching what
we were doing to Candy more and more intently.  I suspect that she didn't get a
super view because the horse on which Candy was bound was so positioned that the
wrist-suspended Elizabeth saw only Candy's head and shoulders rather than her
backside.  She reacted more vigorously when the blood started splattering.  She
must figure she is next and Betty must now know that she is in for some heavy
punishment.  She was crying and shaking as we walked up to her.  Dr. Strikt used
the remote to hoist her up onto her tippy toes. 

The Dark Lady told Beth she was going to receive twenty lashes and she told me
to deliver the blows at one minute intervals.  So each time the second hand on
the clock on the wall got to the top the agony would be renewed.  Hew! The
waiting was hard on both me and Elizabeth.  She had to crane her neck really
hard to see the clock.  As she did that you could see the terror in her eyes. 
As I waited all I could think about was how my bladder was killing me. You have
no idea how long a minute can be.  Elizabeth's ass had also been tenderized
previously so I made a big effort to spread the strokes out over as much of the
un-bruised portions of the posterior of her body as I could.  She was only 15
and I didn't want to cut her up badly.  She started screaming right with the
first blow and didn't stop until twenty.  I was surprised she never passed out
and I was skillful enough with the whip that she had very few cuts when I was
finished.  But boy-oh-boy from the middle of her thighs to just below her
breasts every single square inch of her body was covered with welts.  Purple
bruises were starting to form wherever the knots hit.  And despite my efforts
there were perhaps a dozen tears in the skin on her ass where she had been
beaten with the strap and then lashed with the whip.  About half of these had
trickles of blood running down whereas the other half just oozed.  Dr. Strikt
lowered her down off her tip toes but not enough to slack off her arms.    I
cleaned up Elizabeth's wounds with the vinegar brine which caused a resumption
in the screams.  Then I wiped off the whip with rubbing alcohol and cleaned up
the few drops of blood that had fallen on the white tile floor. Then finally the
Dark Lady let me sit down.  But not pee.  And damn I am hungry


Mrs. Anne Robinson
8:00 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
The Receptionist, Continued

Here I sit.  Crying.  I have cum smeared all over my face.  They took my corset
off and bit my nipples and ejaculated on my breasts.  All I am wearing is my
pink jacket and I hose and heels.  My crotch is saturated with semen and my
pussy is ripped to shreds and bleeding.  My hair is a mess and all that is left
of my make-up is smeared with cum.  But they were nice guys.  They gave me a
beer when they left.  I finish it off and lay my head down on the desk and sob.

Then a white Dodge minivan pulls up. Five more guys, totally drunk fall out. 
They bang on the door.  "Open up lady, we're from the Freeport plant.  Hey let
us in.  Ready for a good time."

FUCK!

Elsbeth Strikt, Ph.D.
8:10 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Patty Time

"OK Patty.  Its your turn now.  Go over to the cabinet and get a set of wrist
restraints".  Patty instead knelt down at my feet, grasped me about the legs and
sobbed.  "Please, please, Dr. Strikt, please don't beat me.  I can't take any
more."  It was obvious her nerves were shot.  Good.  I assisted her up to her
entire height of 5'2" and walked her over to the cabinet.  I sat her down on the
metal folding chair and fastened a set of wrist restraints.  Then I took her
over to the unoccupied set of suspension bonds and buckled her arms up.  All
this time she was sobbing, now incoherently.  I decided to go a little easier on
her and did not winch her up on tip toes.  Then I went and got the single knot,
four strand whip.  I informed her I will give her about two dozen.  A dozen on
the back, six across the breasts and six across the loins.  Enough to hurt her
but not enough to incapacitate her.  I have needs for her to fulfill.  
 

Patty Pine
8:15 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Anticipation is Over

Shit!  For a whole twenty-four hours I have been living in dread of this.  I
just knew that the Dark Lady was going to whip me.  I know just how much she
enjoys whipping women.  She just glories in it.  She prides herself on how much
pain she can inflict.  Deep down inside I really hate her.  I have been living
in fear of her, hoping that if I am good, she will not hurt me.  Well, I have
been as good as I can be and still she will hurt me.  She beat my backside
yesterday, not as much for the pain as for the anticipatory fear it would give
me of what was to follow.  And to bruise my butt so that when the whip strikes
the sting will be so much more painful.  I know she will take particular delight
in hitting my nice full breasts since she is so flat chested.  Someday I will
get a chance to pay her back for the pain that she has given to me.


Candice Butz
8:20 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Patty Gets Hers

I started coming around when Patty was whipping Beth.  Nothing like waking up to
shrill screams.  But I was groggy.  By the time my head was clearing I was
hearing Patty sobbing like a child.  Funny how your hearing works before your
eyes will focus.  OK, the Dark Lady has Patty strung up over there where they
beat my breasts.  Looks like it's her turn in the barrel.  The Dark Lady starts
stroking Patty's head and whispering in her ear.  Looks like she is kissing her
on the lips.   Now she is rubbing Patty's pubes, caressing her breasts, now she
is sucking her nipples.  Sure looks to me like Dr. Strikt swings at least two
ways.  Now she finally gets around to hitting Patty.  Zap right on the ass with
the full force of that whip.  You should see Patty jump.  She just pulled
herself at least two feet with her arms and brought her knees up to her chest. 
Wow! That's athletic!  But you can't hold yourself up like that for long.  Now
she is peeing!  Look at that urine stream out.  Now she is lowering herself down
and dropping her legs while continuing to pee.  She must have had a real full
bladder.  She hasn't screamed yet although she did let out a yelp there.  Now
the second blow of the corded whip, right across the thighs.  Patty does another
jump but not quite as high this time.  And again a little yelp.  Dr. Strikt goes
up to her again and strokes her breast and kisses her.  Now the Dark Lady hits
her right across the tits.  OOOHH! Wicked.  Patty tries to back away but can't. 
Now a fourth, right across the front of the hips and the mons.  More piss!  The
Dark Lady catches some of it in her cupped left hand and rubs it on Patty's
face.  Kinky!  Well it looks like she is going to go back to working Patty's
back.  Yep.  The fifth stoke is high on the ass.  The sixth is right straight
across the globes of the buttocks.  The seventh is the lower swell of the curve. 
That one elicited a scream.  And oh does the Dark Lady lay them on slow.  I can
see droplets of blood starting to bead along the whip wheals forming on her ass
which is already red and purple, black and blue from an earlier beating.   Now
it looks like the Dark Lady is sticking her index finger up Patty's ass.  Yup
that's what it looks like.  Now she is taking the same finger and sticking it up
Patty's nose.  Real kinky.  Number eight goes across the breasts from the
opposite side as the earlier one.  Now Dr. Strikt is sucking Patty's nipples
while fingering her pussy.  Patty is really horror struck.  Numbers nine and ten
go across the front of her loins first from the one side and then the other with
the tails aimed right at Patty's slit.  Now the Dark Lady is fingering Patty's
pussy again, really taking her time and making it slow.

I have to admit in my years in the sexually-oriented business world (as the
politically correct put it) I never saw anything like this, either as a dancer
or a hooker.  I could make good money by putting this on the stage but I am
afraid I would be shut down in quick order by the TABC.  I would have to forgo
serving liquor and run a "dry" cabaret like Dimitri does down in Galveston. 
Well, it looks like having brought the redhead to the brink of orgasm, Dr.
Strikt will start beating her again, striking her back for numbers eleven
through fourteen.  Now some more finger up the ass action.  And Dr. Strikt
sticks it up Patty's other nostril.  Now a real hot French kiss while stroking
the pussy.  Fifteen is an impossible shot, snapping the very end of the whip
upwards into Patty's pussy.  This elicits the biggest reaction from Patty to
date.  She again hauls herself up by her arms and flails her legs wildly and
screaming up a blue streak.  She is virtually trying to climb up the ropes. 
While she is up in the air the Dark Lady lands two more with impressive power on
the pussy striking from below.  Boy that lady knows some real whipping tricks. 
Problem is, when you are on the receiving end you are too dazed by the pain to
appreciate the artistry.  Patty has settled down and is just crying and
pleading.  Number eighteen should be coming any time now.  Ah but first a bit
more kissing and massaging of breasts.  I can make a bet where the next two will
land.  Yup, eighteen is across the chest with the knots hitting in and around
the nipple of the far breast.  Nineteen is the mirror image blow with the knots
hitting the nipple of the other breast.  Oh that must hurt.  Patty must agree as
she gives one of her finer screams of the evening.  Dr. Stikt stifles it by
putting her mouth over Patty's.  And then kissing her ear.  Now she bites one
nipple.  Candy just lays her head back and howls.  Now she bites the other
nipple.  More howls.  A little tiny bit of blood begins to drip off of each
nipple.  Wow!  I don't feel so bad.  I guess I haven't gotten this complete a
treatment from Dr. Strikt!

Now is finish to the show.  I heard Dr. Strikt say twenty four to Patty in the
beginning.  Something like twelve, six and six.  So five more to go.  Around to
the back.  Four lashes of the whip, alternating sides, buttocks and thighs.  Boy
that lady likes to work slow.  I think she adores the sight of blood dripping
down a woman's ass.  Ahh!  Time for another kissing and pussy fingering session. 
Now she makes Patty lick the sticky fingers.  Now breast kissing time.  And a
couple of more nipple bites.  Now more kissing and fingering.  She must be
telling Patty to spread her legs with her knees bent.  No easy trick when your
hanging by your wrists and supporting yourself on tipped toes.  The Dark Lady
walks around to the back.  I can hear "Wider, Patty".  This girl now has her
feet totally off the ground supported only by her wrists.  Here comes the blow,
from below, from behind, right with the knots on the pussy.  Whoa Nelly!  Patty
hauls her self up by her arms once again with her legs snapping shut and the
best howl of the night.  I would pay good money to see this on the stage!  I
feel like shouting bravo!  As Patty lowers herself down, the Dark Lady goes back
around for a final kissing and fingering.  What a show.  I myself am getting
turned on and I normally swing only one way.  About the only thing I haven't
seen yet is the giant dildo!  The Dark Lady is one sick chick.  I have done a
lot of things in my life that I was not proud of.  I did them in order to
survive.  She does bizarre things for enjoyment.

Candy Among the Christians

Download 10.
Download Title, "Diverse, Perverse Works"


Elsbeth Strikt, Ph.D.
8:35 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Play Time!

Patty thought she was strong.  She took her "wedding whipping" with hardly a
whimper.  Tonight I demonstrated true darkness to her.  When it is obvious that
a disciplinee will ride out a discipline by concentration and clearing their
mind, they are most easily broken by distraction.  She had her mind set, I unset
it by blowing it up.  She had never been aroused by a woman before.  I began by
explaining to her that I was going to open up a side of her that had never been
visible before.  I was going to introduce her to the connections between sex and
pain.  At first she didn't understand.  But as I repeated the cycles of arousal
and punishment she began to comprehend.  I really don't know if she got an
orgasm at the end.  She was red in the face and quivering and covered in sweat
after the last blow to the genitals but I doubt she had an orgasm.  I know I
almost did.  But that will come.

When I unclipped her wrists from the suspension bonds she was trembling in my
hands and I held her closely.  She was just the least little bit shaky on her
feet as I guided her over to the GYN table and sat her down on the end.  She
just sat there dazed.  I then removed my clothing.  Or at least my high-necked,
frilly fronted white blouse, long dark skirt, and full slip.  I never wear a bra
for the obvious reason that I don't have "Shit for Tit" as the girls say.  On
heavy punishment days like this I don't wear panties.  So after removing my slip
I was clad only in my garter belt, dark hose and shoes.  As I stood essentially
naked in front of my audience of Candy, Elizabeth and Patty the result of some
recent adventures became obvious, my nipples were badly bruised as were my
clitoris and labia.  But that is another story.  Both Candy and Elizabeth had
recovered by now and gaped openly.  Patty, having serviced me almost six hours
ago, already knew me.  In any case, she was still a bit dazed.

Elsbeth Strikt, Ph.D.
8:40 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Strapon Sex

I walked over to the cabinets where the implements were stored and got out one
that unfortunately gets very little use.  It was a strap on double dildo.  One
end inserted into my vagina and had special silicone ridges to stimulate the
clitoris and labia minora.  My dildo portion was custom made to stimulate my G
spot.  The other end of the implement was massive, almost the size of our
Haitians, made of a very hard rubber, and studded with over three dozen nasty
bumps.  The apparatus, like all strapons fit to my crotch and fastened around
the waist like a belt.  Both Candy and the girl stared at the contraption with
amazement.  But they would see it in action before they got a chance to feel it. 
I went over to Patty and told her to put her feet into the stirrups and her
hands behind her head.  I instructed her that restraint should not be necessary
but that I would not hesitate to put her back into bondage and that would be
accompanied by a pussy whipping that would leave her genitals bleeding for a
week.  She knows me to be a woman of my word and complied with my instructions. 
Then I fucked her.

What actually happened was I impaled the gigantic dildo in her vagina and then
masturbated myself to a frenzy working my vagina, labia and clitoris to an
slimy, mushy, engorged climax.  I loved it and came quickly having been in a
gradually rising sexual tension for several hours.  Patty didn't seemed moved by
having a large piece of rubber stuck into her cunt.  Also I was squeezing her
bruised breasts and bleeding nipples vigorously.  I think that her introduction
to lesbian sex has left her unimpressed.  Her loss, too bad.

Ms. Elizabeth Robinson
8:45 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Another View of Reality

I am beginning to realize that I am not in some sort of a drug-induced dream. 
Two things convinced me that this is not a nightmare.  First is the pain.  In a
dream you don't experience pain like this.  What the red-headed woman did to me
with that whip was so intense that it couldn't be a dream.  There was nothing
hazy about it.  It was clear and sharp.  The most intense thing I have ever
experienced in my life was when the woman, I think her name is Patty, sponged
the wounds on my butt with that rag.  I could never have imagined that kind of
pain.  The second thing I couldn't have dreamed up was all the lesbian shit they
are doing.  The Dark Lady just didn't whip Patty, she did all kinds of things I
have never heard of women doing to women.  I just could never conceive of that
stuff.  And when the Dark Lady strapped this rubber penis on and like fucked the
red-head.  Weird.  At first I thought I was dreaming this up while
semi-conscious after the whipping they gave me.  You know, groggy.  But as I
came around and things got clearer, so did the scene.  I couldn't believe it, a
woman fucking another woman, missionary position and everything.  Except the
Dark Lady doesn't have any tits.  I mean fucking none.  I have seen twelve year
old girls with more in the way of boobs.  Down below she is normal enough, just
no tit.

I cannot exclude that I am in Hell.  I always thought of it as being all red and
dim.  Not like this place which is all white and brightly lit.  Besides I never
believed in Hell, although my Dad and Babs do.  I am like my mom.  I don't
believe in God and without God who needs the Devil.  Although I got to admit
that several times today I called out to God to rescue me from here.  If there
is a God and a Devil than the Dark Lady is very close to Satan.  Dear God,
please release me from here and I will never doubt you again.  These people are
evil incarnate.


Elsbeth Strikt, Ph.D.
8:50 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
More Strapon Sex

Next I went over to Candy, bound to the horse with her legs spread and her ass
waving in the air.  What would I do with this former whore?  Not the obvious
place.  Beside the Rev. Payne had specifically said that although I could bloody
her genitals I was not to rip up her vagina.  OK there is always the brown
shitty highway.  So up her ass the dildo went, no lubrication, no preparatory
stretching, just raw.  If I thought I had heard he scream earlier it was nothing
compared to now.  She hit high notes that you never heard at the HGO.  I am
afraid I tore her anal ring a little, actually a lot, but we can always get one
of our board members who is an excellent surgeon to come in and do a little
suturing.  Having just obtained my sexual release with Patty, it took a lot
longer to achieve climax with Candy.  I stroked her nipples while grinding my
genitals and vagina into my side of the strap-on.  I even took my left hand and
started to manipulate her clitoris and labia.  But she remained steadfastly dry
and un-aroused.  So I started to pinch her sore and bruised feminine parts with
my fingernails.  Candy remained stodgily unresponsive but it certainly aroused
me.  After what seemed an eternity I finally had my orgasm.  Withdrawing the
massive, studded dildo from her ass triggered another screaming session.  My
that lady has a tough set of vocal cords.  I then released her from her bondage
and instructed a now much recovered Patty to release Elizabeth from her bondage. 
Candy stood there with her hand holding her asshole and cried like a baby.

Next I removed my strap-on.  I went over to the gynecological examining table,
laid down, and put my feet up in the stirrups.  I summoned my three ladies.  I
explained to them that for their next tricks they were to offer me further
sexual service.  Any failures on their parts to meet my expectations - I leave
it up to their imaginations.  Patty and Elizabeth were to suckle my nipples. 
Candy was to eat my pussy.  I figured that of the three Candy was most likely to
know how to perform expert cunnilingus. And the younger women, well, how much
talent does it take to lick nipples?  Beside, Candy appears to have absolutely
no lesbian tendencies so it will be most humiliating to make her eat pussy.  And
so it went.  Each applying themselves to the task at hand, or at lip and tongue. 
I was concerned that Candy was not performing optimally.  I explained to her
some of the adventures I might plan for her.  I reminded her of her former
status as a professional laborer in the sex industry.  I explained I expected
great things of her.  She worked harder.  After an obscenely long time I
climaxed.  I was wasted, I was drained.  I was tired.  I told my mignons that
they could make use of the toilet facilities, I dressed and sat down, slumped
against the wall to await the return of the Rev. Payne and the rest of the
Robinsons.


Candy Butz
9:00 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
The Lesbian Sex Goddess

Well, some things are beginning to make more and more sense.  Dr. Strikt is
probably authentically nuts.  Nuts even by my standards.  But as they used to
say, she runs the asylum and therefore is the right person in the right place at
the right time.  She is a titless lesbian sadistic sex maniac.  She is the
perfect devil with which to terrorize this little Salem.  Satan to keep the
Pilgrims on the straight and narrow.  And she does whatever Rev. Max Payne tells
her to do, and he lets her be the predator on this little flock.  Whew!

Well I have a few tricks up my sleeve.  One, I know how to relax.  She probably
thought she was ripping me a new asshole with that strapon dildo.  Well I know
how to relax muscles as well as to clench them and relax my anal sphincter I
did.  If I didn't have my experience as a whore to go by the Dark Lady could
have injured me very badly.  I certainly howled to convince her of that which I
am sure gave her a big orgasm.  But it didn't bother me much.  Since plastic
penises don't have nerves she couldn't tell whether the dildo was doing anything
to me. And I sure wasn't going to tell her.  The people around here are not as
smart as they think.  If I can survive tonight, I think things will get better. 
I think I can get a leg up on these people.  And if I do, I am going to make
life Hell for my tall dark lesbian sex goddess, so help me God.

Mrs. Robinson
9:00 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
The Receptionist, Continued

Every time I imagine it can't get worse, it gets worse.  Dear God what did I do
to deserve this.  I know I have been unfaithful many times.  And twice with the
lovers of two different daughters.  But how can he degrade me in this way.  That
last group was so wasted that they could hardly fuck me.  At least they gave me
a beer.

A black Lincoln limo pulls up.  Oh God what now?  Five guys in suits get out,
one holding a bottle of decent single malt Scotch.  They recite the familiar
litany.  They are a group of managers from Deer Park.

What Can I say.  How long can this go on.


Patty Pine
9:05 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Depravity
Is Dr. Strikt nuts?  What is going on here?  There is something very wrong going
on here.  I am not sure how much Rev. Payne knows about what is happening her. 
This is very, very sinful.  This goes way beyond punishing or disciplining
people.  Or training them.  Dr. Strikt is doing this for her own very perverted
pleasure.  And she is trying to turn some of us into perverts too.  Well I will
not be made into a pervert.  I am a Christian and Christians have no truck with
perverts.  I am a good woman and a faithful wife.  I am not a lesbian and I will
not be tricked into becoming a lesbian.

Candy Among the Christians

Download 11.
Download Title, "Family Reunion"


Christopher Robinson
10:00 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Hello Wife, Hello Daughter

After a very fine dinner we finally arrived back at 2nd Evangelical.  I was in
an excellent mood.  I had just had a truly fine 12 oz. Ribeye at Ruth Chris' and
between the Rev. Payne and I we killed a bottle of a superb cab-sav and a
Zinfandel fruit bomb.  We even gave a glass of each to Barbara who was playing
the role of a sophisticated young lady.  Asparagus with Hollandaise sauce. 
Awesome coffee.  Today was the first day I could relax in a month.  Since I
learned about Anne and Benji.

As we entered the lobby I could see that Anne had been having quite a night too. 
As we walked up to the desk she fell at my feet and hugged my ankles begging
forgiveness.  Her jacket was a wreck and her corset was lying on the desk next
to an empty bottle of Glenmorangie.  Her hair was matted into a mess by dried
semen which also covered her face.  A mixture of semen and blood was smeared
over her inner thighs and perineum which was also covered in whip welts.  She
begged me to take her back, to forgive her, to think of our children, to have
mercy.  The entertainment we had planned for her had obviously been effective. 
We unchained her from the reception desk and took her back down to the treatment
room.  A decade ago I forgave her after similar betrayal.  I was not in the mood
to be so forgiving a second time.  Barbara was clearly affected by the sight of
her mother but she kept her thoughts to herself.

When we finished navigating the maze to get us to Room B169, the Treatment Room,
I saw that my other daughter Elizabeth was not having a much better time than
her mother.  She was strung up with her hands loosely suspended over her head. 
Her backside and loins were a mass of crisscrossing whip welts and the bruises
on her breasts were starting to ripen from red to purple.  She had an expression
of complete horror on her face.  I can see that Dr. Strikt had been doing her
job.

Betty's punishment was nearing its end.  Anne's ordeal had a long way to go.


Rev. Maximilian Payne
10:10 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Assessment and Instructions

Mr. Robinson was obviously pleased with how things were proceeding and
volunteered his thoughts effusively.  He congratulated me that my ideas and
plans were far superior to his.  Barbara was more bouncy and ebullient than I
had ever seen her before.  I think that red wine agrees with the young lady. 
Mrs. Robinson looked like Hell.  In fact I think we had given her a little
foretaste of what Hell will be like if she doesn't reform.  Her quest for sexual
pleasure here on earth could earn her an eternity of sexual pain hereafter.  The
expression "fucked over" could have been explicitly invented to describe her
appearance.

Downstairs things had obviously progressed in a similar productive manner.  Ms.
Elizabeth Robinson and Mrs. Candy Butz were both restrained with their arms in
the air and Mrs. Butz had her "bag" back on.  Both the adolescent and the adult
had spectacular backsides, beaten with straps this afternoon and the bruised
flesh whipped this evening.  Their breasts were also displaying the results of
careful attention with nicely ripening bruises.  Patty also displayed the
results of her chastisement, breasts and buttocks marked with red and purple
whip tracks.  All three of these ladies were obviously near the end of their
rope, so to speak.

I asked an obviously pleased Dr. Strikt how the accounting stood and what her
plans were.  She indicated that Mrs. Butz needed fifteen more lashes with the
whip and recommended that ten be applied to her breasts and five to her
perineum.  Miss Betty Robinson needed thirteen more lashes and the Dark Lady
suggested eight to the breasts and five to the perineum.  Lastly she stated that
so far today Mrs. Anne Robinson had received twenty-four lashes, all to the
perineum.  In Mrs. Anne Robinson's case, Dr. Strikt suggested that the remainder
of today's allotment, fifteen lashes, be applied to her breasts.  I nodded in
agreement.  Then I asked her, "What are your detailed plans".  She replied,
First whip Elizabeth's breasts and then Candy's.  While this is going on Patty
will clean up Mrs. Robinson.  Then we will whip Anne's breasts.  Lastly we will
chastise Elizabeth's and Candice's nether regions.  This should all be
accomplished prior to the arrival of Dr. Shinezall at 11:00 PM.  I told her
"Make it so".  Mrs. Robinson was still a little too distracted to follow any of
this but Mrs. Butz and Ms. Elizabeth Robinson closely followed every word.  Ms.
Barbara Robinson was mostly focused on Dr. Strikt.

I then turned my attention to my secretary.  Patty was "all pootered out" so to
speak.  It looked like Dr. Strikt had done a limited but very thorough job on
her.  Loose strips of outer skin were dangling from some of the whip welts
across Patty's thoroughly bruised buttocks.  The bleeding had stopped but the
cut skin was oozing pinked tinged fluid which glistened brightly.  But my
secretary's demeanor was far more downcast than could be accounted for by the
beating she had received.  I asked her "Had a long hard day?"  She nodded in
affirmation.  I told her "You need some compensatory time for the extra long
hard hours you put in today.  Take tomorrow off as compensation.  Be in on
Friday at 8:00 AM sharp.  Now get dressed".  That seemed to brighten her up a
bit.

Lastly I turned to Christopher Robinson.  I pulled another folding chair out of
the storage area and set the two of them up so that we had a good view of both
Candy and Betty.  I motioned for him to sit down.  "You are in for quite a
spectacle.  As a warm up to whipping your wife, Dr. Strikt will whip your
daughter Betty and another lady who is in need of harsh chastisement.  Elsbeth
is more than an expert with the Norcod whip, she is a true artist.  You will
probably never ever see anything like this ever again."  Mr. Robinson looked
mellow and contented.

Ms. Elizabeth Robinson
10:15 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
My Father As Audience

No Way, SHIT.  My father is behind this.  And here I am, strung up by my arms. 
And they are turning that bitch lesbo loose on me again.  Eight to the tits and
five to the pussy with that whip of hers.  I've seen it and felt it before.  And
my father is in on it.  My father is behind it.  My father is sitting right
there in front of me.  "Please Daddy, Please don't let her do it.  Please don't
let her hurt me.  Please Daddy, I'll be good.  O please!  OH! DADDY!"

Elsbeth Strikt, Ph.D.
10:20 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Elizabeth and Candice Reconsidered

All of the pleading of the little brat were in vain.  She is mine now and will
be for another three years.  I chose a four stranded Norcod whip with thongs
about two feet long and five knots spaced half an inch apart in the last two and
a half inches of each cord.  When Elizabeth saw the whip she started screaming. 
I did a full wind up and brought the whip down on the upper surface of her right
breast.  Only the last three inches of the whip struck her breast.  But Betty's
breasts had been tenderized with the strap-crop earlier this evening by Patty
and were now swollen and purple with bruises.  Because she was hoisted up on her
tip-toes by her bondage, her breasts were stretched across her chest.  The knots
of the Norcod 24/4/5 sliced right into the skin of the upper part of the breast. 
Betty really started screaming now.  I quickly followed with a second similar
blow to the upper part of her left breast.  Her howls became unintelligible, no
words only animal noises.  I paused for a moment to admire my work.  Blood was
beginning to rise in a series of four cuts on the tops of each breast.  She
wouldn't be wearing any low cut tank tops for a while.  After almost a minute, I
backed off and measured off the right distance with a couple of practice swings
that just missed.  The next four lashes would be coming in horizontally, from
the sides hitting first the out aspect of the right breast, then the outer
aspect of the left breast, then the inner aspect of the right breast and finally
the inner aspect of the left breast.  Four smooth strokes, a one and a two and a
three and a four.  Just like that.  Just like dancing.  I waited.  After about a
minute and a half, as the young lady's screams subsided, I struck.  A one and a
two and a three and a four.  That's about as long as it took.  Four more sets of
furrows cut, this time into the sides of her breasts, each no more than about
three inches long.  Sixteen furrows, all ending up in the areola.  At first she
was stunned.  Then after about fifteen seconds she exploded.  She pulled herself
up by her arms, legs flailing and thrashing.  The air was positively rent by her
animal howling.  It looked like a gymnastic exhibition on the parallel rings.  I
would have given her ten out of ten.  She screamed and twisted for over a
minute.  Her entire body was becoming covered in sweat.  Again, I waited until
she subsided into sobbing before I struck.  I wanted my last two blows to come
from the bottom and so they did, completing the pattern.  This time as she was
screaming her entire body began shaking violently and her eyes rolled up into
her orbits.  It took a good minute and a half for the shakes to stop.  As I took
the cloth soaked in vinegar brine and washed off her breasts to staunch the
bleeding, she fainted.  Just about perfect I said to myself as I cleaned the
whip off with rubbing alcohol.

Now I turned my attention to Candy.  Though the veiling of her hood she intently
watched everything I did to Betty.  Ten for Candice with the same whip that so
nicely sliced up Betty's bruised breasts.  Candy had a truly magnificent set of
mammaries. The kind that I lusted for when I was a girl.  It would be the most
exquisite pleasure to slice these up.  The same pattern as for Betty except I
would aim the blows to land an inch more peripheral from the nipple than on
Betty to accommodate the larger area of Candy's breasts.  And the last two, I
would aim at the areolae and nipples, one lash for each breast.  And I hit even
harder.  Candy, of course was a screamer.  I am surprised that Rev. Payne, with
his delicate ears didn't order her gagged.  I guess he didn't want to spoil the
effect for Mr. Robinson.  Candy outdid her previous efforts in the vocal area. 
I took my time with Candy because I wanted the blood to flow a little.  With
Candy's much bigger breasts, even though suspending her by the wrists stretched
the breasts, they still had a lot of giggle.  And giggle they did every time
they were beaten, a ripple coursing through the struck breast.  And Candy swung
around from side to side with each blow much more than Betty did.  Soon every
time the lash hit, a dozen or more droplets of blood would be swung off by her
movements.  I guess that this is a novel dance for her.  A ballet of blood. 
Again I let her hang for a bit while I wiped off my whip and before I put the
brine to her bleeding breasts. I wanted the blood to drip off.  I loved the
sight of the blood pooling on her nipples and dripping off.  Pity, when I
applied the vinegar brine to her lacerated skin, she didn't pass out.  I thought
I must be losing my touch.  Candy only howled.  Done, I turned to Max and Chris
and gave a little bow.  They stood up and applauded.  


Candice Butz
10:25 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Whipping Artistry, Bullshit

It was funny.  The Dark Lady was now out less to cause pain than to injure. 
Many of the earlier things she did to us were more painful.  Now she was cutting
more, she was out to draw blood.  Not that it didn't hurt.  It hurt like hell. 
Just imagine how painful your skin is because it is all bruised from an earlier
beating.  Now whip it.  The pain is just as bad as from the first beating and
maybe worse.  But this time she was out for blood, and got it.  She seemed to
scent the blood and get turned on by it.  Like some kind of predatory animal. 
Her pupils kept contracting and dilating.  By the time she was finishing my
breast whipping I could swear she was panting, and not just from the physical
exertion.  She was in the same trance as I have seen in ballerinas during a
great performance.  She was totally, physically, in all her senses wrapped up in
her art.  As she sponged my bleeding breasts with brine her fingers caressed
each of the multitude of cuts with their whealed edges.  She was adoring her
art.  I was thinking that it will probably be a couple of weeks before I wear a
bra again.

Earlier while Dr. Strikt was whipping Elizabeth's breasts, I observed that Patty
took Anne over to the shower area, stripped her of her jacket, corset, hose and
shoes, and washed her down.  After that I was preoccupied with my own breast
whipping. Then through bleary eyes I watch Patty and Barbara take Elizabeth down
and suspend her mother up in her place.   When she was done with me, Dr. Strikt
went over to Anne Robinson.  She announced to Mrs. Robinson that she was going
to get fifteen lashes to her breasts with that nasty Norcod whip.  The Dark Lady
seem to take delight in pointing out the damage done to Betty's boobs by 8 and
to my boobs by 10 and just imagine what 15 would do to mommy.  Mrs. Robinson
looked a lot better than she did when she arrived at 10 PM but as the reality of
what they were going to do to her rack sunk in, she became disconsolate and
began to sob and plea for mercy.  Meanwhile Patty and Barbara were setting up
Elizabeth in the GYNe table, feet in the stirrups, ass hanging over the end of
the table.  As Betty woke up she did not appear to have pleasant memories of her
last visit to the table.  She struggled as much as she could in her weakened
condition but to no avail.  From the conversations I heard earlier I suppose I
am shortly to take her place on the table.
  

Mrs. Anne Robinson
10:30 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Mutilation

I see and I understand what this fiend from Hell is after.  She is under the
control of that third rate fundamentalist preacher, Rev. Payne.  The wonderful
hypocritical minister is probably being paid off by my schmuck of a husband to
torture me, and it looks like my daughter as well.  They have just whipped the
shit out of her tits and they are going to do an even nastier job on my tits. 
And it doesn't matter how much I scream and carry on, they are going to mutilate
me.  That bitch is not even just interested in inflicting pain.  She beat
Elizabeth's breasts with a whip that just didn't raise welts, it cut the skin to
ribbons.  Fifteen!  And eight left Betty's boobs bleeding.  And that lady with
the bag over her head.  They beat her boobs until they bled!  What the hell am I
going to do to get out of this.

Here she come, that tall, dark, flat chested lady in the white, high necked
blouse, the long black skirt and the dark stockings that beat my pussy this
afternoon.  What am I going to do?  Yes, yes, yes I know you are going to give
me fifteen lashes as hard as you can.  I really don't know what a fucking Norcod
whip is and I really don't give a shit.  Now she is taking what looks like an
old fashioned clothesline and wrapping it around the base of my boobs.  She is
tying my boobs together.  Hey not so tight.  She is making something like a bra
out of rope and tying it around my tits.  Ouch, that hurts.

OH! OH! OH! SHIIITTTT!  That hurt.  She used the whip right across the top of
both of my breasts from the right side.  OH! NO! OH! NO! OH! NO!  She moved over
to my left side and laid that whip right over both of my breasts again except
from the opposite side.  God that hurt.  That whip is made from electrical lamp
cord, with the two wires separated.  The ends of each plastic coated wire is
tied into knots.  SHIT!  NO! NO! NO! ARRGH!  She did it again.  Oh did that
hurt.  Those knots just cut right into the skin.  OOOOHHHH! PLEASE NO, PLEASE
NO,  PLEASE DON'T HURT ME.  A fourth across my breasts.  My tities are starting
to bleed.  Oh God did that hurt.  She is backing up and standing in front of me. 
I think she is going to hit me from the front rather than the sides. OHHH! OHHH!
OHH!  PLEASE! Oh God that hurt.  No not the other breast, AAARRGGHH! Oh that
hurt.  That makes six, nine more to go.  I will never make it.  Again the top of
my right breast PLEASE!  NO! NO!  DON"T HURT ME.  No No, not my left breast.  OH
PLEASE!  I NEVER HURT YOU, WHY ARE YOU HURTING ME!  Eight, seven more to go. 
EEIIIGGHH!  Coming in from the side right on my right nipple.  EEIIGGHH from the
other side on my left nipple.  My mouth is dry, I can't get my breath.  EEIIGGHH 
Nipple again.  I can't breathe.  EEIIGGHH!  My legs can't stand,  I can't
breath, let me loose.  Three more.  I am bleeding.  My blood is dripping from my
breasts.

Elsbeth Strikt, Ph.D.
10:35 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Thoughts on Breast Beating and Pussy Whipping

Mrs. Robinson is a real swine.  Squeals just like an animal in pain.  Her tits
sag like the dugs of a sow.  After Patty gave Anne a shower you could really
tell where she has had plastic surgery.  Her now clean face shines because the
tucks she has had have stretched the skin and made it shiny. In the bright light
I can see how the plastic surgeon moved her nipples up when he tried to fix her
sagging breasts.  Tuck them up.  Same thing on the belly.  I can see where the
skin was tightened up to try and keep that belly taut.  Probably took out some
fat while he was at it.

Well I am doing some plastic surgery on her breast.  With my whip.  I am
shredding a little skin.  Making cuts.  Making it bleed.  Anne is going insane
with the pain and terror.  She is really freaking out.  Well that is my mandate. 
Welcome to Hell Mrs. Robinson.  I think that you believe that I am going to whip
the tits right off of you.  There, pass out, see if I care.  We have just barely
begun to work on you.  You will suffer for a long time.

Your daughter Elizabeth is coming around.  The day is almost over for her.  Move
her over to the table, spread her legs and bind her ankles to the stirrups.  She
had a bit of a pussy whipping earlier today.  Now we will finish the job.  First
she took a few blows on her vulva.  Then those Haitians pumped her vagina with
their huge dicks.  Now that the perineal meat is tenderized, I will slice it
with my whip.  My young lady, your pussy will soon be so sore and battered that
you will not want to even think of more fucking around until you reach your
majority.  Good.  That is what you need.  You started off on the wrong foot but
I am putting you right.  Another couple of sessions and you will be a decent
God-fearing young woman.  Too late to save your virginity but that seems to mean
next to nothing to your generation.


 Ms. Barbara Robinson
10:45 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Mom and Sis

I am amazed at how dispassionate I can be about the torment that my mother and
younger sister are going through.  But then I never liked either of them and
they are grievous sinners.  They are so different from me and dad.  We try to
follow the Commandments of God and they just always seem to go out of their way
to do wrong.  I don't understand how they find evil so attractive.  Why can't
they do what they are supposed to do.  Maybe this chastisement will force them
to see the error of their Sin.  Me, I have never even been spanked in my three
years at 2nd Evangelical, let alone subjected to one of the more severe
disciplines.  And Second Evan, as we call it is the strictest private high
school in this huge city. 

Actually, I wouldn't mind being spanked.  I would show them just how strong I
am.  I would never cry or scream or anything like that.  Actually I hope that
someday Dr. Strikt disciplines me.  My mom and sister, on the other hand Sin all
the time.  This last little stunt was particularly wicked, both of them having
sex with the same boy.  Yucko!  Actually, I hate boys.  Pimples, always groping
you, thinking only with their penis.  No elegance, just stiff little penises.  I
just don't see what mom and Betty see in them, why they lust after them. 

Well, mom and Elizabeth are certainly getting their Chastisement now.  Boy, and
how.  I watched while Betty had her boobies worked over.  When Dr. Strikt
started they were already bruised from some earlier beating.  Dr. Strikt did a
beautiful job with her whip making cuts that ran from the base of the breast
down to the nipple.  Nice bloody cuts.  Pretty.  Mom hadn't had her breasts
beaten earlier.  Dr. Strikt made a crisscrossed pattern on her breasts.  And boy
did those cuts bled.  Both mom and Betty screamed and howled like animals when
their breasts were scourged.  As did that other lady.  The one with the really
pretty breasts.  She screamed the loudest.  I wouldn't have even whimpered.  Mom
never even made it all the way through her whipping.  She passed out with two to
go.  Not very brave.  Some day I will get Dr. Strikt to whip me.  I am sure she
would do a special job on me.  I know that I am her favorite student.

Now they have Betty on the table, legs spread and Dr. Strikt is going to give
her five lashes of the whip on her private parts.  Boy, she is already bruised
there.  Oh boy I'll bet that it hurt.  She really screamed when the whip struck
across the lips of her gynie.  Now Dr. Strikt is moving to the other side and
hitting across Betty's pussy lips from the other side.  Both of those whip blows
cut my younger sister's pussy lips.  Dr. Strikt does everything very slow.  I
have never been down here to the Treatment Room before but I have heard the
stories from the other girls.  Dr. Strikt goes back to the other side and
slashes with the whip across my sister's privates again.  Moves to the other
side and hits again.  That makes four.  Betty is really starting to bleed now
and boy is she screaming.  Dr. Strikt has Patty wipe Betty's bottom down with a
liquid that makes Betty really scream but stops the bleeding.  While Dr. Strikt
waits, she wipes down her whip with rubbing alcohol.  Dr. Strikt looks so cool. 
I'll bet that if she whipped my bottom I wouldn't scream or yell.  I would show
her how brave I am, look at her lovingly and she would love me.  I love her more
than my mother.  Finally, Dr. Strikt stands besides my sister's head and
delivers a blow from above.  The tails of the whip cut in all the way from my
sister's asshole up to her pubis.  What a blow!  There, Betty has fainted again. 
What a wuz.  I am glad to see her being punished for her sins.  She used to get
away with everything because mommy preferred her.  Well mommy can't protect her
now.  Now both of them are paying for their sins.
 

Candice Butz
10:50 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Hang In There

This place is really starting to seem like a surreal movie.  I wonder if
everyone here is nuts.  After the Dark Lady whipped the Robinson girl's tits and
made a blood mess of my tits, she really laid into Anne Robinson's breasts. 
First she did a bondage job on them.  Actually looked pretty nice, certainly
took the sag out of them and made them stand out again.  Improved on what the
plastic surgeon did and at a far cheaper rate.  Then she laid down a crisscross
pattern of cuts on those bound boobies.  Anne didn't appreciate things much.  In
any case she fainted before the Dark Lady was even done.  Boy I really don't
like it when the blood spatters.

Then they put the girl onto the GYN table.  Dr. Strikt only gave her five lashes
with the whip but given the bruised condition of the girls cunny, those five
really cut things up.  Again blood was spattering.  And the girl passed out. 
Now they are taking me over to the damn table.  Strikt says I will get five as
well.  You can be sure I will yell as loud as I can.  I know that it hurts Rev.
Payne's ears but tough shit.  Maybe the Dark Lady is getting tired.  In the last
hour she had doled out forty-three lashes with that whip of hers.  Pray God that
arm is getting weak.  Here come mine.

Oh that hurt.  Earlier today I took a few in the crotch from behind that caused
bruising and swelling of my labia.  God, Oh that hurt, the second.  The whip
really cut in from the side.  Unlike earlier when I was spread out prone on the
horse, bound supine on the table I can just see my perineum if I scrunch my chin
down into my breast bone.  Oh shit, the third, that really hurt.  Yeah, she is
cutting up the lips of my pussy.  She seems to love mutilating our breasts and
privates.  Whipping our butts was to give us pain, the breasts and pussy
whippings is to cut us.  Oh damn, the fourth.  Of course I am keeping up one
continuous scream and I have a big mouth.  Ah, the fifth and last.  Now I can
stop screaming.  Now I can put my head back.  Now I can relax.  From listening
in on their chatter I think that this is it for me for tonight.  God I hope so. 
Oh Shit! Oh Shit! Oh Shit!  She just sponged what smells like vinegar on my
pussy, God did that string.  Oh please Lord, no more today. 


Christopher Robinson
10:55 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
The Gentle Sex

This is just simply the most amazing thing I have ever seen.  A teenage girl and
two women whipped into insensibility by that tall dark-haired, middle-aged
teacher.  Apparently her name is Dr. Strikt and she is Barbara's favorite
teacher.  And Dr. Strikt took such obvious pleasure in it.  Anne seems to have
had the worst of it.  Even though her backside is unmarked, the skin of her
breasts appears to be shredded and in tatters.  The brine solution they used to
staunch the bleeding has done its job.  But thin sanguine fluid oozes from at
least a dozen cuts on each breast.  Anne's breasts are also purple from the
obstruction of blood flow caused by the lines that are binding them together.  I
have to admit that the breast bondage makes her boobs perkier than I have seen
them in over twenty years.  Anne's nether regions are also oozing and as they
are bringing her back around, she is standing very bow-legged.  Earlier this
evening it looked like they had given her quite a beating there.  And being
rogered by those two security guards and then about a dozen picked guys from our
various plants around town probably didn't help things internally.  Well, that's
the idea.  I want her to hurt.  I want it to be a couple of months before she
sticks her boobs out again.  I want her to associate intercourse with pain for
the rest of her life.  I want her to scream whenever an erect penis comes
anywhere near her.  But that tall dark-haired teacher with the flat chest really
loves her work.  I was watching her eyes I she whipped Anne's breasts.  They
were pig eyes.

I almost felt sorry for Elizabeth.  She was quite cruelly treated.  Her earlier
beatings had bruised her backside and breasts and the whipping she was given
just before we returned had left her with cuts in her buttocks and thighs.  But
the most pathetic thing of all was the obvious lust with which Dr. Strikt
whipped my girls breasts and perineum.  Who ever called them the gentle sex was
obviously in error.  Dr. Strikt was obviously off in a world of her own, doing a
great performance.  I know that these things are necessary.  I just wish that
Dr. Strikt did not so obviously enjoy it.  Elizabeth definitely did not.  She
may even bear a few scars from today, although Dr. Shinezall said that it
impossible to predict in a fifteen-year-old.  He says that they heal like rats. 
Well, there is no other way.  The last time with my older daughter I tried the
route of forgiveness and look where it got me.  Elizabeth has to suffer. 
Hopefully, when we assess her progress in a few days, no further extreme
chastisements will be warranted.  I certainly hope so.  Meanwhile we will keep
her away from her mother.

The third lady is a puzzle.  She is wearing a veiled hood over her head but I
can still tell that she is blond.  She has an awesome body, everything perfect,
tits, ass, legs, thighs, WOW!  She has taken a beating today and has cuts all
over her body.  But her body language is different than Anne's.  Anne is beat
and broken, which is good.  Anne will be broken even more before we are done. 
The blond lady moves as though her spirit is intact.  She has been bloodied and
she screams like nothing I have ever seen.  But I suspect that Dr. Strikt has
not broken her.  That blond lady is faking a good deal of her pain.  She can
fool Dr. Strikt who is distracted by blood-lust but she can't fool me.  I know
her from somewhere.

Candy Among the Christians

Download 12.
Download Title, "Dr. Shinezall's Take Care of It"


Rev. Maximilian Payne
11:00 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
My Good Friend Dr. Shinezall

The phone over on the wall is ringing.  Ah, yes it is eleven o'clock.  I'll
wager that that is Dr. Shinezall, my good friend, on the Interstate, ready to
exit.  Hello, Jake, you're three minutes out.  I'll send someone up to let you
in and bring you down.  Oh yes, we have need of your services.  I'm sure you
will make things right.  Yes, I realize not as good as new, not a problem.  But
yes your services are required.  "Barbara, please go up to the reception area,
let Dr. Shinezall in and escort him down here.  Thank you."

Well, the whipping is over for a bit.  Certainly Candy and Betty and Patty are
done for the night.  They certainly look like they are done for the night. 
After the good Dr. Shinezall is done with Elizabeth she can go home with her
dad.  They are certainly ready to begin a new phase in their father-daughter
relationship.  Chris was certainly startled when I introduced him to the concept
of Disciplinary Sexual Congress but he seems to have taken to it.  Betty's
vagina will be off limits for some time.  We want her to come to see that
orifice as a source only of pain.  But that leaves her mouth and her anus as
orifices of service.  Yes it is home for Elizabeth until her next trip to the
Treatment Room.

Candy is finished with her first day at 2nd Evangelical.  She doesn't realize
yet that her girls and her housekeeper, Mrs. Broussard were moved over here late
this afternoon.  We are done with refurbishing that set of townhouses that
Genron donated to us just before he went down the tubes.  Why the hell an energy
company started dabbling in real estate development I will never know.  Well in
any case they were on the southwestern most edge of the campus and they have
given us a boarding school capability and I am grateful for that.  Mrs.
Broussard should be getting here about 11:30 to take Candy over once Dr.
Shinezall has checked her out and effected any necessary repairs.

Patty is dressed, albeit minus panties and bra.  I guess her tits and ass are
too sore to bear close fitting clothing.  I will drive her home as soon as she
can be spared.  I told her husband that it would probably be midnight before she
got home.  He and I will have a nightcap together.  Patty looks pretty much the
worse for wear.  A day off tomorrow will do her good.  Besides, with a couple of
weeks to go before school I don't really need her, not with Barbara
volunteering.  Actually, I don't have a lot for Patty to do on Friday, she is so
caught up with her work.  But I do have plans for her on Friday.

Barbara, now there is a strange one.  A pretty girl although she certainly hides
her looks under a basket.  If this were St. Agnes, Duschene or Incarnate Word, I
would suspect that she is harboring a vocation to be a nun.  Well, not here. 
She certainly adores Dr. Strikt.  I wonder how well she knows that dark lady. 
Barbara has thrived here at 2nd Evangelical.  All A's.  Never a single Saturday
detention.  Never even a single demerit.  Her impeccable conduct has definitely
kept her mother blissfully unaware of our disciplinary policies.  I suspect that
there is more to this girl than we know.


Elsbeth Strikt, Ph.D.
11:05 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
That Bastard Shinezall

Well that bastard Shinezall is coming tonight.  I wonder if he knows I am here. 
I suspect that when he walks in the door of the Treatment Room he will be taken
aback.  I have only encountered him once or twice since he moved here.  I bet he
left the City just days before the State Board of Medical Qualifications pulled
his license.  He certainly inserted himself quickly into this city.  Within the
last three years he has cornered the market on high end cosmetic surgery here. 
I hear he is married now and has spawned a whole slew of daughters.  Serves him
right, still no son.  Converted from snapping mackerel to evangelical.  The
other day I saw that his eldest daughter is transferring in here as a sophomore
must be related to him being appointed to the Board of Directors.  Curiouser and
curiouser.  I know that Rev. Payne has used him before to tidy things up on a
couple of occasions when I got a bit carried away and used a Norcod whip a bit
too forcefully on the tender parts of a mommy.  And Shinezall has also be
providential when there was a little too much bleeding after the Haitians did
their magic.  Still I cannot stand Jacob's incessant psuedo-intellectual
philosophizing.  Positivism went out with Descartes.  So much for the
intellectual life of physicians.  Particularly Roman Catholic physicians, or
recently ex-Catholic.  But I will never forgive the harm he caused me back when
we were both back at Columbia. 

In any case it is time to change the table from foot stirrups to
back-of-the-knee-props.  Shinezall likes his ladies well supported and widely
spread.  Fortunately Candy is conscious enough and co-operative enough that we
can change the hardware with her still on the table. 


Candice Butz
11:10 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
So This Is The Famous Dr. Shinezall

Dr. Strikt and her mignon Patty changed the hardware on the GYN table I was
lying on.  They had been using stirrups that you put your feet into to steel
braces that support the back of your knees.  I did not take this as a positive
sign.  Stirrups are used for standard gynecologic exams.  Those funny props are
used when the legs need to be spread wider.  Like for childbirth or gynecologic
surgery.  What do these fucking sadists have in mind for me.  I should have paid
more attention to that phone conversation the Rev. Payne had a couple of minutes
ago.

Then the door that I think of as the northeast one opened and in came a short
fat, balding man dressed in one of the ugliest bright blue polyester suits that
I have ever seen.  Those things went out of fashion in 1978.  And even in 1978
this one would have been accounted cheap.  Not even a Mexican would wear a suit
like that.  I could smell the reek of cheap bourbon all the way across the room. 
God I could use a drink right now!  The troll went up to the Rev. Payne and they
greeted each other like long lost Kentucky cousins.  Then I caught his name,
Jake Shinezall, Dr. Shinezall, the Dr. Shinezall.  The man who brought botox to
our fair city.  The feel-good cosmetic surgeon.  The incessant topic of
conversation of at least half of my closest friends.  Or now, former friends. 
Rev. Payne introduced the good doctor to Mr. Robinson who opined that although
he had never met Dr. Shinezall, the good doctor had relieved him of more than
$50,000 for various cosmetic surgeries on Anne.  "Therefore this is very much a
celebratory occasion,  Jake" went the good Rev, "because for once Chris can keep
his wallet in his pocket.  Because this visit is off the record and off the
bill.  In fact, it never happened".  Now I am really starting to become
paranoid.  Just what are they going to do to me?  The Rev. Payne continued,
"Chris, Jake here has just joined our Board of Directors.  Therefore, you will
be getting to know him better.  He is here tonight to help us out."  As I
wondered what was coming off my glance went over to Dr. Strikt.  If looks had
electricity, she would have just vaporized Dr. Shinezall with 150,000 volts. 
Seldom have I ever seen a look of such pure, undistilled loathing.  


Jacob Shinezall, M.D.
11:15 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
It Is So Wonderfull To Be Able To Help One's Friends.

"It is really so good to be here" began Dr. Shinezall.  "This city has become
such a home to me since I left Columbia.  The people are so nice, and so
friendly.  And 2nd Evangelical has become the center for my family's life. 
These are the greatest things, the most wonderful things, that have ever
happened to me.  Things are just getting better and better all the time.  This
is most definitely the best place in the whole world."  He looked around the
room and counted heads. Then he opened up his bag and counted again. "Yes, I
have more than enough for everybody" he effused.

"Well" he said sitting down in front of Candy's business end on a chair hastily
supplied by Rev. Payne, "I see we have our first customer laid out and open for
business.  Hee, hee, so to speak."  Noticing the veiled hood over her head he
inquired of Rev. Payne, "and who do we have the pleasure of making happy this
evening".  Rev. Payne replied, "Mrs. Butz, a new teacher of ours".  Regarding
the lady's numerous cuts and bruises Dr. Shinezall commented, "You certainly
have a fascinating approach to new employee orientation here.  I suspect that
Dr. Strikt heads up your Human Resources dept.  She trained under Dr. Mengele
you know."

Dr, Shinezall then looked around until he spied Dr. Strikt.  Then he looked over
to Rev. Payne and said "I'm going to need my GYN repair tray and some one to
give me a hand, or even two hands.  Or as Hawkeye Pierce said so many years ago
- work up close without getting her tits in the way.  I suspect that Dr. Strikt
is eminently qualified in all respects as an assistant."  Elsbeth Strikt at this
point has an expression on her face that approximates that  of innumerable women
throughout history, ranging from Helen of Troy through Mata Hari, when
confronted with intractable male tumescence.  Somebody should take this bastard
out, cut off his balls, and string him up from the nearest tree.  Unfortunately
a nod from Rev. Payne indicated to her that rather than emasculating Dr.
Shinezall, she was to assist him.  With a sour visage she went over to that
closet of seemingly inexhaustible wonders and pulled out a large orange utility
case known in the building trade as a "Homer Box" labeled in Marks-a-Lot "DR
SHINEZALL'S KIT FOR FIXING BUSTED CUNTS".  She also extracted a folding card
table which she set up next to the good doctor and opened up the kit.

Dr. Shinezall selected from the box a large vaginal speculum, a stainless steel
bowl and some Betadine.  He asked the Dark Lady to fill the basin with water and
add an ounce or two of Betadine.  Next he got out some latex gloves, a package
of swabs, locking forceps and a headlamp.  By the time he had his headlamp on
and had donned his gloves, Dr. Strikt was back with his disinfectant.  After
swirling the speculum around in the Betadine he inserted it reciting the magic
mantra "Ok, honey, just relax and everything will be fine".  Much to his
surprise she did.  As he opened the speculum up he began whistling 'heigh ho,
heigh ho, its off to work we go.'  "Well Snow White, I mean Mrs. Butz, you look
clean as a whistle down her.  And considering the way things sometimes run
around here that is, in and of itself, remarkable.  Reminds me of a story from
Seutonius, or was it Plautus."  At this point he picked up a cotton swab with
the forceps, dipped it into the Betadine, and began to swab out Candy's vagina
and cervix.  Dr. Shinezall continued "It certainly wasn't Plutarch.  Anyway, it
was a fragment of 'The Pumpkinification of Claudius', most of which was lost. 
Probably burned.  Anyway, it concerned the third wife of the Emperor Claudius
the First, Messilina was her name.  Anyway, she was cheating on him to an
awesome degree, entertaining in one night twenty or more generals, senators and
higher noblemen.  One of the generals, after a particular rough ride, staggered
out proclaiming, 'she has the insides of an old army boot'.  Actually I cannot
remember the exact Latin word.  It was the word for boot or shoe, which I found
interesting because Roman soldiers didn't wear shoes, they wore a form of lace
up sandal.  Anyway, it is fascinating what a good classical education can do for
you.  You have to give that to the blackrobes. In fourth year Latin we got to
read all the good stuff.  Anyhow, my mystery lady, I suspect that you have the
insides of any old army boot.  I do hope you come to a better end than
Messilina.  When Claudius found out about her flagrant adultery, she was put to
a very cruel death.  Probably had to have lesbian sex with Elsbeth here.  Bet
you didn't know Dr. Strikt had been around that long, did you.  Well, there we
are, not even a scratch in that lovely vagina of yours.  Remarkable, beautiful. 
Rev. Payne, you have a real treasure here.  Ready for duty when you need her." 
With that he withdrew the speculum and dropped it into the bowl of Betadine.  He
grasped each of Candy's labia minora in between his thumb and forefinger and
gave them a vigorous pinch.  Candy screamed shrilly.  "My what a lovely
coloratura" Dr. Shinezall remarked.  "Have you ever thought of singing opera?  I
love opera.  Have you ever heard

     'Life is happiness indeed,
      Mares to ride and books to read,
      Though of noble birth I'm not,
      I'm delighted with my lot'

Its from an opera by Bernstein."  At this point Rev. Payne interrupted and said
"Jake, can we get moving, I don't want to be here all night." 

Dr. Shinezall took a 20 cc syringe filled with a milky liquid and an 18 gauge
needle out of his bag and without bothering to wipe Candy's bottom with
anything, shot half of it into the upper outer quadrant of Candy's right buttock
and the other half into the upper, outer quadrant of Candy's left buttock.  One
again the lady with the black veiled hood over her head shrieked at the top of
her lungs.  Dr. Shinezall slapped both of her but cheeks a couple of times with
his gloved hands and remarked.  "There my dear lady, that is some of Dr.
Shinezall's magic happy juice, a scrumptious mixture of three antibiotics with a
delightful mix of pain killers.  You are finished for tonight but you will be
ready for action again tomorrow.  That shot will take care on spirochetes,
gonococci, clamydia and just about anything that ails ya!  Hasta La Vista Baby! 
Next Customer!"  And with that he slipped the glove off his left hand excepting
the finger tips, pulled the cuff of the glove back with his right hand
stretching it out to over a foot and 'shot' the latex glove right at Dr.
Strikt's posterior.  She was not amused.  As Patty and Barbara assisted Candy
off the table no one could see behind the veil that the blondes eyes had glazed
over.  She was out of it, stoned, bonkers, blotto and flying at 35,000 feet. 
They just sat her down on the closest available vacant chair.

As they brought Elizabeth Robinson over and set her up on the table, Dr.
Shinezall had a chance to sit back and think.  Now that was a strange one.  Why
the need to conceal the identity of that lady.  He caught a glimpse under the
hood of blond hair.  She was not that old, perhaps late 20's.  Good figure. 
Said very little.  He had a feeling she was acting a lot, rather than feeling
that much pain.  He knew about the Robinson situation.  Girl jumping into bed
with the boy toy that the mother then snatched.  Apparently the second time this
has happened in ten years.  Apparently the good Rev. Payne had to talk the
husband out of snuffing both his daughter and his wife.  Or at least snuffing
his wife.  But how did this other lady figure in.  Oh Well its just all for the
good in this best of all possible worlds so go with flow. 


Ms. Elizabeth Robinson
11:20 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Fixing Busted Cunts

I had heard my mom talk about this guy.  A real Dr. Feelgood apparently.  His
office did a lot of cosmetic surgery, facelifts, neck jobs, boob jobs, tummy
tucks, liposuction.  He introduced botox down here for eliminating wrinkle which
made him god to the mothers of a lot of my friends.  Apparently he eased the
pain of the post operative period with some drugs that kept you high for the
best part of the next week.  Apparently he keeps more people stoned than the
combined Mexican-Columbian cartel.  Guess he is going to check me out.  See if
those damned Haitians did any damage down below.

Ouch, sticking that cold piece of steel into my "gynie" hurt.  I haven't had
much experience with Gynecology.  About a year ago when I told my mom that I
intended to start having some fun in life and her response was to drag me off to
her Gynecologist.  He prodded and poked me and then sent my mom out of the room
and we had a real good talk.  He made much more sense than my mom who didn't
seem to give a shit unless it was "don't become pregnant" or "don't get AIDS". 
Which really meant, don't fuck up her life or don't interfere with her having
fun.  To hell with me.  Anyway, the gynecologist gave me a set of morning after
pills in case I need them rather than putting me on the pill.  He encouraged me
to come back and have a talk with him without my mom but I haven't had a chance
to arrange it becuz I am not driving yet.

Anyway, duh, here I am on my back with my feet up in the air and Dr. Sunshine
poking around my cunt.  He says that I have one small "lazeration" in my pussy. 
Guess that means my cunt is busted. But what lasers have to do with fucking I
don't know.  Anywhy he is going to fix it.  Fix my busted cunt.  OUCH, that
pinched.  He says he is grabbing onto the one side of my "lazeration".  Ouch, he
says he just grabbed onto the other side.  YEOOW! He says that he just put a
needle into the inside of my baginna.  I said "Aren't you going to give me a
shot to take away the pain."  He says, don't worry that will come later. 
OOOOHHH that hurt.  He is sticking needles inside my vagina!  I don't know how
that is going to fix my busted cunt.  He says he is sewing me up.  AAUUGGHH!  He
stuck me again.  He says that numbing me up will be more time and needle sticks
than just sewing me up without Anastasia, whoever she is.  I wish she was here
so that I wouldn't hurt so much.  OUCH!  That hurt.  He says, don't be a big
baby, having babies hurts more than this.  Well I don't like it one bit.

Ok, he says.  We are done.  Now he give me a big shot in my ass end.  Oh SHIT
does that sting.  What the hell is he doing?  Now the other one.  OH BOY THAT
HURT.  He said it is something to keep me from getting infected and some things
to make the pain go away.  Make my busted cunt feel good.  He says that now my
daddy will take me home.  He says that a week before any more fucking around. 
He says that I will heal like a rat.  What does it mean to heal like a rat. 
What the hell.  Hell.  Busted cunt.

Oh what was that shit.  Boy that was good shit.  Good shit hell that was great
shit.  We never partied like this before.  Who does he deal his shit from.  Wow. 
Shit.  Fuck me again big Haitian boy if I can get shit like this afterward.  Big
Dick, good shit.  Fuck.  What asshole.  Who asshole.  Boy.  Cool.  Bust my cunt
any day.

Mrs. Anne Robinson
11:20 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
What the Hell Is Dr. Shinezall Doing Here

What the hell is that bozo doing here.  He is a plastic surgeon rather than a
gynecologist.  I've got to admit he is one hell of a cosmetic surgeon.  He
charges the highest prices in town but he does deliver.  He did a hell of a job
on my boobs.  Took twenty years of sag out.  Same thing with my face.  Everybody
loves him because he has such a positive attitude.  Always looks on the bright
side of things.  Makes people happy.  He declares the hooded blonde lady fine
and puts a few stitch into my worthless daughter.  OK, now its my turn on the
table.  Let's see what he says about my pussy.  I still can't figure him playing
gynedoc.

Why the hell can't he warm up that damn speculum before he sticks it in.  How
dumb can these guys be.  Someday I wanna shove an ice cube up their ass.  He is
obviously not happy now.  He starts talking to my husband.  Says that I am cut
up real bad.  My husband says to hell with it.  Let it be as it is.  Shinezall
says that it will scar and contract down real bad.  "This prune willa"  or maybe
"Disparunia" or whatever.  My worthless husband says, great.  I guess those last
bunch of guys shoving that scotch bottle up my twat did it.  At least they let
me kill the bottle before they stuck it up.  Actually, the bottle was pretty
much full when they gave it to me.  But I killed it anyway.  Decent of them. 
Most of them were too drunk to get it up.  Apparently they had killed a couple
of other bottles of Scot's whiskey on the way up.  Since they couldn't do the
deed, they let the bottle do it.
So it looks as if Shinezall isn't going to do anything.  Na, wait.  Sez that
there are a couple of lazerations that he has to so, stop the bleeding.  Just
give me a shot.  Or two.  Hey I could use another shot.  Same stuff as he gave
my daughter and that blonde lady.  Good.  Always knew he had good drugs.  Great
stuff.  What, no shot yet.  Dr. Strikt says to give her the syringe and she will
shoot me up when she thinks I am ready.  Oh Shit.  I could use a hit right now. 
Everybody gets their busted cunt fixed except me.

Rev. Maximilian Payne
11:30 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Where To From Here?

"Well, everyone, I think we have come to crucial point in this day's work.  Mr.
Robinson, are you satisfied with the adjustment in Elizabeth's attitude".  I
looked over at my friend who was supporting with his arm his dazed and now
obviously drugged daughter.  He allowed that she might take some close
supervision in the next few weeks but that he felt she had learned 'where the
bear shit in the buckwheat'.  I said that at this point he could take her home. 
But good old Dr. Shinezall interrupted.  He pointed out that although Mr.
Robinson and I did not need any "happy juice" we did need our dose of
antibiotics.  "Can't afford to have anything floating around that causes
anything worse than the sniffles, such as 'sniffilis'," he punned as Chris and I
groaned.  None the less we dropped our trousers and bent over to receive a
syringe of his finest in our asses.  Then he went back to work on Anne's pussy. 

Of course this was just the moment for Mrs. Broussard to walk in.  Dr. Shinezall
piped up. " It isn't as if they could be further embarrassed, being bare assed,
after what they have done".  Even the semi-conscious Mrs. Genron groaned at that
one.  I felt a word of explanation was in order.  "Mrs. Broussard is Mrs.
Genron's, pardon me, Mrs. Butz's housekeeper.  She will take Mrs. Butz, who is
hardly in a condition to navigate on her own, to her new quarters."  This got
the drugged, hooded and veiled blonde's attention and her head snapped up.  I
continued "The condo's over across the parking lot started out as a Genron
project.  When they didn't sell, Genron donated them to 2nd Evangelical for a
big tax write-off which unfortunately they don't need right now.  In any case
the church decided to remodel them slightly and turn them into dormitory space
so that we could accept girls as boarders and thus expand our high school
ministry to beyond commuting distance."  I should have truncated my explanation
one phrase earlier because Dr. Shinezall, unable to keep his attention focused
on Mrs. Robinson's vagina had to comment "And considering gridlock in this
transportation deranged city, that could be two or three blocks".  We all tried
to ignore him.  I concluded this portion of the conversation with "Mrs. Butz
will be the new housemother for the girls arriving in a week or so.  Mrs.
Broussard will be her assistance.  Her two girls will live with her.  I am sure
that they will find their quarters satisfactory.  Interesting enough, we were
going to name it 'Genron' Hall after the late Alex.  I guess we cannot do that
now".  Then an interesting thought occurred to me.  "Chris, how would Dow like
the naming rights to our new dormitory, say Dow Hall, or even Robinson Hall. 
What do you think it would be worth." 

I should have kept my mouth shut.  No sooner were the words out of my mouth than
Dr. Shinezall started up.  "Hey, what about Shinezall Hall.  First it is
alliterative, zall/hall.  Second how often do the evangelicals get to name
something after a ethnic Jewish Catholic who backslides to fundamentalism. 
Third, we could remodel the portico to look like a vagina.  Just think of the
sight of all those cunts walking into a giant puss.  I think I am inspired to
sing."  He was drowned out by the chorus of NOOO!  I figured it was time to get
the show on the road.  Shinezall was just finishing up with what repairs he was
able to effect here in the treatment room.  He was definitive about one thing. 
Nothing up the twat bigger than a tampon for Mrs. Robinson for at least a month. 
"The inflammation triggered by the injuries she has sustained will mean greatly
influence blood flow into the region while healing occurs.  Any poking around in
there will mean ripping engorged, new blood vessels which will bleed like the
veritable son of a bitch." He explained.  "Any fucking around will cause
internal bleeding, she will bleed to death."  He husband quipped, "Great, is
there any way we can make this permanent".  At this point Shinezall rolled his
eyes and for the first time everyone agreed with him.  Shinezall finished up by
summoning Patty who was trying to hide in the corner.  "Up skirts, down panties,
stick your ass out.  You don't need anything but antibiotics after hanging out
with these perverts."  Dr. Strikt responded to this with, "Watch out who you are
calling pervert, matzo ball."   

Before open warfare erupted I gave the dismissal.  Chris takes his younger
daughter home, the large bosomed Cajun lady takes Mrs. Butz over to the
God-knows-what-the-name-will-be Hall, I take Patty home, Dr. Strikt, Barbara
Robinson and Mrs. Robinson stays here, and Dr. Shinezall goes to wherever his
optimistic whim will lead him.  Amen!

Elsbeth Strikt, Ph.D.
11:40 PM, Wednesday August 1st, 2001
Everything Is Always Getting Better According to Dr. Shinezall

 OK Shinezall you bastard, get the hell out of here.  All of you get the hell
out of here.  Leave me alone with Barbara and her mother.  There are only twenty
minutes left in the day.  Ya Ya Ya, Dr. Shinezall.  Everything is always getting
better and better.  This is the best of all possible worlds.  FUCK YOU.  You
never did anything for me except fuck my tits up.  You are a piece of shit.  You
money-grubbing son of a Jew.  I hate you.  Some day I will get even with you for
what you did to my tits twenty years ago.  You bet.  Your daughter will go here
to school and she and your wife will soon enough discover what hell is.  Trust
me.  Bet their asses and tits and cunts on it.  Because I will.  I will never
forget what you did to my tits.  Their asses, tits and cunts will be mine.

Well Barbara.  Its down to you and me and your mommy.  And before the new day
dawns we will have some real fun.  We may have to leave Anne's cunt alone but
that doesn't mean we can't have fun.  Trust me. 

Candy Among the Christians

Download 13.
Download Title, "Barbara Unleashed"

Elsbeth Strikt, Ph.D.
12:05 AM, Thursday August 2nd, 2001
A New Day For Mrs. Robinson

All of the pleadings of the little brat were in vain.  Elizabeth Robinson is
mine now and will be for another three years.  Tonight I have gone a long way
toward breaking her and I will shape her to my will.  She has already discovered
horror beyond her imagining.  I will use that knowledge and develope her fear
into a tool I will tame her with.  You can bet that within a month she will be
sweet, modest and demure.  A perfect little picture of what every teenage girls
should be.  

I looked over at her mother as I chose a four stranded Norcod whip with thongs a
little over two feet long and five knots spaced half an inch apart starting at
the end.  She was, as they say, drunk as a skunk.  The "boys from DOW" must have
been feeding her the stuff pretty steadily as they fucked every oriface in her
body.  Well she will have lots of time to sober up as I whip her ass to ribbons. 
I sang to myself as I cleaned the whip off with rubbing alcohol.  "Hush little
baby by and by.  You know your tushy is going to fry.  All your trials luv, just
beginning."  Her daughter Barbara looks at me with a somewhat puzzled
explanation on her round face.  I explained to her the thirty-nine stroke rule. 
You could not give a "girl" more than 39 lashes of the whip on a given day. 
Mrs. Anne Robinson had received thirty-nine lashes with the whip to her breasts
and pudendum.  But that was yesterday.  "Yesterday, all her troubles seemed so
far way.  Now today she knows they're here to stay for Wendsday was yesterday." 
Yes, it has been Thursday for almost five minutes now.  I have saved her ass,
unmarked for the new day which has just started.

Finally we are alone.  Mrs. Robinson, Barbara Robinson, and me.  All of the
other bozo's are gone at last.  The schedule is mine at last.  There is no rush,
we have all the time in the world.  I hate nothing worse than having to give
pain in a hurry.  Pain should be doled our slowly and carefully and with great
feeling.

I wonder why Barbara is here.  Doesn't Payne trust me.  Do I need to have a
family member here to insure that Mrs. Robinson suffers no more damage than is
mandated.  Does he think I cannot get by without an assistant.  Having worked
for that man for the better part of a decade I still don't understand him.  I
never know what is going on in his head.  He is nothing but a backwoods preacher
with barely a high school education.  An evangelist from the yellow-dog piney
woods of East Texas.  Well I need to get down to business.  Still I would like
for once for him to explain what is really going on.  Babs and her mothem, what
in the hell.


Ms. Barbara Robinson
12:10 AM, Thursday August 2nd, 2001
Punishment Stories

My mom, me and Dr. Strikt, just the three of us.  My mom and Dr. Strikt I
understand.  I have heard about the mosaic 39 lashes rule.  The other girls in
my class may regard me as a goody goody who has never done wrong and who is
constantly currying favor with the teachers but I know about punishments.  I may
have never been punished but I think about punishments a lot.  Funny, dad has
never engaged in home punishments the way the other dads at school do.  I have
heard the stories the other girls have told, generally by eavesdropping.  The
Friday nights when they have had to undress and present their behinds for
punishments.  I found these stories exciting.  The times when their moms have
had to undress in front of them and get their butts spanked.  That image would
always cause me to really get excited.  Finally the occassional story, always
whispered, about the trip that so and so paid with her mom on a Friday afternoon
to the Treatment Room.  At the point where the mother and daughter stripped and
were tied up, the whisper usually got so soft that I could no longer make out
exactly what happened next.  All I could pick up was the occassional giggle. 
Late at night, in my mind, I would lie awake and imagine what happened on Friday
afternoons in the Treatment Room.  I would fantasize about Elizabeth, mom and I
in the treatment room.  With Dr. Strikt. 

Late at night I thought about all the tortures I had read about in the stories
of the early Christian marytrs.  Impaled on stakes stuck into their vagina or
anus and then slowly burned to death.  Or the books about the Reformation where
the poor free thinkers were tortured by the Inquisition in the Low Countries. 
Breasts seared by branding irons, pliers tearing off nipples and crushing your
private parts.  Or what happened when English women on their way to the New
World were captured by the Spanish.  Tied to the mast and whipped and then raped
by a dozen foul smelling men.  Or reading about the harsh life of the early
settlers.  Girls who did not obey had their naked behinds shredded with
switches.  Or captured by wild indians who stripped you and bound you and made
you run for miles through dense forests before they raped you.  And how about
the stories the teachers told about Christian missionaries tortured by
rebellious natives in Africa and by Chinese Communists.  The teacher's would
only hint at the things that were done but even that was exciting.  Enough to
keep me up until late at night as I dreamed and stroked my way into my secret
sins.

But no matter what path my initial fantasies took me, eventually as my inner
parts swelled and my breathing got faster and my heart started racing, and my
hands developed a life of their own, it always boiled down to the same scene. 
Me and mom and Dr. Strikt, just the three of us.  Alone.  Late at night.  And
for once my mom naked and powerless.  

When I heard Rev. Payne, dad and Dr. Strikt talking about the significance of
midnight I caught on real quick.  She had been punished to the limit on
Wendsday.  Stripped and beaten.  Chained for humiliation as a sex toy.  Whipped
until her tits and cunny bled.  That was supposed to be it.  Everybody else, the
blond lady, Patty, my sister would be allowed to rest and recover on Thursday. 
But for my mom, the horror was to continue.  Thurs would not be a slack day. 
Thursday the torment would continue.  And I would have a part in it.  My
excitement was such that I feared I couldn't stand it.  I would go insane or
faint.  Or maybe that shaking and moaning that I have always sought would
finnally come to me with all the vengance I longed for.  It was all up to Dr.
Strikt.


Mrs. Anne Robinson
12:15 AM, Thursday August 2nd, 2001
Yesterday

In a dream world.  That's where I am.  Beaten and fucked then chained and
fucked.  Then beaten some more.  Everything is a blur.  The beer and booze
helped a bit for a while.  Then vomiting and passing out.  Then waking up to
more pain till I passed out from the torment.  Where am I, I don't care.  I am
not really sure anymore who I am.  All I know is that I am slung over this damn
sawhorse with my ass in the air and my head down at about the level of my knees. 
Oh shit.  That is my daughter Barbara that I see when I look out between my
spread legs.  Then I remember, Dr. Strikt is Satan and I am in Hell.  But what
is my daughter doing here.  SHE is singing the beatles song "Yesterday".  I try
to remember yesterday but my mind won't let me see details.  I know there was a
yesterday I just don't know what it was.


Mrs. Candice Butz
12:20 AM, Thursday August 2nd, 2001
Candy Unbound

Out of there.  Safe for now.  Looks like I am in a condo just to the southwest
of the school.  Actually a set of new row houses.  The girls are safe.  They
waited up until I got home.  I put them to bed.  They are in a small bedroom
next to mine.  Bunk bed, two sets of drawers.  Not much else.  But they are safe
and have a roof over their heads.  We are not on the streets.  I am lying on my
belly and Mrs. Brousard is spreading some sort of lotion on my backside. I am so
tired.  Son of a bitch.  Yes, I saw myself in the mirror. Yes, I really am cut
up all for shit back there.  Strips of skin just peeling off.  Damn, that stuff
stings.  But then it feels so good.  What's it called?  Aloe re-leaf.  Made by
some fundamentalists down in the Valley.  Oh God but it feels good!  Now roll
over on my back so she can work my front.  Yeah they really did whip the shit
out of my tits and pussy.  Ohh! that feels good.  They make good shit down in
the valley.  Oh am I tired.  I roll over onto my left side.  That is the part
that is cut and bruised the least.  Draw my knees up.  The girls are safe.  I am
so tired.  Mrs. Broussard is floating a blanket down over me.  At least I have a
job.  My girls have a roof over their heads.  We are not out on the street.  Oh
Alex, I hope you are in heaven.  It is so hard here down on earth.  I am so
tired.  My girls have a roof over their heads.  We will not go hungry.  I am so
tired.  I love you all.


Elsbeth Strikt, Ph.D.
12:25 AM, Thursday August 2nd, 2001
It'll Be A Hard Day's Night

Well, enough lollygagging, time to gain control of the situation.  Sizing up
Barbara comes first.  I call her over to me to gain her attention.  "Young lady,
you are under my direct control now and you are to serve me and the school
without question.  Am I clear."  She looked me in the eye with the vacant gaze
of an Irish setter and said yes.  I continued "Barbara, you have been such a
well behaved girl that you know nothing of disciplinary matters here at school. 
You have never been rebellious or headstrong.  You have never slacked in you
studies or stinted in your athletic efforts.  You have never been immodest with
young men or displayed yourself to them lewdly."  In short, you are about as
naive as can be."  She smiled and nodded at me.  She really didn't understand
where I was going so I tried to further explain, "Furthermore, you father has
not exerted a firm disciplinary hand at home.  This has had little effect on you
although it has had disasterous effects on your mother and sister.  But this
family environment has left you woefully ignorant of disciplinary matters."  She
once again nodded and smiled indicating a happy ignorance.  "Well," I said,
"your ignorance in these matters of disciplinary chastisment is about to come to
an abrupt end.  You are going to assist me in the next stage of your mother's
penance for her grievious transgressions.  You will probably be shocked by what
is about to happen."  She gave a twisted smile and nodded.  Finally I said "I
need to prepare you for what is about to come."  Her face flushed as though she
knew what was to come.  "You have never had the opportunity to learn what
chastisement is all about, what it feels like to be chastised, what it means to
administer discipline.  Are you ready?"  Barbara's face broke out into a grin
that I can only describe as beatific.  I would have been less startled and would
have felt more at ease if she was struck with horror and sorrow.  I was not
exactly prepared for joy.

She looked at me and said "Will you make me undress?"  I nodded.  "Must I
undress completely, until I am naked?" she said.  I replied, "you may leave your
shoes and stockings on, and the bow in you hair so that it doesn't fly around." 
Her smile broadened and she said "Are you going to beat me?" to which I replied
"I am going to teach you what chastisement of the body entails."  Now she was
positively elated.  Her body twitched and twisted with excitement like a five
year old at Christmas as she said "Will you tie me down and whip me, pinch my
pussy lips till they bleed, rip the nipples from my titties, oh will you have me
impaled on a stake till my womb is pierced by the sharp spike that splits my
vagina open."  I stared at her in unbelief, shocked and appalled.  She was
totally losing control of herself.  She was becoming estatic.  "No, my child.  I
am only going to spank your bottom.  Where did you get such ideas!"

She rapidly began to disrobe.  First off came the tie she was so fond of
wearing.  It made her look less silly with her oxford cloth blouse buttoned up
to the top button.  In four years as a teacher at 2nd Evangelical, I don't think
I had ever seen the sternal ends of her collar bones.  Gaily casting aside her
striped tie she unbottoned the sleeves of her blouse and then started rapidly
undoing the buttons down the front of the white blouse.  "Not so fast and
furiously, I told her.  Pick up that tie and place it on the back of the chair. 
I won't have clothing carelessly shed around here."  She complied.  "Now," I
said "first remove the skirt and fold it across the back of the chair".  She
caught onto what I was saying.  I had heard that Barbara was extreme in her
modesty.  The girls told me that she almost undressed in her locker while
getting ready for gym or sports and they never saw her shower.  Her skirts were
long even by the standards of 2nd Evangelical and I had on more than one
occassion seen the flash of a frilled cotton white petticoat rather than a shiny
half slip of synthetic fabric.  Sure enough.  When the long blue skirt came off
it revealed a cotton petticoat.  "OK," I instructed her, "now remove your blouse
and hang it on the chair back."  This part of her disrobing revealed that she
was wearing a bandeau rather than a bra.  This flattened her breasts concealing
the amplitude of her busoms.  An interesting creature.  When she had finished
hanging her blouse I told her to remove her petticoat and fold it across the
metal "card" chair. At least she was accepting her instructions to disrobe in
good order.  There are always those girls who when it comes times to strip prior
to punishment, struggle and sometimes require the assistance of several teachers
to expose them for disciplining.  I intensely dislike such scenes.

As she lowered her petticoat and stepped out of it, Barbara revealed her
greatest surprise to date.  She was wearing an old fashioned girdle!  One with
garters.  I had not seen one of these in the better part of thirty-five years. 
White, elastic with stays and dangling garter straps.  I wonder where she got
that from.  My startled response was quickly picked up on by the girl.  "Oh
this", she remarked, "it flattens my tushy and keeps it from bounding around." 
I couldin't help asking "where on earth did you buy it?"  Non-plussed she
replied "From the Sear's catalogue of course.  Mommy was never home.  I just
copied down her Sear's card number and called it in.  You can get anything from
them.  No questions asked."  I changed the subject to "Well, lets get those
foundation garments off and placed on the seat of the chair".  The bandeau was a
more substantial affair than I expected.  Rather than just being slipped up over
her head it had a whole series of hook and eye fasteners in the back that had to
be unhooked.  This revealed that rather than the A cup we had also viewed
Barbara as, she had rather a generous C cup endowment.  Beautiful breasts with
absolutely no sag.  In my youth I would have killed for such breasts.  And
almost did.  It took her even longer to unfaster her garter hardware and wiggle
out of her very tight girdle.  Her butt seemed to exand at least three or maybe
four inches!  At seeing me stare she turned a beet head flushing not only her
face but her neck and even her chest above those magnificent breasts.  As
expected, Barbara had a quite modest set of white cotton panties.  She caught
the nod of my head and took it to indicate that the panties were to be removed
and place on the seat of the chair joining the bandeau and girdle.

Disrobing down to her shoes and stocking revealed further surprises about
Barbara Robinson.  Not only did she have satisfyingly large breasts and a
voluptuous bottom but her "snatch" had been depiliated and her buttocks had
faint bruises on them.  The hairless pelvic area I could understand.  A goodly
number of the girls shaved their pubes although most of the shavers were either
the socialites who enjoyed showing their wares in string bikinis or the "butch"
athletic set who thrust out their hairless pudenda while strutting naked around
the locker room.  But Barbara belong to neither set.  In fact she belonged to no
set but her own.  Noting my puzzled expression she volunteered "with all the
heavy undergarments I wear, I prefer to be as clean as I can."  I further
probed, "How about the bruised behind, I know that your father has never spanked
either you, your sister or your mother.  No matter how much they deserved it. 
And I know that none of your teachers has ever laid even a hand on your butt. 
Where did the bruises come from."  Barbara blushed again, "Every few days,
before my bath, I try to spank myself, on my behind, with the heaviest belt I
own.  I have a cowboy belt for the Livestock Show and Rodeo.  But it doesn't
work too well.  It is hard to spank yourself.  I have read so much about how
brave so many Christian girls are under torment and torture and I wanted to
prepare myself as well as I could.  That way, if I was ever put to the test, I
would hold up well and so inspire my toturers to become Christians."  Well, I
hadn't seen many ones like this before.  I wonder what this girl's fantasy life
is like.  Perhaps I would find out later.  Right now business had to be attended
to.  I would show this girl what a proper hind-end warming was like and then we
would begin to start striping her mother's behind.  I told Barbara to go and
fetch the heavy strap from the card table upon which rested this evening's
collection of implements of discipline.


Ms. Barbara Robinson
12:30 AM, Thursday August 2nd, 2001
Love Story

I couldn't believe it.  My fantasy come true.  Dr. Strikt, who I have loved in
burning silence for almost three years, loves me.  She is going to subject me to
chastisement and then we, together, will punish my mother for all of the wicked
sins she has comitted.  At first, when Dr. Strikt started talking about my lack
of disciplianry experience, I had a hard time figuring out where she was going. 
Eventually, she got around to it.  She was going to give me disciplinary
experience and then I was going to help her.  My heart almost stopped, then it
began to race.  I flushed over all my body.  And my private parts began to sweat
in a way I have never known.  It was all that I could do to keep my hands off of
them.  I wanted to die and I wanted to sing.  I was in love!

When she told me strip my fingers couldn't move fast enough.  But she made me
slow down, carefully remove my garments and fold them on a nearby chair.  Her
eyes ravished every inch of my body as it was exposed.  She made me go slowly so
that the pleasure of stripping me was prolonged and intensified.  When I removed
my breast flattener and my nipples hit the air, they immediately became erect,
such was my excitement.  After I took off my girdle I swung my ass from side to
side to feel it wiggle and I watched Dr. Strikt's pupils widen.  As I walked
over to get the strap is swung my body around to feel my ass and tits bounce and
I gloried in my freedom.  When she said she was only going to give me a taste of
the strap I fell on my knees in front of her, grasped her around the thighs, and
pressed my sobbing face into her stomach.  "Please," I cried "do not leave me
unfullfilled.  I love you, I love you despirately, I have loved you for years. 
Do not leave me empty.  Do it to me with your full heart.  Spank my behind until
it glows red and your hand can take no more.  I will stand still, holding my
ankles for you.  I will not flinch.  Please do not spare me. Strap until my butt
is purple.  Then bend me over the chair and please, please use the switch on me. 
Cane me until the skin is stripped off.  I will only cry with joy and scream
with please.  But, oh, please don't neglect me.  Love me. Flog me."  Dr. Strikt
was stunned and turned ashen pale.  But eventually she recovered her composure
and realize that I had not lost my mind but was serious.

She assented.  She sat down on another chair and bade me lie across her lap from
right side to left.  Then she took her right hand and began to alternately slap
the globes of my buttocks.  It was then that I experienced my first orgasm.  I
had heard other girls talk about "cuming" and "orgasm" and "earth shakers" and
"climax" but never knew what they meant.  At night I had fondled my genitals
while dream of Dr. Strikt and the torments she would heap upon me and the
torture the two of us would inflict on mother.  But the pleasure I got from
those midnight fumblings was nothing compared with the vibratory sensation
coming from my privates and spreading throughout my body.  I felt a clenching of
muscles inside my pelvis that my autoerotic manipulations never before
triggered.  I was actually shaking and then broke out in a sweat.  I shook so
much that I think I actually scared Dr. Strikt for a minute.  She stopped
spanking me with her hand and asked if I was OK.  I said, please, please spank
me some more.  She did, but it was not long enough or hard enough.  I wanted
more.


Elsbeth Strikt, Ph.D.
12:45 AM, Thursday August 2nd, 2001
Orgasm and Beyond

I think I have some sort of a wierd masochist on my hands.  I have seen quite a
few female orgasms in my days.  Women are much harder to judge than men.  They
don't just tense, thrust and ejaculate.  And then go to sleep.  There is an
enormous variability in the female orgasm and I fancy I have seen them all.  You
see, you have to look for a woman's orgasm.  You have to get inside her mind and
figure out what really turns her on.  And do it, and ride it, and prolong it. 
But I had never actually seen another one like Barbara's when I spanked her. 
Whew! 

As she lay, somewhat spent, across my lap, I realized that I had something very
unusual here,  something rare, something precious, something that would have to
be developed carefully.  I would have to muster all my talents, knowledge and
sensitivity and pour them into this seventeen year-old child/wanton.  I could
spend a decade exploring her and enlarging her talents.  A lifetime.

But I gave her a final rousing slap and lifted her up out of my lap.  "Come," I
said to her, "You must learn to give chastisement and then perhaps you can
receive some more.  And very sensitively give and very carefully receive."  Her
mother awaited.  I was going to take a chance.  I quickly stripped to my shoes
and stocking, revealing my flat and scarred chest.  I would be frank and honest
with my young Barbara.  I said, "Together we will give your mother what she
deserves."  I suspect those words shocked her but soon a bright fire gleamed in
Barbara's eyes.  I got out another Norcod 4/26/5 whip, gave it to the girl and
took her over to Mrs. Robinson's side.  "Watch what I say and do, I will
instruct you in the fine art of whipping ass that is bent over the horse.  They
are many subtle points ot be learned.  But a proper ass whipping may be the
single most devestating thing you can do to a woman.  You can destroy her or
drive her insane.  You can render her unconscious in a short order.  Or you can
bring her extemes of pain just to the edge of unbearability.  And stop.  And
then again to the greatest exteme.  And stop.  And once again to the edge.  And
stop.  This we will attempt to do to your mother.  Are you up to it."  Barbara
nodded assent.

Ms. Barbara Robinson
1:00 AM, Thursday August 2nd, 2001
Whipping My Mother

We were going to whip my mother.  We were really going to whip my mother.  We
were.  All my life I have waited for this.  It was actually going to happen. 
She was spread out over the sturdiest sawhorse I have ever seen.  It was made
from heavier lumber than the ones I have seen construction workers around the
house use.  And it had braces around the bottom.  And of course the ones that
the mexican workers used didn't have ropes and straps to tie you down with.  And
mom was not just stood over this horse the way you lean over a chair.  Her ass
was actually the highest point.  The front of her hips and not just her stomach
was atop the cross piece.  She was fastened to the legs at both the ankles and
the knees so that her thighs were almost parallel to the cross piece.  Her
wrists were bound way down on the legs so that her upper body and head dangled
down.  The position must have been unbelievably uncomfortable with her ass in
the air and her head down and her legs spread and her pussy waving out there in
the breeze.  I chuckled to myself.  As we walked up to her with our whips in our
hands, Dr. Strikt and I, I giggled like a little girl.  I looked at Dr. Strikt
and I just busted out the biggest grin of my life.  I was in heaven.

I may have been euphoric but Dr. Strikt was deadly serious.  "Properly whipping
a woman's ass is one of the most difficult things you can ever do.  It does not
require much strength but it does require great contol, and surprising
sensistivity.  It is not simply the stripping of epidermis from dermis and
lacerating the dermis until blood flows.  Although these things can happen in a
severe whipping.  And this will be a severe whipping.  It is gaining the
attention of the woman to be chastised, directing her attention and focusing her
mind.  For when one woman whips another woman it is the sublime sexual act that
makes heterosexual intercourse look like the primitive grinding of organs that
it is.  This is particuarly true in the case of your mother.  Her sexual
apparatus has been pushed into overload this evening by the melange of men who
have penetrated her beyond even her comprehension.  For she is not a whore, she
is a slut. And like a slut she will be punished.  In whipping her, we will not
only torment the skin of her buttocks and thighs, we will also torture the skin
of her pussy.  When we are done any touch to the most sensitive parts of her
body will bring only pain for at least a month to come.  And if the Rev. Payne
has his way, and he usually does, your mother's bottom with be the site of
unspeakable pain for months to come.  Consider just how serious this is."

At this point Dr. Strikt did something that shocked me.  She got down on her
knees and slid between my mother's splayed legs until her face was litterally in
my mothers crotch.  Dr. Strikt began to kiss and lick the raw skin of my
mother's labia and suckle and tongue her battered clitoris.  At first my mother
remained as semiconcious as she had been for the last hour.  Then she began to
move her hips around and finally began to moan.  She was obviously being turned
on by the first fairly gentle genital stimulation she had received all night. 
Then I noticed that Dr. Strikt was also stroking, slowly and lightly, my
mother's welted breasts, starting at the edges and working in towards her
lacerated nipples.  Dr Strikt was arousing my mother.  I had always heard talk
about women going down on women and I know that some of the girls at 2nd
Evangelical swung that way.  And not just the ones on the field hockey team. 
Some girls went only with girls and others, including a few homecoming queen
types, were known to swing both ways.  There always been rumors about Dr.
Strikt.  About her and teachers.  About her and students.  About her and
mothers.  But I never really believed any of those rumors because I adored Dr.
Strikt.  Now I saw her sexually toying with my own mother.  And I found the
sight exciting.

Then swiftly it happened.  Just as my mother's movement started to become active
and she really began to get into it, Dr. Strikt got out from under her and took
a stance by mom's left side.  Back came the whip wielding right arm and down it
shrilly whistled.  The sound of plastic coated multi-stranded copper wire
hitting flesh was suprising muted.  I expected a loud crack but the sound was
more like a flat THRIPPP.  And a shattering scream.  The knotted ends of the
lampcord struck just beyond the far right cheek of my mother's buttock and
whipped around striking the flank of her butt.  The unknotted portions of the
whip struck directly on both cheeks of her ass.  As Dr. Strikt withdrew the whip
you could see four red strips clean across mom's ass and 20 red spots on the
side of her hip.  At first you didn't get much of a chance to think about it
because the scream that issued from my mother's mouth was so blood curdling that
it erased every thought from your brain.  I just stood there and watched as the
middle portion of my mom's body slammed up and down against the crossbar and her
head bobbed up and down.  After mom's thrashing and screaming abated a bit, Dr.
Strikt hit her again, just as far across but a little lower on the buttock and
hip.  This blow came as less of a surprise but mom still put on a pretty good
show.  The third stroke surprised me, not in its timing but in its placement. 
Dr. Strikt aimed it so that the knotted ends of the lampcords landed and curled
directly onto my mother's vulvar region.  On to those pussy lips that had early
been beated with a whip and then pounded by multiple rapes and finally caressed
by Dr. Strikt's lips.  My mom literally went crazy.  The rest of the whip
strands made marvelous marks across the skin that formed the juncture between
the globes of mom's buttocks and her hips but it was the crotch shot by those
cruel knotted ends that did the job.  My mom bellowed and screamed, cried and
moaned for at least five minutes.  I have to admit that I was dumfounded. 
Slowly, my own arousal crept though the mental haze of screaming and thrashing. 
Before I realized it, I found myself transferring my whip from my right hand to
my left and using my right index and middle finger to frig my slit.  Then Dr.
Strikt, ignoring my masturbation, told me to stand on mom's right and apply the
same strokes, two across and one to the crack, except from the opposite side.

Having just been caught fingering myself I was highly embarrassed although the
concept that my arousal was due to the torture of my mother escaped me at the
time.  Suddenly, holding the whip in my right hand I felt enormously clumsy.  I
stared at the welts developing on mom's buttocks and realized that I would have
to wield the whip backhanded.  As I fidgeted there trying to adjust my footing I
noticed that the places where the knotted ends of the cords swung around caused
hideous welts four times as big as the welts from the smooth portions of the
cords.  And those welts weren't red, they were rapidly turning purple.  Nasty. 
And since there were five knots in each cord and four cords, there were about
twenty bruises forming where each blow of the whip had struck, already almost
two score on the hip on my side.  This was going to be a devastating whipping. 
Dr. Strikt saw my discomfort and reassuringly coached me.    "Take it smooth and
easy Barbara.  Turn your body to the left.  Gently swing your right arm over
your left shoulder. When I say so swing your body and your arm over to the
right.  Now!"  The whip whistled out through the air and struck skin with a
thripp-thunk.  My mom howled but not as wildly as when Dr. Strikt hit her.  I
hit a good deal higher up with my first blow than Dr. Strikt did.  The ends of
my whip hit halfway across the back at the waist.  "Very good" soothed Dr.
Strikt.  "Remember that exact  placement takes time to develop".  Reassured I
wound up again and delivered a second blow, this one a bit more forceful.  Mom
gave a bigger howl with this one which landed straight across the buttocks.  Dr.
Strikt advised that I should not try for a pussy shot at this stage in my
training.  So the next one I just delivered low across the buttocks.  Again I
elicited I moderate howl from my mom. 

Dr. Strikt suggested that we now change sides.  Now she proceeded to whip my mom
from the right side.  I had to admire how smoothly and accurately she did it.  I
was also awestruck at the damage the whip was doing to mom's butt and thighs. 
The spots where the knots at the end of the strands of the whip hit were now
purple and sort of blistered.  And when these spots got hit again, either with
the smooth part of the cord or with a knot the swollen skin was torn and bled. 
I never imagined that such a thing could happen.  And I suspect that neither did
my mother since she screamed like a wild animal in pain every time Dr. Strikt
struck her.  After three blows from the right side by Dr. Strikt mom's butt was
oozing blood from a dozen spots.  And the third stroke from the right featured
the tips of the whip cords hitting the vulvular area again.  This caused mom to
scream so hard she became hoarse.  Now it was my turn.  Now that I was striking
forward with my whip, rather than backhanded across my body I could really lay
my whip into mom.  Her thighs were relatively unmarked and so I concentrated my
effort there.  I hit her twice across the middle part of both thighs and for my
third and last strike I aimed for the inner aspect of her left thigh.  I got the
end of the whip to curl right into the inside, striking one of the most
sensitive spots on the whole body.  I was elated and mom fainted!  I felt a rush
and a thrill like I had never experienced before.  I was finally having my
revenge for all those years of being ignored.  All those years of being the ugly
duckling.  All those years of being the middle sister who never got credit for
doing anything right.  All those of always being wrong.  Well this ugly duckling
has become a swan.  And a swan is a mean bird that can inflict a lot of damage. 
There you go girl, you knocked her right into tomorrow.

Elsbeth Strikt, Ph.D.
1:25 AM, Thursday August 2nd, 2001
Bloodlust

 I had never seen anyone like Barbara.  I have probably conducted over the years
a thousand or so schoolgirl chastisements and possibly a hundred mothers have
been punished under my hand.  Most of the girls were trembling at the prospect
of being disciplined by me.  A few affected arrogance in the face of what was
coming.  That of course quickly changed after the first few strokes, as first
the tears came, next the gasping, then the full fledged crying and in the end
screams, howls and wailing.  A small number of girls took it stoically,
accepting the inevitable and being beaten like dumb beats of burden.  Bravado
was more common among the mothers.  The attitude of "I'm a grown woman, who's
afraid of a little spanking".  It was fun to break their hauteur, reducing them
to sniffling, crying little girls pleading for mercy.  There were a vanishingly
small number of girls and only a few mothers in which I detected a suggestion of
true sexual arousal under chastisement.  I have seen less than a dozen mothers
climax while undergoing severe punishment.  I am fond of manipulating a woman's
sensitive parts prior to applying a disciplinary implement.  However, sexual
excitement usually melts when the real pain starts.  I can't say that I
encountered many females who looked forward to a session with me in the
treatment room.  Barbara was the first.

My experiences were similar on the opposite end of a caning.  Most ladies, when
confronted with the necessity of administering disciple approached it with a bit
of reluctance.  Particularly when they realized that the alternative was more
severe chastisement for themselves.  Patty is your average example.  Competent
with a belt or switch but not enthusiastic.  She certainly doesn't enjoy it like
me.  Barbara is different.  For me, there is nothing like the sight and sound of
a riding crop striking a swollen nipple or a switch hitting an engorged
clitoris.  I like nothing more than whipping someone's butt and thighs until the
outermost skin peels off the purple bruises.  My nipples tense, my genitals
become turgid and my pussy juices run when a girl screams for mercy.  I love
nothing more than sitting next to a woman I have just beaten the consciousness
out of  and frigging myself to orgasm.  Barbara came very close to orgasm when
whipping her mother.  And she was obviously looking forward to it.  She did it
with lust.  As the whip made contact with bruised and blistered areas drawing
blood, she was panting.  And not with the exertion.  She loves administering a
whipping.  I had to strop her when the twelfth stroke of the session was
administered and literally peel her off her mother or I think Barbara would have
whipped her mother to death.  I have something rare in that girl.  She has the
combination of the erotic and the sado-masochistic that I find irresistible.

After the 1 AM whipping was over.  I guided the wild-eyed Barbara over to a
chair and sat her down.  I explained that I was going to teach her how to bring
a woman to the fulfillment of her sexual potential.  I knelt down between her
knees and began to lightly lick her already erect nipples.  As the stimulated
teats became even more swollen I began to suck them while starting to massage
her breasts.  She exploded into an ecstasy of moans, whimpers and panting while
squeezing me with her legs.  I progressive squeezed her breasts harder and
harder as my teeth bit into her nipples.  Barbara began to scream and her body
went totally tense.  After she finished her climax I moved my attentions to her
nether regions.  First I applied my tongue to her clitoris and its hood.  Then I
licked her inner labia.  Finally I began flicking my tongue in and out of her
vaginal orifice.  I will have to have a serious talk with this girl about the
state of her hygiene.  At the time I was surprised to find that her hymen was
intact although now that I think of it her use of an external pad rather than a
tampon is consistent with her reactionary character.  As her genital tissues
became engorged, I worked more with my lips and teeth.  I brought her to her
second orgasm in under ten minutes by nibbling on her clitoris at an extremely
rapid rate.  She slumped back exhausted in her chair rubbing my head and softly
saying, "I love you Dr. Strikt" over and over again.


Elsbeth Strikt, Ph.D.
1:45 AM, Thursday August 2nd, 2001
Boob Job

I explained to Barbara that now it was her turn to pleasure me.  She started to
kiss my nipples but was puzzled by my lack of breast tissue and the scars all
over my chest.  Since it appeared that we were to become true lovers, I decided
to tell her the story.  Twenty-five years ago I was a graduate student in New
York.  At that time I still did not understand the nature of my sexuality and I
was very uncertain of my body and its responses.  I wanted to be a girl that
young men lusted after and would give anything to possess.  But the only man who
expressed any interest in me was a resident in surgery at Cornell Downstate
named Dr. Shinezall.  In particular I was ashamed of the small, A cup sized
breasts on my skinny body.  I thought that if my boobs were bigger I could make
a slave of any man I wanted to.  Well the long and the short of it was that in
exchange for free use of my body, however and whenever he wanted it, Dr.
Shinezall would fix my breasts.  Now this was before the days of breast implants
but he had read about some early efforts at breast enlargement out in California
by injection of silicone.  So he got some medical grade silicone OMDS monomer,
mixed in so acetic acid and benzoyl peroxide and injected it in.  I went from an
A cup to a B cup and Dr. Shinezall fucked me, buggered me and deep throated me
to his heart's content.  And I remained as unattractive to other men as a B cup
as I had been as an A cup.  Then the trouble started.  My breasts became hard,
hot and red.  Lumps developed all throughout them and I started running a
temperature and getting night sweats.  As I became sicker, her became more
worried.  Finally be began to talk to some people that knew more about materials
science than he did.  My body was reacting to the silicone he injected.  He told
me not to worry.  He said that my body would wall the silicone off and that the
only problem would be that my newly enlarged breasts would be stiff and lumpy. 
Besides, he said, my breasts had now swollen even larger.  They were about C up
size although they were so painful that I couldn't wear a bra.  Shinezall
laughed and said that my big red breasts were sexy.  He said that I might have a
little bit of an infection and gave me some antibiotics.

  I got progressively sicker, running high fevers and loosing weight.  Finally I
went to see a real doctor who put me into the hospital and ran a bunch of tests
on me including a breast biopsy.  The report that came back from the pathologist
said I had granulomatous panniculitis.  Apparently when the silicone was
injected into the fatty tissue in the back of the breast, my body thought that
the silicone was microorganisms that cause tuberculosis and started attackjng
the silicone.  I had something that was as nasty as tuberculosis of the breast. 
But you can't kill silicone with antibiotics.  Every bit of it had to come out. 
It took three episodes of hospitalization and six operations over five years to
get it out.  I sued the hospital where Dr. Shinezall was doing his residency but
got only enough to barely cover the cost of my medical care.  He got kicked out
of his surgery residency and did a residency in Dermatology.  I lost what little
boob I had and ended up with a mess of scars on my chest. 

Barbara had been listening intently and was profoundly moved by my story.  As I
finished she began to weep and gently kissed my nipples.  I held her head to my
chest and I began to cry, our mutual tears running down between the two of us. 
Then I kissed her and she responded.  We clenched each other, lips locked for
what seemed an eternity until Barbara broke away and said "Let me pleasure you
to wipe away the pain of memory".  Then she went down between my legs.  I have
never had cunnilingus like that.  So gentle, so tender, so loving.  She brought
me to my climax so slowly, building the stimulation and manipulation with
sensitivity you just don't expect from a 17 year old virgin.  I can love this
girl for the rest of my life. 


Mrs. Anne Robinson
2:00 AM, Thursday August 2nd, 2001
A Mother's Nightmare

As I began to recover consciousness, I raised my head and looked at the clock on
the wall.  It took quite a while for my eyes to focus but eventually I began to
understand that it was probably two o'clock.  Then I had to figure out, was it
AM or PM.  Finally I decided that it was probably 2 AM, probably Thursday.  OK. 
Now, where am I.  White walls, white ceiling, white tile floor.  OK, I've been
here before.  This is the fucking Treatment Room and I am draped over that
fucking whipping horse.  My head is throbbing because I have been in a head down
position for what must be at least two hours.  And I had a lot to drink last
night.  There are a lot of gaps there but I think that somebody poured several
cans of beer down me.  And a bottle of Scotch or two.  Oh, what a God-damned
headache.  I adjusted my hips which were atop the crosspiece of the horse and
that triggered the pain.  Oh SHIT, it feels like my insides have been ripped
out, rearranged, and not too carefully stuffed back in.  As I attempt to focus I
can begin to differentiate pain from my asshole from pain in my vagina.  My cunt
lips also hurt.  And my ass is also on fire.  Though the throbbing pain of an
emerging hangover I recall I got fucked last night.  And Fucked.  And FUCKED!  I
can't remember how many guys at least a dozen or so.  And those big-dicked
Haitians. Up the ass.  OH SHIT.  I move my head around to survey the room.  Oh I
shouldn't do that, it hurts too much.  But I hear my daughter Babs and another
female voice.  OH FUCK  There is my daughter making out with, OH SHIT, she is
making out with that horrible Dr. Strikt.  Babs is gammahuching the dark lady. 
They are cuddling together.  Now I remember the whipping.  The incredible
ripping of the skin off my back.  What the fuck is coming off here.  I hang my
head and the darkness returns. 


Ms. Barbara Robinson
2:30 AM, Thursday August 2nd, 2001
Finis

I lay there in her arms for what seemed like an eternity.  I was happy for the
first time in my life.  Dr. Strikt was for me what my mother never was, someone
who loved me and understood my needs.  I yawned.  I looked lovingly at Dr.
Strikt and she beamed back at me.  Then I got off my chest what was bothering me
"Dr. Strikt, I think we need to get back to work on my mother, we still have a
lot of whipping to do."  Dr. Strikt got up and went over to my mom, fastened
over the whipping horse.  She raised up mom's head by the hair and stared at out
of focus eyes that didn't stare back.  Dr. Strikt passes her free hand back and
forth in front of mom's face.  My mother's eyes didn't follow Dr. Strikt's hand. 
"Honey, this here bitch is just whipped to a frazzle" remarked Dr. Strikt.  It
was funny to hear a Southern drawl overlaid on a nasal New York twang.  She
continued "We have beaten her about as much as is useful, any more strokes and
we are just shredding skin on an ass that just isn't feeling it.  Why don't we
let her recover.  After a couple of days she will be in a condition where we can
whip her again.  I think that your daddy is going to leave her in our loving
hands for a long time."

Dr. Strikt and I got dressed.  However, Dr. Strikt took my bandeau and girdle
and threw them in the trash.  "I like you natural" she said.  Then we went over
and dealt with my mom.  Dr. Strikt gave my mother the shot that Dr. Shinezall
had left for her.  Apparently a mix of antibiotics, sedatives and stimulants
that was banned by the FDA, the AMA, the Texas Medical Association and the Dept.
of Agriculture.  I helped Dr. Strikt unstrap mom from the horse and we got her
into her skirt, blouse and jacket.  With a sneer Dr. Strikt disposed of mom's
panties and bustier. "I don't think she will be needing these for a while", she
remarked.  "I have a lot to teaching you about chastisements but I think you
will be the finest pupil I have ever had".  I smiled and hugged her.  "But never
forget how strict I am.  You may have to undergo a lot of disciplinary
training."  I beamed and hugged her again.

With one of us under each arm we walked mom through the maze of rooms and over
to the elevator.  I enquired as to what we were going to do with her.  Dr.
Strikt indicated that we would put her in the condo's that had just been
renovated into dormitory rooms.  Apparently this was part of the property
transfer done just before Genron crashed.  She also had rooms over there and I
could stay with her for the next few days.

It was looking like the beginning of a wonderful friendship. 

Candy Among the Christians

Download 14.
Download Title, "Finale - Candice Triumphant"

A Long Chapter But An Ending Wherein All Loose Ends Are Tied Up, Evil Punished,
Good Rewarded, And Happiness Is Found By All (Well Almost All).


Mrs. Candice Butz
7:00 AM, Friday August 3rd, 2001
Coffee With My Girls

What a difference a few days makes.  Tuesday, drunk out of my mind, I buried my
billionaire bankrupt husband and faced the prospect of being thrown out on the
street within a day or so.  Wednesday I was offered a teaching job that offered
a way out of my dilemma.  But then I had the shit beaten out of me and was raped
in every orifice of my body that would admit a cock.  Thursday I slept all day. 
This morning I have a roof over my head, food on the table for my daughters and
a cup of coffee placed into my hand by Mrs. Broussard.  Over the years I come to
realize that such is life.

"Girls, I want you to listen to your mother.  This is the first chance I have
had to have a serious talk with you since your father died."  That's how I begin
my speech to my daughters.  "Kim and Ashley, with the death of your father we
are facing very uncertain times.  Honestly, Alex and I have been very negligent
parents.  Frankly we have let you grow up spoiled and wild, especially the last
couple of years."  I could see that my words were having all the impact of a
battery-powered fan in a hurricane.  "Hello, hello, Earth to Kim, Earth to
Ashley, come in please."  I waved my hand at the two vacant faces staring at me
across the butcher block kitchen table.  This elicited a response from the
thirteen year old Ashley, "Howcum we don't got any fuckin' TV.  We have been
here since wen'day nite and no fuckin' TV.  Wha is this a fuckin' jail or
sumthin?" she mumbled.  Her older sister Kim was less verbal, just sitting there
and sullenly staring off into space.  I don't think a single word I was saying
was registering on these adolescent minds.  I tried a simpler approach.  "Girls,
we have been here two days and you have to start learning the rules!  If you
have not cleaned your room by the time I get back there will be all hell to
pay."  They yawned and stumbled off to a room they now had to share.

I shifted my weight on the wooden chair and all hell erupted in my backside. 
This was the first time I have sat in two days.  My butt just reminded me that,
due to the beatings it had endured, it had seceded from the rest of my body.  It
would support no contact with any surface whatsoever.  It was noisily expressing
its discontent at the abuse I was heaping on it by sitting down.  I spent all of
yesterday lying prone in bed.  This didn't make my bruised breasts happy.  I
tried to support them by placing one pillow and a forearm above my bosom and
another pillow and forearm below my bosom in an effort to keep my chest off the
bed.  This was of minimal relief.  I spent at least a couple of hours soaking in
tepid water in the tub in the morning, again in the afternoon and again in the
evening.  Mrs. Brousard helped with her Aloe Re-Leaf ointment, ramen noodle soup
and Motrim.  But I spent the entire day in quite a bit of pain.  Today was
better but I still felt beaten-to-shit, which is exactly what I am.  However,
today I need to meet with His Majesty, Rev. Max Payne at 9:00 AM.  That is why I
am sitting here in my bathrobe snarfing up coffee in an attempt to get my shit
together and get over to the school.

Mrs. Broussard managed to make it out of our old house with two suitcases of my
stuff.  And she made sure that the girls made it out each carrying two bags of
their stuff which they referred to as their shit.  Some times they are so
expressive.  Not much to show for a decade of life married to one of the richest
men in the world.  But the vultures were remorseless.  I realize that there are
bankruptcy laws designed to protect the personal effects of people overcome by
financial disaster.  But try explaining that to a Federal judge who has just
lost half of his retirement account.  Worse is the Sheriff's Deputy who has just
watched the fund he has been short selling on credit card money go into the
tank.  Due process, RUBBISH!  I am amazed that Mrs. Broussard got the girls out
alive through that mob.  Well one advantage of us all being together at 2nd
Evangelical is that clothing requirements will be limited to the girl's uniforms
and my dark skirts and pastel blouses.  No need for frantic back to school
shopping at the Galleria.  Not that we could afford it on my income.  Boy, oh
boy, oh boy are the girls unprepared for the change coming in their lifestyle. 
Ashley was not far off in her "Prison" comment.  We are in a debtors prison. 
Luxurious compared to those of Dicken's day but still not far off.  Seeking
sanctuary in a Fundamentalist prison for the financial insanities of our beloved
Alex.


Ms. Francine Belt
8:30 AM, Friday August 3rd, 2001
An Interview With Rev. Payne

My talk with Rev. Payne went just about as I expected.  I have known him for
many years since I was a student at 2nd Evangelical.  We had talked about
teaching many times while I was a student at Hometown Bible University.  And
having been a student at 2nd Evangelical I knew about disciplinary procedures
having had my share of strappings from the teachers and even a few trips to the
basement for a "twitch with the switch".  I do have to admit that I was a little
taken aback with the level of discipline currently being imposed on the teachers
which is more severe than that which the girls endure.  As a student you always
think that the teachers have it so much better than you did.  We girls knew
about the Treatment Room.  But I traveled with what was a pious and prissy crowd
and none of us had ever been to the Treatment Room.  It was more or less just a
distant dark threatening cloud that hung over all of us but which never rained
on any of my friends.  Kind of like herpes, HIV, the IRS and gum disease.  Girls
that had been there just didn't talk about it with us.  I now realized that most
of the trips to the Treatment Room were made by adults - teachers and in the
last couple of years, mothers.

Mothers, that was the other shock.  Five year ago we didn't have the current
"Maternal Responsibility Policy" wherein mothers get punished for the misdeeds
of their daughters.  I can see a lot of advantages to this.  Getting your ass
pounded along side your daughter will go a long way towards minimizing the
"Drive-By Parenting" that was so common when I was in high school.  The girls in
the 'fast crowd' in those days had mothers that were totally wrapped up in their
social lives.  It tended to be the fathers who were insistent that their
daughters go to 2nd Evangelical to get 'straightened out'.  Subjecting the
mothers to corporal punishment will really get some maternal attention.  But how
will I go about caning someone fifteen years older than me?

Well, now is the time for my meeting with Dr. Strikt.  As a student she always
scared the beejeezus out of me.  Once I graduated and went to HBU she seemed
much less formidable and when I decided to major in education she became almost
friendly.  It was while talking with her that I decided to give teaching a 2nd
Evangelical a try.  Well, now she is going to show me the ropes.  Speaking of
ropes and other matters!  My major concern is the twenty-five pounds I put on
while at HBU.  I known what sticklers both Rev. Payne and Dr. Strikt are about
fat.  You can bet every last stroke of the switch that she will dedicate a
certain amount of her attention to getting me to slim down.  And I know what her
solution is to every problem.


Mrs. Candice Butz
9:00 AM, Friday August 3rd, 2001
Another Interview With Rev. Payne

Same office, same receptionist as two days ago.  But this time I am punctual to
the tick of the clock.  And this time dressed a little differently.  Rather than
a hot pink miniskirt and a low cut blouse under a tight jacket, I am dressed in
the modest fashion expected of a 2nd Evangelical teacher.  Well sort of.  I have
on a fully-buttoned-up, French blue, long-sleeved, oxford cloth blouse with a
dark blue paisley scarf under the collar.  My navy blue pencil skirt reaches
well below my knee.  The fabric is a mix of synthetics that has a bit more give
than is probably appropriate for this place but I like to show off my curves. 
My skirt is just a tiny little bit snug but it is still loose enough that it
slides easily over my half slip.  And a light weight, loose, flowing medium blue
blousy jacket with padded shoulders.  Almost like a caftan, it is long enough so
that it reaches about to mid thigh.  My glorious blond hair is pulled back into
a rather severe bun.  Thank God for Mrs. Broussard.  While I lay in bed on
Thursday recuperating, she went out and got me some clothes suitable for this
job.  Actually, this is an outfit that would have induced severe nausea in Mrs.
Candy Genron, "TACKY, UGLY, BARF".  But Mrs. Genron is dead and I am Mrs.
Candice Butz.  And I am not wearing a bra.  My breasts are so swollen that they
don't easily fit into any of my existing bras.  And my boobies are so bruised
and painful that trying to stuff them into a tight bra is not even worth
contemplating.  Ditto for the buns.  The very thought of wearing panties is too
agonizing to contemplate.  My perineum is so bruised that it is still painful to
pee.  Even my bruised thighs protested against wearing thigh-hi's.  Fortunately,
the skirt was long enough so that I could wear knee-hi nylons.  And the shoes,
oh yes, the shoes.  After having been strung up on my toes for so long on Wens,
about the only thing I could get into in the way of a dress shoe was a total
flat.  A Bass Wejun.  Boy oh boy I must really look like shit.  This morning the
bags under my eyes were still so severe that I could barely cover them up with
makeup.  Well, at least you can say that I do not resemble the slut that
everybody says I truly am.  I doubt that today I could turn on a horny horned
toad.  


Rev. Maximilian Payne
9:05 AM, Friday August 3rd, 2001
The Beautiful Mrs. Butz

Oh my Lord.  She was a beautiful sight when she strode into my office.  Candy
had been transformed into Candice.  Her clothes just flowed over her.  That
jacket tries to conceal her charms but I can see the sexy way that her breasts
and ass move under the light cloth.  I notice that she is not wearing a bra and
her breasts jiggle provocatively with every step she takes.  She gives me an
instant erection.  After Francine, that lump of pig fat that Dr. Strikt insists
on hiring, Candice is a fawn in the forest.

I inquire as to how she is faring after being subjected to Dr. Strikt's tender
attention on Wednesday.  She says that it was hard to bear but that anything can
be endured when the goal is 2nd Evangelical.  I tell her that she doesn't have
to sit if she doesn't want to.  She gratefully remains standing.  I request to
see how bad an effect the punishment was.  She daintily removes her jacket,
skirt and half slip and folds them over a chair.  Walking over directly to where
I am sitting she turns around and lifts up the tail of her blouse.  The cuts and
bruises indicate the enthusiasm with which Dr. Strikt always applies to any
disciplinary task.  I say that it looks as if it will be several weeks before
Mrs. Butz will be able to sit with comfort and she agrees.  I enquire as to how
the rest of her is faring.  She turns around and unbuttons her blouse.  The
sight of her bruised breasts and lacerated nipples is almost more than I can
bear.  Tears run down from my eyes.  This is partially from my sympathy with her
battered condition.  And partially because my erection, the largest I have had
in almost a decade, is caught in the leg hole of my jockey shorts.  Then she
notes that I am uncomfortable and asks if there is anything she can do to help.

What happened over the next hour and a half beggars my abilities to describe. 
The houris of Islam were probably trained by Candice Butz.  She knelt down and
unbuckled my belt with her hands while she unbuttoned my pants and lowered my
zipper with her teeth.  I will never know how she did that.  Then she fished out
my penis and began to kiss the tip, retracting the foreskin with her mouth while
her fingers tickled my testicles.  With her tongue she cleaned the last particle
of smegma from in back of the glans.  Then she did things to the head and the
area of the shaft covered by the retracted foreskin with her mouth that I didn't
think possible.  I just remember teeth, tongue, lips, the space underneath the
tongue, cheeks, and her uvula.  I can't remember exactly what she was doing with
them but I recall that she used every part of her oral anatomy on me.  All the
while she was massaging my prostate with her right hand and massaging the
follicles of my scrotum with the other hand.  Then she was rubbing the shaft of
my penis between her breasts while kissing the tip of the glans and somehow
inserting her tongue into my urethral meatus.  I didn't think that that was
anatomically possible.  But she found a way.  Then the deep throating!  She went
on like this for what had to be a half an hour, backing off whenever I started
coming close to a climax.  I knew it was at least a half an hour because Patty
called me at 9:30.  Ordinarily, she knows better than to interrupt me when I am
interviewing a lady, but she said it was of the highest urgency.  I told her
that unless God called, I was not to be disturbed until I told her it was OK. 
Just take a message.  In fact, if God called, He was only to be put through if
He was announcing that the end of the world was 15 minutes away.  Have you ever
been on the brink of an orgasm for half an hour?

 Then she took me into her pussy.  Actually I recall that my boner, swollen to a
size larger than it had ever been in my life, was sucked into her.  She must
have had rollers in her cunt because I swear they were rolling up my cock, from
the base to the head.  And she had one hand up my ass massaging my prostate
while the other fondled my balls.  I have been treated like that only once
before in my life.  Her name was Cunagonde.  It was almost thirty years ago.  I
was young and full of spunk and vinegar.  I was an itinerant preacher doings
revivals up and down US 59 throughout East Texas.  She was young, and she was
beautiful and I have never fucked anything like that before or since.  I wonder
what became of her.  All at once I was twenty years old again.  As I ejaculated
I screamed "CUNAGONDE" and I shot jism as I haven't done in decades.  I must
have blown a quart into Candice.  As she felt me climaxing she squeezed my
prostate and milked something somewhere deep inside my pelvis that drained every
drop of cum out of me.  If you put the knowledge of my Urologist together with
the finger of my Proctologist you couldn't do to me what Candice did.  I know
that I screamed for about three or four minutes and then I fainted.  When I came
to I was muttering, "Candice, Cunagonde, Candice, Cunagonde, Candice,
Cunagonde."  


Mr. Alex Genron
9:30 AM, Friday August 3rd, 2001
Interview With A Couple of Whores

I lay there on a bed, in a bordello, in the Barrio, of Bogota.  One whore was
blowing the finest snow coke that my boys make up my nose through a cocktail
straw.  Another whore was fucking me.  She had the most educated pussy I have
ever encountered.  Excepting my Candy who has the greatest pussy in the world. 
I miss Candy dearly, she was better than the finest Russian whore.  She was
better than the finest Lebanese or Egyptian or Indian or Thai whore.  She was
better than the finest Latina whore.  She was even better than this whore.  A
third whore was pulling these Japanese ping pong balls on a string out of my
asshole and was sucking my balls while the second whore was fucking me.  What a
team.  I was also drunk.

I was trying to get through to Max.  But he wouldn't take my call.  Imagine
that.  He wouldn't take my call.  Who the hell was he with that he wouldn't take
my call.  Must be God to be that important.  Max always has time for my calls.

Shit.  Things are working out.  I am so lucky that the HPD crime lab is so
inept.  They can't do DNA matching to save their asses.  A little bit of fix and
they prove to a one in a billion probability that the bozo in the Bentley who
ate the end of the 9 mm and blew away his face is Alex Genron, the universally
reviled failed financier.   Yup, a one in a billion match.  No doubt.  No shit. 
OOOOHHH BABY, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE IT WHEN YOU DO THAT.


Elsbeth Strikt, Ph.D.
9:35 AM, Friday August 3rd, 2001
Weight Watchers From Hell

"OK Francine.  We have seen the office you will share with Mrs. Butz.  Now we
get around to the tough part of your orientation."  We went through the door
marked "Faculty" and through the one marked "Humanities" and, not surprisingly,
Francine looked puzzled. They always do the first time around.  At least
Francine was a former student and I have a strong suspicion that she knows what
is coming.  We reached a locker with her name on it, next to Mrs. Butz's locker. 
I opened the locker and looked her in the eyes, "OK, Francine, you know the
drill, clothes go in the locker, everything but the hose and shoes."  Her gulp
was audible.  As she disrobed and hung up her clothes she said, "I guess we are
going to the Treatment Room."   She could see the door marked "B167, Treatment
Room" at the far end of the locker room.  I nodded in affirmation.  Once
Francine had stripped to her bra and panties her obesity was far more apparent. 
She must have been fifty pounds overweight.  She said, "This may be a bit hard
for me.  I don't know what you are going to do to me but I never had to undress
completely for chastisement when I was a student.  I guess that this is going to
me a bit more severe than I am used to."  I nodded again.  When she took off her
bra her massive breasts flopped down disgustingly.  She covered them with her
forearms and said "I guess I am a little bit scared.  Are you going to hurt me
bad?"  She had the look of a frightened animal in her eyes.  Hard to tell what
kind of an animal, she was so obese.  Too fat for a pig.  Maybe a hippo.  I
firmly told her to stop stalling and get her panties off.  As she walked toward
that dreaded door, covering her breasts and mons with her hands, the roll of fat
around her waist, her protuberant buttocks and massive thighs jiggled.  As we
passed through the door into the brilliantly illuminated white Treatment Room I
said to her, "we are going to begin your weight loss program".

Barbara Robinson and Mrs. Anne Robinson were waiting for us in the Treatment
Room.  Barbara was dressed demurely as always in a chambray shirt and a long
denim A line skirt that buttoned down the front revealing lower calves and
ankles covered in dark blue stocking.  Her brown hair was done up in a bun.  
Mrs. Robinson was stunning but unrecognizable.  First, she was naked and
therefore she was without the chic and sexy clothing that was her hallmark. 
Second she had an exceptionally tight black leather hood over her head.  It
covered her eyes thereby occluding her vision.  It also tightly bound her mouth,
preventing anything more than a mumble.  The mask tightly pressed her ears up
against her head and not a wisp of hair escaped the mask which extended all the
way down her neck.  The only thing not tightly covered with black leather was
her nose which protruded obscenely from a hole in the front.  Mrs. Robinson's
hands and forearms were done up in shiny black leather gloves that laced up all
the way past her elbows.  Her wrists and elbows were fastened together behind
her back by straps with the wrists further secured by straps to the back of the
hood at the back of the neck.  It looked like a very painful bondage and it made
Mrs. Robinson's breasts stick out.  Those breasts were covered by bruises and
cuts that were just beginning to heal.  For that matter so was most of the rest
of her body.  Probably the most spectacularly abused parts were her buttocks and
thighs.  There probably wasn't an untouched single square inch of skin.  Over
large areas the outer skin was simply peeled off.  The better looking portions
were covered in deep purple bruise.  Her lower back, flanks, stomach and pubes
were covered with cuts and bruises but not to the degree of her backside.  Mrs.
Robinson was kneeling with her knees spread apart to an unnatural degree and her
lower extremities were clad in black leather high heeled boots that laced up
well above the knees.  Closer examination revealed that her knees and ankles
were secured with padlocks to staples in the white tiled floor.

Francine stood just inside the Treatment Room and took in the bizarre scene.  At
first she focused on the spectacle that Mrs. Robinson presented.  She shuddered
and you could see the fat woman's eyes bulge out.  She muttered to herself, "I
don't believe I'm seeing this".  Then she began to notice other details in the
blazingly white room.  Next to Mrs. Robinson was a puzzling apparatus.  It
looked like the mangle from an ancient manual washing machine with two white
rubber rollers mounted about three feet off the ground in a white enamel iron
frame that was attached to a black wrought iron "prie dieu".  There was a large
winged adjustment nut on the top of the enamel iron assemblage and a crank
handle on the right side.  At first the juxtaposition of a laundry implement on
top of a piece of ecclesiastic furniture made little sense.  Then Francine
caught an image of  the lady in bondage leathers kneeling on the "prie diu" with
her prominent breasts just at the level of the rollers.  Having had a mammogram
four days earlier, Francine started shaking.  Then she looked over at the other
side of the room where Barbara was standing.  There stood a wooden pillory with
a central hole for the neck and two lateral holes for the wrists.  The holes
were about thirty inches up off the ground which meant that anyone secured in
the pillory would be bent over at a very uncomfortable angle.  Then Francine
heard me close the door behind her and lock the deadbolt.  At that point she may
have noticed that Barbara had a six-thong whip in her right hand because she
turned to me and inquired "is that for me?"  I nodded.  Then she really started
to shake.  I told her, "Ms. Belt, over the next few months you are going to
start taking weight loss very seriously.  The penalty for failing to lose weight
here is very severe".  Francine then fell to her knees and vomited all over the
floor.  


Mrs. Candice Butz
9:50 AM, Friday August 3rd, 2001
Revelations

What a pathetic old man.  I manipulated him like a sixteen year old on his first
trip to a whorehouse.  I doubt that he had ever had a really sophisticated
sexual experience before in his life.  Using all my skills I managed to get his
withered penis reasonably stiff and after about a half an hour of stimulation he
finally got it into me.  When it comes to contracting the muscles of the pelvic
floor I have few equals.  I managed to get my "magic wave" going.  That's where
I first contract the muscles low down in my vagina, just above the fourchette. 
Then I contract muscles progressively higher up along the vaginal wall.  I don't
really know how I do it but it drives men nuts.  Their eyes glaze and drool runs
out of the corners of their mouths.  In particular it causes geezers to dream of
the sexual exploits of their youth that they never actually had.  When Max
finally ejaculated a feeble spurt he started moaning "Cunegonda" over and over
again.  Now I have had many men call out a lot of different names while their
shot their wad but never "Cunegonda".  Now I was sore as all hell but as we lay
on his couch in post-coital somnolence I let him fondle my battered breasts and
bruised pussy and pretended that I had multiple orgasms.  Meanwhile, I turned
over and over in my mind the word, Cunegonda.

After a while he began to get chatty.  Men are so predictable.  They get laid,
they get sleepy, and then they want to talk.  It's a good idea to listen to them
because you learn the most interesting things.  Unfortunately, Rev. Payne wanted
to do more than talk.  He wanted to sing to me.

"You've been a fool and so have I,
But come and be my wife,
And let us try before we die
To make some sense of life. 

We're neither pure nor wise nor good;
We'll do the best we know,
We'll build our house, and chop our wood,
And make our garden grow."

Off key, hell, he's tone deaf.  No sense of rhythm either.  I finally recognized
the tune.  "Candide", the finale.  The first opera I ever saw.  Back when Alex
and I were first dating.  Alex wanted to impress me.  Figure that all women
loved opera.  Well as they say.  "I've been beaten and whipped and repeatedly
stripped, I've been forced into all sorts of whoredom, but I'm finding of late
that the very worst fate is to perish of comfort and boredom."  Well, I've had
the beatings and whippings and strippings and whoredom so I guess I could do
with a little bit of comfort and boredom.  Being sung to by a love stricken
geezer fundamentalist sadist preacher.  What would my mother think.   


Ms. Barbara Robinson
10:00 AM, Friday August 3rd, 2001
Beat the Teacher

She was one really fat disaster area, Ms. Francine Belt, our new English
teacher.  Since two years ago when the new teacher disciplinary code was
started, we have had a number of teachers leave.  Mostly older ones.  I guess
they didn't like being subjected to the same sort of disciplinary code as the
students.  I have a hunch, that Dr. Strikt was also using chastisements to drive
out any teachers who didn't see eye to eye with her.  It probably didn't take
more than a couple of trips to the Treatment Room to convince a middle aged
teacher that just about any high school was more comfortable than 2nd
Evangelical.  Most of the new teachers were coming in right out of college. 
None too bright and none too good and all serious fundamentalist evangelicals. 
This latest one is a disaster.  Ms Belt was a graduate of 2nd Evangelical, Class
of '96.  I had to look her up earlier in the yearbooks in the library because
she graduated before I arrived.  A real loser.  Obviously took her five years to
get through an EDU major at Hometown Bible University which is hardly in the
same category as Rice.  She was chunky at 2nd Evangelical and put on even more
weight in college.  When she walked into the Treatment Room she was shaky. 
After she took in the sight of my mother in leather bondage next to the
tittilator and then caught the sight of me next to the pillory she lost it.  She
dropped to her knees, barfed all over the floor, pissed herself and fainted. 
Gross!

First Dr. Strikt and I tried hauling her over to the pillory.  Forget it. 
Francine must have weighed way over 200 lbs.  Try dragging two hundred pounds of
limp deadweight over a tile floor some day.  Finally we sat her up and revived
her with the old ammonia soaked cotton swab up the nose trick.  After
applications to both nostrils, sticking it way up and twirling it, she started
gagging and coming around.  Of course the first thing she did was vomit all over
herself.  Gross!  I never knew someone that had that much vomit in them.  She
must have pigged out this morning at a breakfast buffet.  Then while I held her
sitting up, Dr. Strikt got the hose and hosed her down, fortunately not
splattering me too badly in the process.  Next I got the mop and bucket and we
made her clean up the mess she had made.  I think that my mother was fascinated
by what was going on.  Mom couldn't see anything because of the mask/hood over
her head and I suspect she couldn't even hear too well but I'll bet she could
smell the puke and the piss.  I could see her craning her head around trying to
figure out what was coming off.  Well when Francine starts screaming I suspect
that sound will penetrate.  Finally we got the new teacher over to the pillory. 
She struggled a bit as we forced her neck into the wooden frame but once that
was secured she stopped fighting us and we were able to fit her wrists into the
hand holes without too much trouble.  Francine was bent over ninety degrees at
the waist by the pillory, an angle that with her big stomach must have been very
uncomfortable.  Given how readily she passed out I wondered what we were going
to do with her if she went unconscious while under the whip.  Would she be left
dangling from the pillory?  Wouldn't she strangle?  Then Dr. Strikt pulled out
the weirdest looking pole I had ever seen and suddenly I understood.  It looked
like a thirty inch long prop with a couple of fingers from a black rubber glove
and a squeeze bulb on one end.  As she positioned the stick in between
Francine's legs it hit me.  The two big fingers went into her!  One finger went
up her ass while the other finger went up her snatch!  Francine didn't like it
but there wasn't an awful lot she could do.  It was tricky going but eventually
Dr. Strikt got it in.  Then she started squeezing the rubber bulb and Francine
started screaming "NO! NO!".  Dr. Strikt was obviously inflating the fingers to
hold them into Francine's nether orifices.  Later I got to check her out and I
figure that each of those fingers inflated up to the size of large grapefruits. 
Must have been painful as all hell.  Now Francine had no choice but to keep her
ass up in the air.  With one big bulb up her asshole, she couldn't shit.  With a
second huge bulb up her pussy her urethra was compressed in such a way that she
couldn't pee.  As her bladder slowly filled with urine over the next couple of
hours the pain must have been exquisite steadily increasing to an unbearable
agony.  Francine later told me that the torture of an increasingly full bladder
was almost as bad as having most of the skin whipped off her commodious
backside.  Securing the fat lady's ankles to a couple of staples in the floor
completed the bondage.  I was awestruck at the brilliance of the arrangement -
the biggest ass I have ever seen hoisted up on an inflatable double dildo.

Now it was my turn to have fun.  Late Wednesday night (actually early Thursday
morning), I had my first taste of wielding the scourge when I used the knotted
Norcod whip on my mom.  Francine was to get less of a battering, after all
classes started in two weeks and she had girls to teach.  So she got a Norcod
whip without knots.  Very painful but less actual damage to the skin.  Still six
strands of sixteen gauge plastic coated wire is nothing to sneeze at.  Earlier
that morning Dr. Strikt had given me six of her best with that very whip on my
bare behind so that I would know what it felt like.  It was raise your skirts,
set your feet apart, hold your ankles and here it comes.  Although it turned me
on to an excellent degree it was also extremely painful.  Dr. Strikt was
skillful enough so that I had no cuts and afterwards she was kind enough to
finger me to a marvelous climax as I was bent over and spread.  But I sure that
I would not like the full Mosaic dose while bound in the bent over position.  It
wouldn't be worth the orgasm.  Fortunately for Francine, her thighs are so fat
that I wouldn't have been able to get the knotless whip to thrash her pussy even
if she wasn't impaled on the "prop",  So there goes the fun of it.  It will be
the full Mosaic thirty-nine lashes without any hits on the perineum.  I suspect
that by the time it is over, Francine will be bleeding pretty good.

Francine proved to be a weak sister.  The fat woman screamed at the very first
blow which only encouraged me to hit her harder.  She was hoarse and gasping by
the sixth lash.  I was actually happy that her scream decreased because I loved
the whistling sound the whip made and the twack as it hit the skin.  By the time
Francine passed out after the ninth strike her backside was covered with welts
but she wasn't bleeding.  I have to admit that whipping her was even more erotic
than whipping my mother.  My mom was already pretty messy when I started on her
and Dr. Strikt got to hit her half the time.  Francine was unmarked when I
started, and fresh.  Therefore I had the chance, so to speak, to paint on a
fresh canvas.  And she had nowhere the self control of my mother.  Talk about
screaming.  It was so loud that it actually hurt my ears.  I found it very
arousing.  After six lashes, Dr. Strikt had me stop while she whispered in
Francine's ear.  I used the pause to manipulate myself to orgasm.  I was so
stimulated that I simply stood there upright and tweaked my love button until I
started to shake and shudder.  Wild!  Dr. Strikt must have been talking about
food and diets and something like that because as soon as I started up again,
Francine blew more chunks.  We just let the vomit fall there on the other side
of the wooden pillory frame.  Francine had to look at it for the rest of the
day.  And the pile got bigger as we went along.

Each time Francine passes out we took a break.  Some times we went over and
worked on my mother.  Mom's backside was too ripped up for any more flogging and
she had been raped so badly that we had to leave her vagina and rectum alone. 
That left her breasts and we had a lot of fun playing titty in the wringer with
her that morning.  But some times while Francine was recovering we played with
each other.  I got Dr. Strikt to climax three times that day and she got me off
twice.  We worked straight through without lunch not finishing until three
o'clock.

Well back to Francine.  I gave her ten through twenty-one slowly, switching
sides after every three.  The first always went to the outside, curling around
her side.  Sometimes I got a good enough curl that the ends of the strands
actually struck the front of the thighs or the stomach.  The second blow of the
triad was aimed so that the end of the cords struck in the middle.  That way I
could get maximum curl into her crack or inner thigh.  Her fatness and the prop
unfortunately prevented curling the tips right onto her pussy or asshole.  Well
every method has its shortcomings.  The third blow was once again always to the
outside but I always tried to angle this one so that it gave a crossing pattern
with the others.  Then I would wait for at least five minutes before I crossed
over and gave another three from the opposite side.  Using this method I managed
to get twelve in before she fainted the second time.  By about the nineteenth
cumulative lash Francine had screamed herself hoarse.  For most of this second
cycle of whipping, the thongs were coming down upon already welted skin.  When
the whip cords struck skin that already had a wheal, blood blisters formed.  I
tried to spread my strikes evenly, but with six strands in this whip by the
twenty-first blow I was breaking blood blisters.  When Francine passed out for
the second time in the pillory we decided to give her a half hour break.

After half an hour we brought Francine around by sponging down her wounds with
the same mixture of saturated salt in white vinegar that we used the other night
on my mother.  The combination of salt and acid on cut flesh really elicits a
howl.  I had thought earlier that Francine had lost her voice but I was proved
wrong.  Half an hour's respite and the searing agony of the acetic brine brought
out her full voice.  I was then struck by an idea.  In her bent over position
her breasts dangled down like the udder of a cow.  By now I was getting pretty
handy with my whip.  How about swinging the whip with an underhand stroke as if
I was pitching a softball and striking the hanging jugs from below?  Dr. Strikt
granted me permission.  I started off standing to Francine's right and aiming
the tip of the lash to strike her right breast.  The experiment was a success
and I cleanly landed three on her massive right boob.  Then I switched over to
her left side and landed three on her left boob.  Francine really hated having
her titties beaten and she reacted with howling and bucking up and down. 
However, her front end was secured by the sturdy wooden pillory and all she
succeeded in accomplishing was to jump her rear end up and down a little.  Since
she was impaled both anally and vaginally she was only causing herself more
grief.  Eventually she realized that she was accomplishing nothing more than
ripping up two of the most sensitive parts of her body and she stopped the
hopping.  Little trickles of blood started running down the inner aspects of her
cellulite studded thighs from where she tore her vaginal and rectal openings on
the inflated plugs.  Getting back to my tit whipping, I switched back to the
right side.  I tried to lay one all the way across, hitting the left breast with
the tips of the whip and the right breast with the mid-portion.  By the third
stroke I was succeeding. So then it was back to the left side and aim for the
right breast.  I have to admit that I was highly pleased at the skill I was
developing.  I cannot say that Francine was equally pleased.  But her
protestations ceased when she passed out at the thirty-third cumulative stroke. 
I could see that she had numerous blood blisters on her breasts.  Any more blows
and she would start bleeding profusely.

Dr. Strikt pointed out that Francine had probably taken enough mammary
chastisement and suggested that I confine my final efforts to her behind.  Since
most of my blows to her thighs and buttocks had come from the sides she
suggested that I try standing all the way up by the pillory on her left side,
holding the whip in my right hand and striking down from up above.  This would
land the strands of the last six blows across the buttocks in a caudad to a
cephalad direction producing a checkerboard pattern.  I was so taken with the
idea that after only a ten minute frigging break I went back to work reviving
the fat lady.  First came an ammonia swab up each nostril.  Then I twisted and
pinched each nipple - a suggestion for revival from Dr. Strikt which seemed to
work quite well.  Then I sponged down Francine's buttocks with the briney
vinegar and lastly I even went to work with the sponge on her breasts.  I knew
she was ready for the last part of her flogging when she cursed me soundly.  The
six lash checkerboard worked fabulously.  Six lashes with the cords of a six
thonged whip yields thirty six strikes.  Even with as broad a butt as Francine,
this works out to a spacing of one cord strike per less than one inch!  Oh what
a pattern.  I delivered the blows in relatively rapid order in my excitement.  I
have to admit that Francine was probably unconscious for the last two hits. But
it was a lot of fun and her lacerated butt bled like the proverbial stuck pig. 
I really believe that today I have made a huge step toward becoming an expert
with the whip.    


Mrs. Robinson
10:00 AM, Friday August 3rd, 2001
Titties in the Wringer

They let me recover on Thursday, those demons from hell, Dr. Strikt and my
daughter Barbara.  Yes she was getting back at me for what she perceived to be
years of neglect.  It was just that as a baby I never warmed to her and as she
went her way, I went mine.  Well, she certainly has it in for me.  Along with my
husband and these fundamentalist fiends.  Just see what being a modern woman
nets you.  Kidnapped, beaten, raped, sodomized, fisted, flogged.  I guess they
let me rest on Thursday because I was too weak to be much fun to torture.  I
have no idea where they kept me because when they took me there I was too dazed
to figure things out.  Thursday was spent naked, handcuffed hand and foot to a
single bed in a bare white painted room.  The window was covered by closed
miniblinds.  And on the interior side of the miniblinds there was the kind of
strong wire mesh that they have over the windows on a psych ward.  I guess that
they were taking no chances.  On Friday they took me out before dawn.  I was
asleep when they came for me and the first thing I knew they had a blind fold on
me.  Then came the prick of a needle and the next thing I knew I was waking up,
blindfolded and naked.  Before long I figured out that I was back in that damned
Treatment Room.

The first thing they did was put my arms into some sort of bondage gear.  Long
gloves were laced up and my elbows were fastened behind my back.  I howled at
the pain of having my arms twisted up behind my back but they didn't care. 
Sounded like my daughter Barbara and the Dark Lady.  Then they put me into boots
with the heels from hell, must have been five inchers.  Off came the blindfold. 
Yes Barbara and Dr. Strikt.  But I didn't get much of a chance to look at them
because on went a hood that cut off my vision while gagging me and making it
hard to hear.  About the only thing I could easily do was breathe.  How nice. 
But before the hood when on I caught I glimpse of something that puzzled me. 
Next to me was what looked like part of an old manual washing machine.  One with
a wringer.  I hadn't seen anything like that since the early 60's.  Soon enough
I guess I will learn what that is all about.  Later they brought another woman
into the Treatment Room.  She must have barfed and peed because I could smell
the acrid, rancid odor or vomit and later the faintly pungent musk of urine. 
Then after a while I could barely make out the all too familiar sound of a whip
whistling through the air followed by shrill, heart-rending screams.  Someone
was being flogged.  Then after what must have been a half an hour the woman
stopped screaming.  All the while I was worried about what they were going to do
to me.  What the hell is that wringer for?  Then in a flash, a phrase too
obscene to even contemplate came into my mind "Don't get your titties in the
wringer".

Before too long I felt someone releasing the ties that bound me in place.  They
grabbed my upper arms and got me on my feet.  I was pretty damn unstable on
those heels.  They drug me over no more than five or six feet and made me kneel
down on some sort of solid board.  Then they pushed me forward until I made
contact with an apparatus at the height of my chest.  It hit me, The Wringer!  I
remembered those white, hard rubber rollers.  They were going to put my titties
through the wringer.  I tried to struggle but I was still weak from the beating
and abuse they had given me two days ago.  They fastened my knees to the kneeler
with straps around the upper parts of the backs of my calves.  Next some sort of
a belt was fastened around my waist holding me up against the cold metal of the
apparatus in front of me.  Horrifyingly, the hard rubber of the two rollers of
the wringer chilled my breasts.  They had previously adjusted the infernal
machine so that it was at exactly the right height.  Now another strap was
fastened just at the level of my armpits further holding my chest up against the
machine.  I tried to scream but all that came out was a muffled "gaaargh".  I
struggled but the straps held me close.  Then I felt it.  My right nipple being
grasped between a finger and a thumb.  The nails were digging deeply into flesh
that was still tender from being whipped on Wednesday.  I attempted to scream
once again but screaming and struggling were useless.  Then the left nipple was
also grabbed.  I could feel them being dragged in between the upper and lower
rollers which must have been no more than an inch or so apart.  I felt something
sharp being pressed up against the lower surface of my right nipple and then a
piercing pain.  I think they just pierced my right nipple with some sort of pin
or needle.  Now something sharp against my left nipple and, argh, the piecing. 
My nipples are pinned, just on the other side of the rollers.  Now I dimly hear
a "click, click, click" and I start to feel pressure on my breasts just behind
the nipples.  Oh my God they must be tightening the rollers down.  They are
getting ready to crush my breasts!  NNOO!    


Rev. Maximilian Payne
10:35 AM, Friday August 3rd, 2001
Love

We lay on my couch.  The two of us.  Mostly undressed.  Candice and me.  I
haven't felt like this in years.  No in decades.  We are covered by a quilt
given to me by one of the ladies in the church.  Nice body, but nothing like
Candice.  We cuddle.  I feel all warm.  Then she does it to me.  She is arousing
me again.  I didn't know I had it in me.  Oh God!  Here we go again.

Afterwards I lie there half asleep.  Earlier I was singing to her.  I am not
much for classical music but there is one piece I really love.  The first opera
I ever went to.  Turns out it was also the first opera Candice ever went to. 
She remembers another part of the song and sings it to me.

"I thought the world was sugarcake,
For so our master said;
But now I'll teach my hands to bake
Our loaf of daily bread.

We're neither pure nor wise nor good;
We'll do the best we know,
We'll build our house, and chop our wood,
And make our garden grow."

When she looks at me that way I melt.  She asks me why all the pain and beatings
and torment.  I explain to her what sinful creatures we are and how only though
pain does redemption come.  Fourteen Stations, that's what the papists believe. 
Fourteen Stations of the Cross.  Going from station to station reliving the
torment of Christ during his Passion.  From being judged by Pilate through
carrying the Cross through the streets.  Beatings, stumbling, strippings and
then the ultimate pain.  Pain before the Resurrection.

And speaking of resurrection, she is causing me to resurrect again.  I want to
pleasure her.  We sixty-nine.  I lick her genitals while she sucks my balls.  I
stick my nose into her asshole while I blow into her pussy.  I am going nuts. 
She promises she will never hurt me.  I tell her about Cunegonda.  I love her.


Mrs. Candice Butz
10:45 AM, Friday August 3rd, 2001
Love

What a sorry, twisted old man.  Pain is all he knows.  I wonder what made him
that way.  He is mumbling on about fourteen Stations of Pain, the Stations of
the Cross.  He must be nuts.  There must be some sort of a twisted relationship
between him and Dr. Strikt.  But that is none of my business.  I need to get him
into the palm of my hand.  And then from hand to mouth.  And I think that we are
well on the road there.

Then it hits me.  He starts talking again about Cunegonda, which is my mother's
name.  As the dates and the places line up, the realization hits home.  As he is
nuzzling my anal rosebud with his nose it becomes apparent that almost thirty
years ago he had a love affair with a blond lady in East Texas named Cunegonda. 
My mother's name is extremely rare, she is the only Cunegonda I have ever heard
of.  Apparently a child was on the way when he skipped town.  He is crying now. 
GOOD GOD,  ITS DADDY!  I am fucking and blowing my own father!  My long lost
dad!  This is so sick I can't believe it.  But what choice do I have.  Right now
I am being eaten out by papa.  Well, as Joe E. Brown said in "Some Like It Hot",
'none of us are perfect'.


Elsbeth Strikt, Ph.D.
11:00 AM, Friday August 3rd, 2001
Love

That was the high point of the day, when we, my new found lover Barbara and I,
fed Mrs. Robinson's tits into the wringer.  I had purchased the wringer many
years ago with just this purpose in mind.  But it sat in storage because it is
such a rare opportunity for someone to come along who is in need of such severe
chastisement.  And who is available for such extreme discipline.  But Mr.
Robinson wants his wife punished to just short of the ultimate.  And I am
willing to comply. 

Barbara and I spent all yesterday afternoon mounting the manual wringer on the
kneeler and checking it out.  Barbara even insisted on being the "subject" of a
test run although we put negligible pressure on her breasts.  It turned her on
to such an extreme degree that she had two orgasms while strapped to the
machine.  And seeing her so stimulated caused me to become aroused to an extent
that I have seldom experienced without severe torture.  There is a bond
developing between the two of us that I have never known before in my life.  It
is a mixture of erotic attraction, a longing to be hurt and experience pain, and
the thrill of giving pain.  I do believe that I have found the love of my life
in this girl.  To think that I could be seduced by a high school senior.

Barbara seemed to find torturing her mother's breast the ultimate arousal.  As
we fed her nipples though the hard white rubber rollers and fastened them with
aluminum shish kabob skewers, Barbara started shaking.  I could see another
extreme orgasm coming on.  Her shaking became worse as we tightened the knurled
tension adjustment knob on the top.  As I began to move the crank that turned
the rollers and Anne's breasts began to feed into the machine, Barbara just
lifted up her skirts, sat on the floor and frigged herself into unconsciousness.
I have a feeling she never even noticed when her mother passed out.

And so we spent the morning.  We would whip Ms. Belt until she passed out, take
a break, and run Mrs. Robinson's tits either in or out flattening and
compressing them a little bit more each time, have sex, take a break and then go
back to work on flogging Francine's behind.  And then another cycle.  By
noontime, we had removed most of the superficial layer of skin from Francine's
fat ass, Anne's tits were a one foot long, one inch thick, solid purple bruise
and Barbara and I were so climaxed out I doubt we will be able to have another
orgasm for a whole week.  And a long as there is a female in need of
chastisement, Barbara and I will never lack for sexual gratification.  For the
first time in a couple of decades I can say, "Life is Beautiful"!  Late that
afternoon I described what is called "The Pear" to Barbara.  I saw one in a
museum in Central Europe.  This implement was used by the Spanish Inquisition to
painfully dilate the vagina or rectum of a victim.  We should make a "Pair" for
Mrs. Robinson.  After all, we will have her for at least another month.  When we
are finished with her even Dr. Shinezall won't be able to "nip and tuck" her
back into shape. 


Mr. Alex Genron
11:30 AM, Friday August 3rd, 2001
Finis

 Still can't get through to Max.  I am pretty well out of it by now.  No more
coke.  Too limp to even get blown let alone fuck.  Sitting here nursing a bottle
of the local sugar cane brandy.  My good friend Major Noriega walks in with a
pale teenager who is walking with a funny, wide stance shuffle.  Says his name
is Benji and that a Mr. Robinson has had him flown in on a company plane.  I
explain to the boy that I am a business associate of his friend Mr. Robinson and
that I will take care of him.  We will protect him but he had better tow the
line.  After all, we are not killers but Mr. Robinson, Major Noriega and I are
not men to be trifled with.

At that point all hell broke loose.  A hand grenade came smashing through the
window and detonated.  The last thing I remembered four men broke kicked open
the door to the hallway and sprayed the room with Glock fire.  As I went for my
gun, I distinctly remember being hit four times.  Then, the lights went out
forever.


Dr. Shinezall
12 Noon, Friday August 3rd, 2001
The Last Word

So the story of the wondrous adventures and trials and tribulation of that great
Texan heroine, Candy Butz, has come to an end.  As we can see, everything that
happens is for the good in this best of all possible worlds.  Though pain may
appear to rule the world it is only pleasure in disguise.  Though perversion
seems rampant it is only virtue in another guise.  And if you have the right
attitude, everyone has a chance to find happiness.

"Let dreamers dream what worlds they please;
Those Eden's can't be found.
The sweetest flowers, the fairest trees
Are grown in solid ground.

We're neither pure nor wise nor good;
We'll do the best we know,
We'll build our house, and chop our wood,
And make our garden grow."

Any Questions?


ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The author wishes to extend the profoundest apologies to Voltaire, Terry
Southern and Leonard Bernstein for flagrant and perverse plagiarism.  But they
are all dead and dead white males are accorded minimal respect in this
politically correct world.  Considering that these three magnificent artists
spent their lives thumbing their collective noses at whatever establishment
happened to blight their decade, this collection of perversions can be
considered a tribute to them.  I am sure that if they were alive today, Attorney
General Ashcroft would have agents at work investigating them.

This story could not have been possible without quoting and parodying the lyrics
of Richard Wilbur.  In a day when the obscenities of rap fill our ears it should
be remembered that the greatest humor can oft be achieved with out resorting to
a single crudity.  May his cleverness be remembered for another fifty years. 
Or, as Richard's contemporary, Tom Lehrer said at about the same time Richard
was writing "Candide";

'For filth I'm glad to say is in the mind of the beholder. 
When correctly viewed, everything is lewd. 
I can tell you things about Peter Pan,
And the Wizard of OZ, there's a dirty old man.'

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