Ache

Lucinda Dupoint possessed both pride and scruples. She also however possessed the ability to swallow the former and disregard the latter whenever it suited her.

When asked, she always said that she adored her husband. She adored him for providing the holidays, the champagne breakfasts, the black cab account, the dainty food served at the poshest restaurants, theatre, the opera, a career that consisted of “doing lunch,” and she especially adored the way his job yanked him out of the country for days, sometimes weeks on end, something that provided her with the opportunity to both have her cake and eat it.

Lucinda performed a certain ritual each time his business took him away. She removed his photograph from the bedside table and placed it on the floor facing the toilet, propped up at a forty-five degree angle, or as near as dammit. Every time she had to spend a penny, or evacuate the remnants of the copious luxuries she consumed on a daily basis from her bowels, she would say to the beaming image of her husband as she raised her skirt and wriggled down her knickers, ‘This is a part of me you cannot buy.’

She selected an expensive, yet simply designed knee-length jet-black wrap-around dress to wear, knowing that when she crossed one leg over the other - a manoeuvre she performed with practised elegance - one part of the skirt would fall away from the other to reveal her pale slender thigh and so give the object of her flirtations a cock-twitching glimpse of what Lucinda liked to call the “dark and the light.” Bewitching.

Beneath her dress she wore a triad of sin-inducing underwear, black stockings, so fine they might have been woven from fairy wings, a black lace suspender belt with dimante fasteners, and a tiny thong that clung like a cobweb to her dense tangle of coppery pubic hair. She did not wear a bra.

As she applied the final layer of lip-gloss, mascara, and blusher, her nipples began to rise like two miniature soufflés in anticipation of her visit. The letter had arrived the week before informing her about her check-up, which was something of a surprise to say the least, considering the intimate relationship she shared with the author. Still, she was twenty-five years old and enjoyed playing games, so went along with it. After a little thought, she decided that it was a symptom of how her body had affected him. ‘You’re mine,’ she hissed at her reflection.

The last two things she did before leaving the house was to squeeze her feet into a pair of black needle-heeled stilettos and remove her wedding ring. Being married to someone else was a thing that certain lovers disapproved off. Lucinda did not want to blow it.

Her pert breasts shifted tantalisingly inside her dress when she sashayed into the sumptuous Harley Street surgery. But he wasn’t there to greet her as usual. There was one nurse on duty. Her naturally brown skin made Lucinda feel jealous. No amount of trips to the tropics and sunbed treatments could ever give her a tan to compare. ‘I’ve an appointment with Mr Carter,’ Lucinda said curtly.

The Indian nurse flashed her a smile. Her glorious skin colour made her teeth appear to glow, further irritating Lucinda. ‘Number three,’ she said, but Lucinda had already left the reception area and was striding down the corridor towards Mr Carter’s surgery.

Like the others in the practice, surgery number three was a windowless roomy cell of white marble filled with spot-lit trays of bright satin steel instruments, which all looked as if they had been designed by a medieval mind and then fashioned with a vicious hand. The only furniture was the luxurious leather dentist’s chair and a matching stool that the dentist sat on.

He was twiddling his thumbs nervously when she entered. She greeted him with a kiss. Her hand automatically slipped between his legs as her tongue flickered over his lips. She smiled, feeling his bulge tighten. But he pushed her hand away. Lucinda pouted. ‘What’s wrong? Aren’t you pleased to see me?’

‘As always, but I’m working,’ he seemed pre-occupied, eager to start, somewhat nervous.

‘I do love a man in uniform,’ she cooed.

‘Get on the chair please,’ he replied. It was an order, not an invitation.

His lack of interest perplexed her. Usually within two minutes of meeting him she had her skirt hitched up around her waist and was clinging onto his neck for dear life while he pumped his fat old cock in and out of her like a horny teenager. This time different. Then she remembered the letter. He was playing a game, keeping in character.

‘Get on the chair madam,’ he repeated firmly, ‘I’m losing patience with you.’

The unfamiliar edge to his voice was strangely exciting. She could feel herself becoming aroused. ‘Ok doctor,’ she said, she winked at him, then climbed up onto the chair, lay down and stretched, pushing her breasts out, knowing that his eyes were as good as glued to her stiff nipples. ‘Do your worst,’ she whispered.

Donald Carter had proposed marriage two weeks before. She said yes in principle to the offer. After going down on him, she suggested that he might want to demonstrate his seriousness by making her independently wealthy. Only then she said could she prove to him that she wasn’t after his money. Crazy logic, but perhaps the sight of his semen hanging off her eyelashes and dribbling down her chin distracted him from thinking clearly. ‘Just think, then you can take me anytime, anyplace, in any hole, for the rest of you life,’ she said.

He understood perfectly. For people like Donald Carter it was a tempting offer. He as fifty-six years old and had had two lovers in his lifetime. Lucinda was the second. Before her was a thirty-year period of enforced celibacy. In the beginning he had kept himself sane through masturbation, but as the years rolled past, the distraction became a miserable and unbreakable habit. The day Lucinda walked into his life was like the Second Coming. She was a dream come true.

Lucinda relaxed back on the chair, clasped her hands around her trim belly and crossed her feet while she waited for him to begin work on her. ‘Concealed within this dress is the juiciest strawberry cunt in the world,’ she whispered.

‘I know.’ His nose twitched as if he could already smell her sex.

Reading the cue, Lucinda uncrossed her feet and began to slowly bend one leg, her stiletto scraping along the edge of the chair. He watched her knee rise up before his eyes, and she watched him, knowing that even now his cock was throbbing and leaking. When her leg was fully bent, she let it splay out to the side. With quickening breath, he watched as her knee began to descend sideways. Slowly, like the unveiling of a national treasure, the skirt of her dress began to slip aside. Beads of sweat appeared on his brow like a translucent rash. His fingers fumbled in the instrument tray. She heard the metallic tinkle of a spiked probe landing on the floor when her stocking top appeared. Transfixed by the dark and the light, the dentist found himself unable to move, unable to think, barely able to breathe. She stroked her thigh with creamy fingers, played with the suspender, then continued upwards until she paused with her hand resting on her springy mound of pubic hair. ‘This could be yours forever,’ she whispered.

‘Mr Carter!’ He looked up as if woken from a dream.

The Indian nurse stood before him. Lucinda struggled up onto her elbows, clearly peeved at the interruption.

‘It’s the rules,’ the nurse announced, striding into the surgery. ‘A nurse must be in attendance at all times.’ She pushed Lucinda roughly back onto the chair.

Lucinda tipped her head backward to look at her lover. ‘It’s true,’ he shrugged.

‘Are you here for a check up?’ the nurse asked.

‘No, I’m here for a pint of milk and newspaper, of course I’m here for a check up!’

The nurse ignored her and turned to the dentist. ‘Shall we begin?’ she said, fixing him with a stern gaze. He looked into her eyes and saw a demon looking back at him.

‘I’m ready nurse,’ he replied meekly.

Lucinda closed her legs and opened her mouth. The nurse handed a new probe to the dentist and he set to work digging around her mouth, picking at her gums, drawing threads of blood, making her wince and tense. ‘You have a cavity there Lucinda,’ he said after a minute. ‘I’m going to have to fill it.’

Working under the nurse’s unwavering gaze, he began to fix a handful of metal clamps onto the teeth of her upper and lower jaws to keep her mouth locked open. He could tell she was in some discomfort each time he looked into her eyes, but he kept turning the knurled clamp screws, forcing her mouth wider and wider open. When speech was impossible, and she feared her mouth was going to split, she suddenly found herself unable to move, the nurse having attached a set of thick steel wires to her wrists and ankles while she was distracted. The steel loops bit into her fair skin ferociously. Lucinda could just make out that the wires were connected to four pulleys hanging over a series of wall hooks. Suddenly deciding that the game was not for her, she tried to protest, but all that came out was an unintelligible grunt.

‘I think we’re ready,’ the nurse said.

Lucinda glanced up at her lover and was horrified to see that his eyes were host to a cold glitter she had not seen before.

The dentist held her head firmly between his hands while the nurse fixed her skull in place with a metal head-clamp. Then she moved around to the side of Lucinda and ripped her dress open, exposing her breasts. Lucinda winced when the nurse bent forward and flicked her tongue over her nipples, stiffening them into sturdy strawberry stalks.

‘Two more clamps please nurse,’ the dentist said.

The clamps bit into Lucinda’s swollen nipples like bulldogs. A low moan escaped from Lucinda’s gaping mouth. She began to feel faint and dreamy. The next thing her eyes focussed on were two steel wires leading from each nipple clamp to a pulley mechanism fixed to the ceiling.

‘You may feel a little sting,’ the dentist said quietly.

The pulleys rotated and the slack suddenly vanished from the wires. Lucinda’s nipples began to stretch under the strain, then when they could neither swell, nor extend anymore, she watched her breasts elongate and lift away from her torso. Writhing in pain, her head swimming, she knew that for the first time in her life she was out of her depth. Something had happened, what, she did not know.

The dentist nodded at his nurse as if for permission as he increased the tension on the nipple wires a little further. Lucinda groaned and grunted and tried to twist her way out of trouble, terrified that her nipples would rip out of her breasts. She could see in her mind’s eye the dentist and his evil assistant laughing insanely while the two bloody stalks danced in the air in front of her like some obscene puppet show.

‘She likes it!’ the nurse said, her voice loaded with mock humour, ‘See how she smiles!’

‘Feels like toothache don’t it?’ the dentist said.

Lucinda suddenly felt the wires attached to her ankles tighten. ‘Why break the habit of a lifetime?’ the nurse cooed sarcastically as she cranked Lucinda’s legs apart.

The nurse stopped opening her legs a centimetre before Lucinda’s thighbones popped out of her hip. Before she could begin to cope with this new and excruciating pain, the nurse set to work cranking the pulleys connected to her wrists, stretching her arms out to the sides until her shoulders dislocated with an audible pop. ‘I think that should do it,’ she said.

Leaning close, the dentist whispered into Lucinda’s ear, ‘Time for some TV.’ He was getting into the spirit of the operation now and grinned sadistically at her.

A flat screen monitor fixed to the ceiling between the two breast pulleys flickered on. The nurse adjusted the camera and the picture quickly cleared, giving Lucinda a close up view of her own vagina. The nurse held up Lucinda’s cobweb thong with a pair of forceps for her to see, then dropped them into the bin.

‘She’s ready for you,’ she said to the dentist.

The dentist got up from his stool and walked around to attend to Lucinda’s other orifice.

‘Clamps,’ the dentist said, settling himself onto another stool set between Lucinda’s legs.

Lucinda watched with horror as he grasped one side of her labia, eased it aside until her cleft opened, then screwed a clamp onto the flesh. A strangled scream burst out from Lucinda’s mouth. The chair rocked as she arched violently. The dentist paused for the pain to subside. ‘You done?’ he said, peering up at her over her quivering belly.

‘Clamp two,’ the nurse said, slapping the next tiny instrument of torture into his gloved hand. Lucinda made a series of obscene grunting screams.

When he had fixed all eight clamps to her labia and Lucinda was too weak to scream anymore, the nurse handed the dentist two steel rings. He fixed one ring to each set of four clamps, then attached steel wires connected to a pulley mechanism fixed into opposing walls to each ring.

‘Comfortable?’ the dentist said.

Tears spilled down Lucinda’s cheeks as she began to cry.

‘Lovely,’ he said. ‘Nurse, if you please.’

‘There’s pleasure in pain,’ the Nurse said as she began to ratchet Lucinda’s sex open.

The dentist watched Lucinda’s face closely as the strain began to bite. Lucinda watched her vagina blossoming in the monitor, eyes bugging out, praying that someone would rescue her from a living nightmare.

A giant butterfly appeared on the screen in front of her, her grotesquely stretched labia forming the wings, her gaping hole the thorax and her clitoris the head.

Then she heard the eardrum piercing, eye rolling, teeth-on-edge whizzing of the drill and wanted to scream her lungs out with terror.

‘Don’t fight it,’ the dentist said.

She could see the drill getting closer in the TV monitor and tried to squirm away from it.

‘It’s in!’ the nurse said, clapping her hands together excitedly.

‘Keep squirming and it’ll rip you apart,’ the dentist said. He fed the rotating drill the rest of the way into Lucinda’s vagina, then fixed the instrument in place with another screw clamp that he then attached to the labial clamps. All she could see now was what looked like an inseparable amalgamation of steel and living flesh.

‘The object of this exercise is to help you hone the skill of experiencing extreme pleasure in a most secret and furtive manner,’ the dentist explained. He glanced at the nurse as if to ask for confirmation. She nodded, then placed another drill in his open palm.

‘This is a slow speed drill,’ the dentist explained.

She knew the one. Everyone who had ever been to a dentist to have some decay dug out did. It was the one that made the jaw rumble and sounded like two heavy rocks grumbling together inside a polishing mill. It was bruising rather than wicked, unlike its high-speed sister.

Lucinda watched in horror as the nurse squeezed her clitoral hood between finger and thumb until the tiny organ concealed within was exposed to the harsh surgery lights. Then gently snaring it between the stiletto jaws of a set of forceps, she pulled it fully out, stretching the flesh.

‘Enjoy,’ the dentist said.

He brought the drill towards her clitoris. She waited for contact, forcing herself to keep perfectly still, her mind fixed on the image of the spiteful high-speed drill whirring around inside her. The words, “Move and it’ll rip you apart” repeated inside her head in an endless loop.

The dentist touched her elongated clitoris with the tip of the drill. Lucinda squeezed her eyes shut as a million nerve endings between her legs fired all at once sending shock waves rippling through her body.

The dentist moved the drill away again.

‘We are governed by two masters,’ the nurse said, noticing the pussy oil darkening Lucinda’s pubic hair, ‘One’s name is pain, the other pleasure.’

Lucinda forced huge gulps of air into her lungs.

‘Don’t move,’ the dentist chuckled.

She nearly did, such was the shock of the drill making contact with her clitoris again. The vibrating instrument set it the organ buzzing. She could see it only as a tiny throbbing-scarlet blur in the TV monitor. A million electric ripples expanded from this point in her pelvis throughout her body, each one as energetic as a bolt of lightning. Moans mixed in with loud sobs gargled in her throat as the intensity soared.

The orgasm made her feel like her entire body had been blown apart, then instantly resembled again hundreds of times a second. She screamed, a great out-pouring of air from the very core of her body. Urine sprayed out of her urethra and around the shaft of the drill deep inside her, soaking the dentist’s knees. Then she passed out.

It was well past midnight when she awoke. After a few blurry moments, she discovered that she was alone and still lying on the dentist’s chair. It took a few more moments for her to realise that her mouth was still clamped open, her arms were still stretched out to the sides, her legs wide apart, and her breasts and labia still clamped and stretched. Like the dentist, the drills however were gone. But there were some differences. She could see that the steel labial, breast, wrist and ankle wires along with their respective pulleys were now attached to a metal framework enclosing the chair. There was a needle taped in place in the crook of her elbow. A tube from the needle led to a drip that hung from the metal frame.

‘Glucose,’ her husband said. ‘It will keep you from going hungry.’

After enjoying the sight of her shock at seeing him, he added, ‘Mr Carter’s gone home.’

Lucinda’s ambitions crumbled around her like pillars of dust. Panic gripped her and twisted. Pee leaked out of her and dripped onto the marble floor like notes of music

Her husband began to pace around her, stopping every time to appreciate her gaping cunt. ‘You see, you made an error of judgement,’ he said. ‘Donald Carter does not own this practice. He’s an employee, and though comfortably off, as would be expected, he cannot possibly afford you…well he can now,’ he added with a chuckle.

He bent close and whispered into Lucinda’s ear. ‘There are many ways to purchase what one wants in life.’

He straightened up and buzzed the intercom, then said, ‘Mr Carter’s retired to Tuscany. Don’t worry, he’s got more than enough money to do whatever he likes, and if he doesn’t find the kind of girl he deserves, he’s got a great video to, how can I put it?…Stimulate himself with.’

He unzipped his trousers and began to masturbate over her cunt. Tears coursed down Lucinda’s face and added to the dark amber piss spreading over the marble around her husband’s feet.

‘I’m taking you home,’ her husband said. ‘And once home, you will stay like this until you learn to crave and love my particular form of sexual expression.’

Outside in a side street, two men, looking as if they were made from shadows, started the truck up that would transport Lucinda back to the marital home.