Shrink

"Are you a nympho?" Biederman asks me, and he pops my bottom hard with the belt again, this time flicking it a little under so it taps a little on my pussy. I whimper.

"Yes..."

He smacks my bottom with the belt again, and then again. "I don't think you believe that," he says, and he pops my bottom again with the belt. He stops and digs in his satchel beside him and pulls out the cuffs. He loops them around my wrists and links them so my wrists are tight together. He fishes around in his satchel again and pulls out the bands that go around my upper arms and snaps them in place, then he clips them together. That pulls my shoulders back, back, my arms together at the elbow and a little further up. It is harder to breathe and so erotic and so hot.

He pulls my right leg closer to him and pulls me up a little so I rock on his ankle again, and I moan and whimper. He adds another clamp to the very end of each nipple, alligator clamps, so cruel and hard and digging into already swollen purple red flesh, and I beg him not to. He laughs and twists them a little.

He spanks me again, with his bare hand this time, a few strokes, but he isn't quite satisfied. He makes me stand, and my legs feel weak and my arms are back, my shoulders back with the cuffs and bands in place. He places a leather strap around my waist and has Dr. Joe help him tighten it. It has two buckles, and they are strong men who can cinch my waist in very tightly. Biederman hooks a heavily knotted cord into one of the belt's front rings and ties it on tightly. He turns me around, away from him, so I am facing Dr. Joe, who braces me, his breath coming fast and excited, but he says nothing, just holds me in place while Biederman pushes my legs apart while I am standing, facing away from him, reaches between my legs, and pulls up the heavy knotted cord. It's a harsh, rough fiber, knotted many times. One of his patients made it at his request. Biederman has me to arch my back, as far as I can, and lean my head back, which tugs on the nipple clamps so painfully but so good. He pulls, hard, dragging the knotted rough hemp between my pussy and my legs, up, between my cheeks, and ties it to a ring on my wrist cuffs, then makes me stand. When I do, the cord is so tight and so short, that just standing pulls it up between my legs even more. He grins and pulls off his pants, around his ankles, so his cock is free, and he sits back down and pats his lap. Dr. Joe has to help me. The cord digs in so tightly. Every time I move, it digs in, and a big knot rubs back and forth my clit, digging inside my pussy, stroking me with bulges, another big knot digging into my anus. He pulls my bottom apart with his hands, squeezing it tightly, digging in with his fingers on the marks from his spanking earlier. He's satisfied and pats his lap again.

I lie down across his lap again, face down, his cock rubbing and jumping against my belly. He pulls my legs wide open and has Dr. Joe sit in a chair and hold my left leg out to the side so it doesn't fall to the floor. Biederman holds my right leg close to him, He pushes my head down some so the cord digs in even more, hurting me but feeling good, and I jerk my head up a little at that and moan.

"No, keep your head down."

He smacks hard with his bare hand on my bottom, and he tells, each time he smacks my bare bottom and I jump, and his smack pushes me down and makes the clamps dig into my flesh more, that a nympho needs punishment, and he smacks. A nympho like me can't help herself, and he smacks again, and a second time. A nympho, he tells me, is a slut who can't help herself, who can't avoid – smack! – putting something in her pussy, no matter what. He picks up his belt again and smacks my bottom with that a few times until I cry and beg him to stop, or to fuck me. He laughs at that and says that is proof. That I will have to be treated for a long, long time because I'm a nympho, and he smacks my bottom with the belt again, and again, until I'm wriggling on his lap, partly to get away, and partly to push the clamps against my clit so I can come. He knows this. His cock is hard, pushing up against my belly. He's panting, but mostly because he's excited, and Dr. Joe is gripping my left ankle hard. Biederman stops for a minute and then slips a finger under the knotted cord and then, he pulls up quickly, hard, and I gasp and moan and jerk. It makes me spasm a little and I shudder and stutter and he laughs. He finally flips me over onto my back, letting my head fall backwards, which pulls on the nipple clamps even more, and Dr. Joe pulls my right leg out now, holding it in his strong hand, a tight grip, and Biederman has my left leg tucked in near him, and he adjusts me until my upper back also hangs off, so the cord is pulled very tightly on my clit and pussy, pressing in on clamps and flesh painfully. He smacks down with the belt then on top of that, and I almost sit up then, and he laughs.

"We should admit her to my clinic for a few days," he told Dr. Joe. "I've got some boys who come in for treatment from the prison who'd love to have some time with her." He smacked down with his belt again and I jerked. "Would you like that?" he asked me. "Would you like some time with men who've been in prison, who haven't been around a real pussy in a long, long time?" He smacked his belt on me again. I moaned. He smacked the belt on the insides of my thighs a few times, laughing.

"I'm going to show them your movie," he said. "The cute little slut cheerleader, getting pumped by all those college football players. What do you think they'll do, those prisoners?" He smacked my pussy again with the belt, and I sobbed.

"I don't know," I say, jerking a little with my hips. He notices and laughs.

"You don't know?" He smacks the belt several times quickly on my clit until I am gasping and begging him to fuck me, please, and he laughs again. "You don't think, when they see your pussy flashing onscreen, and then I toss you in there with them, they won't do anything?"

I moan and start to buck my hips up, up to meet the belt when it smacks down again, and he laughs, and I hear Dr. Joe grunting, which is how he sounds when he's excited. Biederman stops for a minute and pushes the belt against my clit, holding it there, and I push up to it, grinding a little, and he laughs. "A genuine nympho," he congratulates Dr. Joe. "You did good, Joe, bringing her to me." He pushes down with his hand on my clit, and I groan and push against it for relief, rubbing up and down a little. He lifts his hand and I whimper.

"I think I should do that," he says. "It'll be therapy. Therapy for them. Therapy for you." He starts untying the cord from the waist belt, and I groan. It will hurt when he takes it off. "What do you think, Joe?"

Dr. Joe grunts, but he finally pants out, "Yeah." Biederman laughs.

"I think that's what we're going to do then," he tells me. "Punishment and therapy, all in one." He finishes untying the cord, and then plays with the clamps a little, lifting up and then twisting the flesh until I cry out and beg him to please stop, but he won't. "Because I know you like this," he says, and twists again, then smacks my clit with his bare hand. He takes the cord off and puts me on the sofa with my arms still bound and the clamps still on, and he fucks me. I pull my legs up and open them so he can get closer, and he jounces against me and the sofa and is rough and fucks me, while Dr. Joe watches and paws at his crotch, rubbing. When he finishes, he lies on top of me for a while, his weight pushing on me. Then he sits up and pulls the clamps off me, all of them, quick snaps so I moan and twist and try to turn from him, but he grabs me and holds me still. He tells Dr. Joe to have a turn. Dr. Joe wants to take off the wrist and arm bands and cuffs, but Biederman says no. So Dr. Joe fucks me. His glasses fall off at one point, hit my breasts and then bounce onto the floor, but he keeps bouncing up and down in me. I'm panting with pleasure and excitement and pain, keening with it. When he finishes, Biederman turns me over and takes off the wrist and arm cuffs and lets me lie on the sofa, naked, while he puts his pants on again.

"Next time," he says, pointing his finger at me finally, "I'm throwing you in with my prison therapy group. A nympho like you should be able to keep them satisfied." He grins at me, and leaves. Dr. Joe tidies up his office while I dress, and we each leave, and I wonder about next time.