Becoming Mrs. Pleasure

"I understand, but please don't hurt me," she begged.

He laughed. It was a cruel, sinister laugh.

"I can smell your arousal slut," he said.

It was true. Her thighs were damp from her weeping vagina. The smell of her own musk was filling her nostrils like some farm animal. She had never been so aroused or so ashamed in her life. Her body was betraying her. Even as she foresaw the pain, that was to come, she wanted this man more than any she had known.

Lynsey turned away from his eyes as much as she could,"Please have some pity," she begged.

He only laughed again, "This is your chance, whore. Accept the pain and embrace what you are without the selfish pretensions."

Then he pulled her to the cross. He lifted her into the bindings like she weighed nothing and bound her in so tight that she screamed as her breast were pushed into the leather. Her chest was raw and now discolored by the restriction in the blood flow. Yet she resisted not at all as he bound her face into the wall.

It was as if she were being held by some force in the room around her that stripped away the confident person she had always been and left this weak helpless female in her place. Then he whispered in her ear, "We are going to see whether you pass out from the pain or orgasm first. You see slut, I know you."

She heard herself moan as if from a distance. His hand pushed between her spread legs, and roughly fingered her sex. Instead of trying to wriggle away her body tried to move into him, but the leather straps held her tight.

"Not yet bitch, first we must kiss."

She couldn't see him. He was behind her. She heard a sharp crack and then came the pain. It felt like a swarm of bees had stung her.

"Ask me to please kiss you again," he said.

"Please—"

Crack came the blow it felt just a little harder, stung just a little more. He made her ask for another kiss. Each kiss a stroke of pain. She was weeping and begging for him to stop but also begging to be kissed. Every few minutes he stopped and crudely groped her sex.

There was no love in his touch and no hint of desire. Yet her arousal was humiliatingly clear to both of them. The beating went on and on until she was actually was begging for each stroke. Her mind seemed to go to some other place. Was this disassociation she asked herself?

Her orgasm crept up on her. Her body had a will of its own. She screamed out in the most intense mix of pain and pleasure. She shook in her bonds and continued to tremble long after the waves of pleasure had subsided into a warm feeling. Only then did she realize he had not stopped the whipping.

The pain had been replaced by some unknown feeling. He paused came close to her gently kissed her forehead.

"Very good slut, I knew you were meant for this. Such a sexual bitch."

She could smell him and from the corner of her eye, she saw the sweat dripping from his body.

"Do you want more?" he asked.

"Please more kisses," she begged.

He pulled her head back and kissed her full on the lips. Then he began beating her slowly letting her savor every painful stroke until she passed out.

_________________________________________

Lynsey awoke with the morning light. She was in her own bed with her husband sleeping next to her.

"Had it been a dream?"

She reached for the collar it was gone. Then the pain hit like an unpleasant memory. She struggled out of bed and to the long closet mirror. From the top of her buttocks to her knees she was one long dark bruise. No skin breaks only a long discoloration of her pale skin. Her breasts were sore but showed barely a mark. She had one pale bruise on her cheek

Richard stirred in their bed. Lynsey hurried to cover herself and apply makeup to her face and breasts. Richard must never know. She felt the pain and humiliation of her beating and something else. She could never have described it, a sense of satisfaction and a memory of extreme pleasure. But her husband must not know. She felt more disloyal than she ever had.

Lynsey spent all Saturday and Sunday hiding her back from her husband. At dinner with her parents, she was almost tripped up when her mother asked why she was moving about so stiffly. Lynsey brushed it off saying she had back pain from sitting too long in her job.

Sunday night she lay on her back while they made love in the missionary position. Oddly the pain she felt being pressed into the bed on her sore behind made her climax long before her husband. Richard seemed to notice nothing strange in her behavior. The question was who was fooling who?

It wasn't until Monday that the spell wore off. She had been on some strange high over the weekend, but Monday she began to crash and that afternoon Sara found Lynsey hysterically weeping at her desk.

"What's wrong?" Sara asked.

"I don't know." said a bewildered Lynsey.

"Does this involve Richard?" Sara asked.

"No, not Richard."

"Rick then?"

Lynsey nodded her head. Sara hugged her friend and let Lynsey tell the story of her night with Rick in a small quiet voice.

When Lynsey was done Sara spoke in as steady and even voice as she could.

"You need to leave him," Sara said.

"But he'll tell Richard what I am. What, I did. He knows everything. How I got my job. The things we did."

Sara was the highest paid deputy at Chester Health. She had often been Lynsey's partner in what they had referred to as contract negotiations. Sara had seen no harm in it then. It was only after Lynsey's marriage that Sara's morality kicked in. What a woman did with her own body was her business, but when a third party was involved Sara drew the line.

"This is different girlfriend. Richard is seriously ill. Whatever is going on in his mind this Rick persona is dangerous."

"But I will lose Richard."

"Don't you see how dangerous this Rick is. He tortured you and even worse he made you want it. Promise me no matter what you will not have anything to do with this Rick again."

Lynsey promised, but it was a promise she could not keep.

____________________________________________________

Once again, Lynsey was strapped to the cross in the lower level of 10 Everett Lane. Rick had only to say come and she went to him. The first few times she had argued with herself tried to resist, but it was no use. Now she just came when he called like a loyal dog. She came to be tortured, abused, and humiliated. It would be cruel to treat an animal the way he treated her.

It was no use fighting. He could do with her as he pleased. She was fixed to a wall, and he had stopped beating her only because he had grown tired. It was late or early depending on your viewpoint. It was long past midnight, but she had grown used to this. Tonight he was talkative. That was the worst because she had no good answer to his questions.

"Why did you come tonight?" he asked.

"You know," she replied. Every part of her body hurt. It was a dull ache most places, but her back and arms tormented her from hanging so long.

"No, you need to tell me."

"Richard, he mustn't know,"

"What if he wakes and finds you gone?"

"He can't while I'm with you," she replied without hesitation.

"You know that do you, but why protect Richard?"

"I love him."

"Can a whore like you love?"

"Yes, a whore can love," and then very quietly, "We love more."

"Tell me. Why Richard?" he said showing for the first time interest in his voice.

She turned her head for as far as she was able in order to look at him. He was a half-naked sweating brute.

"I love Richard because he is what you and all other men are not. He is good, gentle, kind, and he loves me."

"Yet, you betrayed him."

She began to weep again. She had thought she had run out of tears, but they came again, "What do you want from me? I'm a filthy slut."

He ran his hand down her back making her whimper with the pain. He found her sex a swamp between her spread legs. She was by this time of the night on the verge of orgasm. He stimulated her till she was almost ready, and then the whip struck. She screamed in pain and then with her orgasm. Now it would go on until she passed out.

__________________________________________

Months passed, and Sara began to notice a change in Lynsey's behavior. At first, it was simply the constant tension she seemed to be under and the sharp mood swings from depression to euphoria. But the giveaway was her change in dress.

Lynsey had always dressed the very epitome of a high-powered executive woman; over-tailored designer suits with skirts just short enough to showcase her legs. Her blouses were always open enough to give a hint of lace bra if a man stood just right. She was sex wrapped in power. She was a woman that men desired and other women envied.

The new Lynsey's skits were to the knee. She wore flats not heels. Her high collars covered most of her neck. The change in her dress brought a change in personality. She was shy and quiet. She came to work and worked. She never left for lunch, and Sara was not sure she ate lunch at all.

It all came to a head the day Sara entered her office to find a jittery squirming Lynsey staring at her desk phone.

"What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit, what are you doing?" Sara replied.

"Waiting for a call."

"Your secretary will get it when it comes in," Sara said.

"No, you don't understand. I need permission."

"What are you talking about, permission for what?"

"I need to pee," Lynsey said unable to sit still.

Just then the phone rang, "Yes, yes, I understand. Thank you," Lynsey said into her phone.

Sara stood amazed hearing only one side of the conversation. Lynsey hung up and rushed to the bathroom. Sara followed.

"Who was on the phone?" Sara demanded.

Lynsey had rushed into a stall but failed to close the stall door. She pulled her skirt up and began to pee. She didn't sit down, and Sara could clearly see that Lynsey wore no underwear.

"I need some kind of explanation here," Sara said, but Lynsey ignored her as her urine splashed into the bowl.

"This is Richard's doing. Isn't it." Sara insisted.

"No, don't be ridiculous. Richard's gone for the day. He left last night he'll be back tomorrow. He's gone to the baseball playoffs," Lynsey replied.

"Rick then?" Sara said.

Lynsey didn't respond. Sara stepped into the stall. Lynsey was a few inches taller than Sara, but Sara was in three-inch heels to Lynsey's flats. Sara grabbed the collar of Lynsey's blouse and pulled in down revealing the pink dog collar."

"Oh. Lynsey, how can you let him do this to you?"

"I can't help it when I woke up this morning the collar was still there. I have to obey him while I wear it."

"Why, tell me why?"

"Because," Lynsey said pushing her friend out of the stall and locking the stall door.

Sara didn't know what to do. Lynsey was losing her grip. The once proud executive was becoming a pawn in a sadistic game. Sara needed help.

_____________________________________________

"Sara, good to see you. Please come in," Cate Coplin said.

"Thank you, doctor, it's about—"

"Lynsey. I've been half expecting you. It's a sad case indeed."

"I know that she spoke to you about Richard's problem, but it's getting worse," Sara said.

Dr. Coplin hesitated before responding but then made a decision.

"Please keep this confidential but as far as I'm aware Richard has no problem. He was seen by Dr. Marks, who declared him in good mentally health. In fact, Allen Marks believed him the most unaffected of any combat veteran he had seen."

"But what about this Rick thing?" Sara asked.

"You and I have known Lynsey a long time. We know the kind of women she is or at least the kind of woman she was. Let's be honest with ourselves. What Lynsey did was self-destructive. Deep down she feels that she should be punished—"

"Really doctor isn't that a bit chauvinistic. Good for the goose but not the gander," Sara protested.

"I'm not talking morals here. I'm talking emotions. Lynsey married a good man. Someone who is kind and very gentle. A man who would do anything for her. In an ideal world, she would put her past behind her and started fresh. But we both know Lynsey. She couldn't stop," Cate said as she steepled her hands beneath her chin in thought.

"Sorry doctor, I know Lynsey. If you think she was guilty a little bit, sure because we all are from time to time. But face up to it, Richard Pleasure is a beta male, the kind of guy most women cheat on at some point in a marriage. He is the typical faithful, loving husband, but he's married to an alpha female. Some cheating is inevitable. My problem with Lynsey was that she was pushing it. You need to keep things within limits after marriage. Give the guy his due so to speak."

"Well, that certainly is a modernist view of things, but such rationalist thinking doesn't always play well with our psyches. Lynsey refuses to seek therapy, so I can't help her. But can't you and she even consider that this Rick character is a manifestation of her extreme emotional guilt over her actions?" Dr. Coplin concluded.

"I don't know. Would even a man like Richard put up with what Lynsey was doing. I can see overlooking the past and once in a while turning a blind eye," Sara said.

"You've hit the real give away here. Richard is your average man. They never suspect their wife of cheating. Most never discover her infidelity and those that do...well, it is only because she let him know. We have no reason to think that Richard knows anything beyond the fact that his wife is currently acting a bit strange."

"You're saying Richard is ignorant, but Rick knows everything?"

"I'm saying that Rick is as well informed as Lynsey. He knows what she does," Dr. Coplin said.

"So Lynsey is actually Rick punishing herself?" Sara asked.

"Do you have a better explanation. Richard is a beta male as you say and a clueless one at that."

"Well thank you, doctor. It's hard to accept, but maybe," Sara said.

"But who had Lynsey been talking to on the phone?" she wondered

Lynsey was nowhere to be found when Sara returned to her desk. She thought a minute and then decided to call Richard. His cell phone didn't answer. She tried to leave a voice mail, but the box was full.

"Of course," she thought, "Lynsey's been calling him all day, and he finally called her back. What can Richard be thinking about his wife's strange behavior? Does he understand what is happening to her?"

Richard was the preverbal nice guy. He was the sort you marry. The guy you had kids with knowing he would share the burdens of parenthood. The guy who would walk the floor with a crying baby at two in the morning. And the husband you took advantage of. The fellow who would mind the kids when you needed to work late. Even when the work was you slipping between the sheets with someone else.

In short, Richard was the perfect husband for a ladder climbing executive woman, and the very man to care for a woman who was losing her mind

"Well, he's due back tomorrow I'll talk to him then," Sara said to herself.

_________________________________

The master bedroom of 10 Everett Lane was at the back of the upper level. The house had been undergoing changes. Hardwood floors had appeared on the upper level. Carpeting covered the lower level. The Walls were clear of graffiti and painted in complementary pastels.

It was furnished with modest contemporary furniture. The house was what you might expect to find in any middle-class subdivision. The woman on the Queen size bed was face down with her hands held behind her neck. She wept into the mattress as the man fucked her.

He was anything, but tender and his act had neither love nor desire in it. Her body teetered on the edge of orgasm, but she dares not cross over. She would be punished for the slightest transgression. Being a whore who took pleasure from fornication was unacceptable behavior.

Lynsey cried and longed for Richard's gentle touch. For the sweet way, he made love to her, for the warmth of his kisses, and the comfort of his arms. Richard was a memory that seems to recede and dissipate like the morning mist from a summer's garden. Rick's cock drove mercilessly into her sore pussy. It was unfeeling, uncaring, and unloving. He was a brutal man making his brutal use of her.

Without thinking she called, "Richard—please come for me."

He grabbed her hair pulled her head back.

"You love him don't you?" he demanded.

"Yes, please don't hurt me anymore," she begged.

"Why, why love him went he is so weak?"

"Because he is not like us. He is good."

"You discuss me."

"I know, I know."

_________________________________________

"Where the hell are you Lynsey?" Sara asked herself.

"Talking to yourself now?" Simone Kirkland said.

"Oh, hi," Sara said, "What brings you here?"

"I'm looking for that troll, Dubin. Have you seen him?" Simone asked.

"Not lately, why?"

"Well, you won't believe this, but the troll told my husband all about what I used to do to get the odd contract signed."

Sara's heart froze, "how would Dubin know your husband?"

"That stupid Memorial day picnic.

"Why would Dubin do that."

"The idiot was telling tales to the other male assholes. How a man can't get ahead with the women spreading for prospective clients. He just didn't know who was who. I guess more than just my husband heard the stories he was spreading. I had a hell of a time convincing Jack it was just gossip."

"What was he saying?"

"You know how we would party with customers and how closing a contract usually involved an exchange of favors. Don't get me wrong, I'm not ashamed of my youthful endeavors, and I don't hesitate still to put out if a big commission is involved. But that is the kind of thing best kept from husbands," Simone said.

"Did your husband say who else might have heard?"

"No, but Jack knew almost no one else except Richard and well, I guess they have some kind of history. Jack refuses to discuss Richard. He actually suggested that I have nothing to do with Lynsey because she is married to Richard."

"But did Richard hear Dubin's gossip?" Sara asked.

"I would assume so. From what Jack says it was all over."

"Oh my God."

"What?"

"Don't you see? Richard knows and has known all along. He's Rick," Sara proclaimed.

________________________________________________

Daniel Sutherland was the son of a brigadier general. Sara met Dan when he was in his final year at West Point, and she was a sophomore at Vassar. The romance between the starry-eyed co-ed and the handsome cadet burned hot until he graduated. Marriage was never in the picture. Romance came second to ambition with both.

They exchanged letters during his first tour in Iraq. Dan was a staff officer writing his girl back home sweet meaningless letters. Sara had moved on, of course, but still wrote letters to the brave soldier serving abroad. On his leave, things picked up but weren't the same. Dan returned to duty as a line officer for the minimally acceptable time before a posting to a staff captain's job in Afghanistan

Sara graduated and went to work with Lynsey at Chester Health. Her rise was not as precipitous as her lover's. Dan was now a Lieutenant Colonel recently assigned back to West Point to lecture on the problems in the Afghanistan situation.

The couple had never stopped writing, but the romance had cooled to a long distance friendship. It was natural that Sara would turn to Dan for help. In her mind, he was the very essence of a soldier. She should have contacted him sooner when the initial questions about Richard had surfaced.

They met at the Hilton Garden Inn in Newburg. It was convenient to both with a modest restaurant in the lobby and very suitable rooms for some friends with benefits action after dinner.