Bad Penny Ch. 11

"I'm glad you came to see me, Sean. And I know that this might sound harsh to start with, but I'm glad to hear that Penny has had a reaction. Anger, denial, grief, guilt, are all quite normal after an assault like that. My fear that night was that she seemed to me to be, well, revelling in it."

"Nikkala, I think you misunderstand me. Her guilt and depression and grief aren't about what was done to her. It isn't about that at all. So far as she is concerned she wasn't assaulted."

Nikkala softly said "Ah." She waited for me to go on.

"She feels a little guilty about having encouraged them and about having enjoyed it so much, but it isn't shame, or blaming herself, she doesn't feel like a victim. It is only because she knew that I would not approve, that I hadn't given her permission to do it. But the main thing that is driving her mad is that what with one thing and another we haven't been able to have sex since. Partly because she is horny and frustrated, but mostly because she is screwed up by some weird ideas she has about me. She is guilt ridden because she can't 'serve my needs'. I have tried to talk her out of it but she is getting more extreme. She wants to debase herself, to be punished, for me to, well, abuse her."

Nikkala had nodded throughout this torrent of my despair. "Well, Sean, that is interesting. Perhaps not unexpected. I had feared that she was, well, self destructive, and had a distorted self image, after seeing her that night. What you have said seems to confirm that, although not quite as I had imagined. Would you mind telling me a little more about Penny's background, and your relationship with her?"

I poured it out. Under her gentle and non-judgemental questioning I told Nikkala everything. Penny's strict religious upbringing, her older, old-fashioned father, how we met, broke up, got together again, how I took her virginity, how we got into swapping and swinging with Mike and Tara, how she had flung herself into it, and into submission, bondage, anal sex, lesbianism, declaring me her Master, wearing a collar or a jewellery chain to represent her slavery, and how she had slipped further into demonstrating her devotion by more and more debasing acts, treating every whim as a command, seeking constantly to please me, demanding that I piss on her to mark her, since I would not let her get a slave tattoo, although she begged me to let her have my name inked on her.

I told her of how I had tried to stop the downward slide, that I had kept away from the swinging group and insisted on her making choices and decisions about how to dress and what to eat and what movie we would see, and how I had tried to make our sex life back into a love life. How I wanted a girlfriend, not a slave, and how it had seemed that she was growing and developing and coming right again before that fateful party.

And I told her about how Penny had been in the last month, how she had again begged me to pee on her, to accept her slave hood. How I refused, and how Penny was now desperate to serve me, to make sure that I was sexually satisfied despite her inability.

"You haven't said much about Tara in all this. Am I right in thinking that she has been an influence on Penny? And on you?"

I shrugged. I told her that I didn't like to discuss other people's secrets, but yes, Tara and Mike were the couple in question who had brought us into the swinging lifestyle, and yes, Tara was the one who started the domination games. And who encouraged Penny into more extreme sex and submission.

Nikkala nodded. "I appreciate your discretion as well as your candour. I have to be discrete too, professionally. But I suspected as much."

Light dawned. "You know Tara because of what happened to her, when she was a kid?"

She gave me an appraising look. Then said "We are not supposed to make friends with clients, but sometimes... You know then, about that?"

"Her brother..."

"Yes. I have often felt that Tara has a long way to go yet. I have hopes for her though. She started to get interested in spiritual ideas that were close to mine, but in recent years... Anyway, to get back to Penny, you mentioned her 'inability' to have sex for the last month. You didn't say why. I take it that it is a result if what was done to her?"

"It started the next day. Cystitis and Thrush. I took her to the STD clinic on the Monday, and they checked her out, blood tests and all, and called her back on the Friday. More tests, another internal examination. The story came out because they demanded names - gonorrhoea is reportable. She couldn't give them, they agreed it was rape, Police got called. She wouldn't co-operate with them, saying it wasn't. I got interviewed. I could give names, and descriptions, but they won't do anything without her. The cops were pretty nasty to me, until I suggested that she was scared, and told them what I had heard about those men. Then the cops agreed. They knew some of the names. Those guys are real trouble. Of course I got tested, and so did Mike, and Tara. We are all clear. I told Ian to go in, he didn't want to but I threatened to tell his girlfriend. Luckily he was clear too. Seems like it was one of the gang. Or maybe all of them. They found lesions as well. She hadn't told me she had been passing blood."

"Poor girl. Will she be okay?"

"Fingers crossed. She is healing and the drugs are working, and she should get the all clear soon. But it is her head that is worrying me. She is, well, just mad. Crying and clingy and telling me I should leave her and begging me not to. She even tried setting up evenings with other girls for me. And she just won't do anything for herself. I have to choose every meal, every TV program, where we go, what she does. It is driving me nuts."

We talked for a long time. About Penny, about me, about her. We got onto religion and spirituality, Tantra and sex in all it's varied wonder. We kept circling back to what I wanted, how I had felt, how Penny had acted in all sorts of situations. It came back to a discussion about the effect that the infection was having on her self image. I wondered aloud if there was more than I knew about, since Penny seemed so incredibly freaked out and would not let me touch her bare skin at all. Nikkala gave me a sharp look when I said that, and asked why.

"Paranoid about giving me it. Says she is still infectious. Although I find it hard to believe after two courses of antibiotics. She says we have to wait a few weeks"

Nikkala shook her head and said "Nonsense. Hang on a moment, I will ring the Unit."

She called the GUM unit at the hospital and spoke to Penny (and my) consultant. I wasn't surprised that they were on first name terms. She told him truthfully that she had me in her office, talking about Penny, although the implication that this was official was a lie by omission. She filled me in on the consultant's responses.

It was another layer of complexity to consider. We had more coffee, and time wore on.

We came to a silent pause in the end, after I had commented that I was scared that Penny now seemed to be testing my resolve, trying to push me away, and that it was beginning to work.

"You care for her. You want to help her. But you fear that she will become dependent on you. You don't want to make that commitment. Because you think that you will leave her. You don't see yourself staying forever. But you feel you can't leave her because she is vulnerable. Yes?"

"Yes. I suppose you are right. Yes," I said miserably.

"You are not a client, so I can advise you as a friend. I wouldn't say this normally, and it goes against my usual beliefs, but this is a strange case. She needs help. I think she needs professional help, but I absolutely believe you are right in saying she won't take it. So if you want to help her then I think you have very few choices and all of them are hard.". She ticked them off on her fingers "One: You could leave her. It might be best for you in the long and short run, and she might be jolted into action. But she would be left vulnerable. Most likely she would seek out another man who would dominate her and abuse her. "Two: remain her boyfriend, but insist she live with her parents. Send her home. They would give her the stability and control she needs, and she would not look for another man, and she might revert to habits from childhood - still open to manipulation and still submissive, but at least in some sort of socially functional, controlled way. But in the end, you would have to take her back to live with you, or leave her. She might be a bit better, but ... Three: (and this by the way is the solution that I find it incredible that I am suggesting) bite the bullet and be it. Do what she needs you to do. Be her Master. Dominate her. Give her the control and sense of being owned that she needs. Then, slowly, you might be able to get her to accept more responsibility to please you. Reward her, as her Master, as a good slave, for making your life easier by taking care of herself. The downside is that you may find it hard to get her to do that, and if you leave her in the end she may collapse back into submissive mode and find a willing abuser. I also want to say that I am only suggesting you do this because having talked to you I trust you. I think you have her best interest in mind. I don't think that you want to abuse her, or enjoy it. Although you are not immune to the rush of power and the joy of dominance. But your disgust at her 'crawling' strikes me as the right attitude, as long as you can control the anger. To do this you would have to play a long game. And to be honest, I suspect that Penny will never be the girl you want her to be. She will never be carefree and independent and spontaneous. She might be wild and a libertine, as long as she has your permission, but she will always look for external validation, and be vulnerable to undermining. I have seen hundreds of women like her, in abusive relationships, bringing the abuse on themselves. Convinced it is their fault. And convinced that is what love is all about. "

"But I don't want to do that. I love her, yes, and that is why I don't want to do those things to her."

"But to her that is love. Those men, let's be honest here, raped her and used her and didn't care a damn about her. But she felt loved by them."

I goggled in horror. The idea was appalling.

"I mean it. She felt loved. Because they were willing to have sex with her, proving she was sexy, lovely, lovable, attractive. Deep down it showed her that they thought she was a good mate, potential mother of their children, partner for life. And they proved themselves worthy because they acted like Alpha males, taking her without asking, assuming her submission and inferiority."

I shook my head. This made no sense.

She smiled and said "You don't get it. Which is good. That is why I can suggest it to you. If you got it then you would be the sort of man who would take advantage of it. You would abuse her. But I don't think you would. Which is why I fear that you couldn't do it. If you try to be her Master, you might just perpetuate her submissive desires, fail to meet them, and find yourself back in the same state in six months or a year. I you do this you have to lead her to independence, not drive her, and not find her own way. It will be hard to do. And as I say, you might never get there."

I began to see what she was saying, and to see the problems. "But it might be the best thing to try. I can't leave her. And I can't send her back to her parents. That wouldn't work. And you are right, treating her like a grown up and an equal isn't working. Being gentle isn't doing it."

"Tantra might help. Not just the sex part, but meditation and developing her inner world. I can help with that. If you like."

We talked on for a little longer, and I made up my mind. I returned home with a new purpose.

Penny was in the living room when I arrived back.

She was dressed in comfortable, but scruffy, sweatshirt and sweatpants. Her hair was caught in an untidy knot at the back. She had no make-up on, and her nails were uneven and unpolished. I had not realised how she had given up on her personal grooming. It was so unlike her. She didn't look up, or speak to me as I entered.

I took a deep breath and went to stand before her. I spoke in a gentle tone as I said "What have you been up to today?"

"Not a lot."

"Well, I have an idea for this evening. Would you like to go and get changed to go out?"

She looked listless and said "Okay."

No enthusiasm, no energy, no curiosity.

"Maybe you had better have a bath first?" I said. "Or a shower. It would be quicker."

"Yeah, okay."

She got up and sloped off toward the bathroom as I made myself a cup of coffee. I gave her a few minutes, and then went to the bathroom door. I heard the shower start. I stripped.

When I opened the door to the bathroom she was standing with her back to me, her head under the running water. She didn't hear me cross the room, and jumped in surprise when I touched her shoulder.

I spun her round to face me and looked her up and down. She covered herself with her hands and said "What are you doing?"

"Deciding." I said, in quite a hard, cold tone.

"What?"

"Whether to keep you. You know, I think I shall."

"What?" she said again, looking slightly fearful.

I reached out and grabbed her hair. I pushed her down to her knees and bent her head back. She looked up at me with wide eyes. It was the most alive she had looked for days. I turned off the water.

"I wanted you to be my girlfriend Penny Harty. But I have changed my mind. You are much better as a slave. So I am going to keep you as my Girl. Now move your hands, I want to see your tits, Girl."

The look on her face was mixed: fear and elation. She slid her hands back from her breasts. "Good. Nice tits. I like sucking them, and seeing them, and being wanked over them. Remember that. If you want to please me you will not conceal them from again. You will have to wear clothes of course. And lingerie that conceals and reveals is pleasing, but if I ever walk in a room were you are naked you are never to cover them with your hands again. They are mine to look at whenever I wish. Understand?"

Her voice almost cracked as she said "Yes, Master."

"And your cunt." I said, harshly. Her eyes went wide again. I almost never used that word. I would call it her 'pussy' but the 'C' word was crude, not part of my normal vocabulary. "If you ever cover your cunt again I will punish you. From now on it is not your cunt at all. It is mine. Mine to look at and mine to fuck. And you will not show it to anyone else or let them touch it or fuck it, or your ass, without my permission. You will not suck anyone else's cock, or lick their cunt without my permission. You will not show your tits to others without my permission. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," this time her voice was steadier.

"And you will never lie to me again to avoid having sex with me."

"Oh."

"Yes, I know. You finished your antibiotics a week ago and the test was done, and you got your result. What was it?"

"Nothing there, Master. All gone." She would have hung her head in shame if I was not holding her hair.

"And the lesions in your ass?"

"The doctor did say they would take longer to heal. He cautioned me not to have sex that way again, but if I was going to, then to leave it a least two months. Honestly Master."

"So when you said you couldn't do it for two months you meant anal? But you knew three days ago that oral or in your pussy was fine?"

"Yes Master. I'm sorry Master, I thought you didn't want me any more and it would be easier for you not to have to do it with me if I lied."

"If I want to do it to you I will. If I want to fuck your ass right now I will. Understand?"

"Yes, Master." She looked overawed now.

"Not that I want to do that. I will wait until you are healed. There is no point in damaging my property."

"Thank you, Master."

"Now, open your legs and lean back. I want to see your cunt."

She still looked scandalised as I let go of her hair, but she did as she was told. "Hold your ankles. Open your knees more. Stay like that. Now look up at the ceiling. Open your mouth."

I let go with a stream of piss onto her chest, playing it down her body to her bush and back up over her breasts, saying "Do you give yourself to me as your Master, and promise to do as I wish?"

"Yes Master."

"Keep your mouth open."

I moved the jet up. I soaked her, face and hair. It passed over her open mouth and I am sure it hit her in the nostrils.

Penny flinched but held her position.

I was suddenly filled with unexpected and mixed emotions. On my way home I had steeled myself to do this, reluctantly deciding that it had to be done. The idea was distasteful. Now I found myself gleeful, the feeling of power and control, and the release of my anger and frustration, overwhelming my disgust.

And I felt desire. It was true: I had not wanted to have sex with Penny. The diseases and the sordid way she got them had revolted me, no matter how hard I tried to be supportive and caring for her. In honesty, I had not wanted to touch her. She was dirty, unclean, tainted.

Now I felt desire again. Her naked body at my feet, exposed and vulnerable, still lithe and toned, was mine to ravish. And I knew she would do anything to please me. I didn't need or want to abuse that desire, but I could relish the results.

I stepped forward, straddling her and looking down. "Kiss your Master's balls, Penny."

She did as she was told. Gently, smiling, happy.

"Lick them."

She did as she was told. Softly, warmly, using her whole tongue, no hesitation.

"Now lick my ass."

She did as she was told. Enthusiastically, craning her neck to get between my legs, her nose pressing between my balls.

I turned on the shower again and briefly gave my very erect cock a couple of strokes as she tongued me. I could easily have come in a few more seconds. I reached down and pulled her head back up, enjoying the way she kept licking me as her mouth was brought back under my balls and up level with my shaft. Her eyes were smiling. I held her with both hands on her head and looked down at her again and said "Suck my dick, Girl."

I let her take the tip and suck it for a moment before I pushed my hips forward and pressed it into her throat. "That's good Girl," I said as I pulled it back and she gulped air. "Now do it again."

She lunged forward, taking my shaft all the way, pulling herself onto my cock with her two hands on my buttocks. She bounced back and did it again. I was fucking her mouth, or she was face fucking herself, whichever way you looked at it she was deep-throating me, and sucking me on the withdrawal.

Again I felt myself close to coming, and had to restrain her. I held her head away from my cock, and she looked up at me with her mouth still open, hoping to suck me again, hoping I would come in her mouth. "You are getting good at that, Girl," I said. "But I don't want to come in your mouth just yet. I will rest a moment while you wash your hair, and then I want you to soap up your tits and wank me with them."

She was quick to grab the shampoo and say "Yes Master."

As she worked the lather through her long dark hair I leaned back against the wall and watched her. The movements made her breasts move in a very watch-able way. "When did you last masturbate?" I asked.

She looked shamefaced and said "This afternoon, when you went out, Master."

"Did you use any toys?"

"No, just my fingers, Master."

"Do you frig yourself every day?"

She blushed, but said "Most days, Master."

"I am not annoyed that you do it, Girl. But from now on you must ask my permission. I will let you, as long as you have been good, or unless I have other plans. But I expect you to masturbate every day, unless you have been exhausted by other activity. So if you have not already done it during the day I expect you to ask me for permission to frig yourself when we go to bed. Understand?"