Sacrifice of Suffering

Editor's Note: this fictional work contains an image.

SACRIFICE OF SUFFERING

A novella by (redacted)

THE COVER ART

THE BACK COVER TEXT

"I'm sure you know, Ms. Li, that we make adult films here. We're used to working with professionals. They come to work, sign releases, strip, do what they're told, scream in all the right places, then clean themselves up, get dressed, get paid, and go home to recover. You're different. Do you understand that?"

The manager of Midnite Productions doesn't know what to do with Lisa Li. The young Chinese American -- a businesswoman, not a porn actress -- wants to be brutally sodomized and caned, with every ghastly detail captured in HD video. She's offering one hundred thousand dollars, cash, with no come-back. It's unprecedented.

Helen, the manager, reluctantly accepts the contract, fully expecting Lisa to call her safe word and limp away. Nurse Doro tries to protect her as she endures the ministrations of Bud the Stud, a man who's "part dairy bull," and Mistress Gale the dominatrix, whose cool professionalism is a brittle shell covering her raging sadism.

The question hanging over the set is -- why? Why would a young woman, a self-described virgin to BDSM, do this to herself? The answers lies in the past; in a miserable childhood in Hong Kong, and the tenets of traditional Chinese religion.

This novella by (redacted) is a work of fiction by an academic with a deep knowledge of both American and Chinese culture. He has fashioned an entertaining, erotic story filled with wry humor and human insights.

THE CHAPTERS

1. Negotiation. In which Our Heroine makes some extraordinary requests.

2. Oral. In which Our Heroine gets her first taste of the coming ordeal.

3. Anal. In which Our Heroine gets down to fundamentals.

4. First Intermission. In which Our Heroine learns more about the people she's hired, and vice versa.

5. Pain. In which Our Heroine feels the full impact of what she's set into motion.

6. Second Intermission: In which Our Heroine and her chief tormentor exchange ultimatums.

7. More Pain. In which Our Heroine surmounts her final obstacles, at great cost.

8. Revelation. In which Our Heroine provides some long-awaited explanations, followed by a Happy Ending.

SACRIFICE OF SUFFERING

The Story

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. -- Elie Wiesel

1. Negotiation

In which Our Heroine makes

some extraordinary requests

"You understand, Ms. Li, that this studio makes commercial porn. We've never done a vanity project."

The speaker was Helen Holder, CEO of Midnite Productions. She was sitting on a massive black leather sofa at one end of her office, flanked by two other women. She was speaking to a woman perched on an equally massive sofa on the other side of a glass coffee table, a small Chinese

whose dainty feet barely touched the carpet.

"Please call me Lisa," the small woman said. "And yes, I understand that. Hence my offer."

"Which was very generous. One hundred thousand dollars for a few hours' work would be typical for a Disney or Spielberg production."

"And yet you turned it down."

"Well, Ms. Li - Lisa - it usually works like this around here. We hire professional BDSM actors. They show up, strip, scream at the appropriate places, clean themselves up, get paid, and go home to heal. They'd never think of charging us with assault. We'd simply show the judge some clips of their earlier work, and they'd be laughed out of court."

"I'd be prepared to sign any sort of release you require."

"Which goes without saying. Ordinarily, we would still pass. But when you offered us an extra ten large just to take a meeting, we decided what the hell - let's see what the woman has to say."

"Which was very kind of you."

"We don't do kind around here. By the way, these are my right- and left-hand ladies. Gale Armstrong, my senior producer and star domina, and Nurse Dorothy Marks, whose usual job is to limit and repair the damage that Gale does. The guy perched on the desk over there is Jimmy, my chief cinematographer."

Gale Armstrong, on Helen's right, was a bull dyke of the most extreme variety; slender, muscular, peroxide blonde hair cut in a half-inch Mohawk, large asymmetrical earrings, a black halter top, and tight black leather pants tucked into Doc Marten motorcycle boots. Her skimpy top revealed a solid mass of tattoos; dragons, snakes, and images of nude women twisted in postures of agony. Her makeup-free face would have been conventionally pretty had it not been for her customary expression; lips set in a thin hard line and cold ice-blue eyes. She sat with her legs crossed at the knee, right over left; the right foot twitched impatiently.

Dorothy Marks, APRN BSN, aka Doro, lounged on the other end of the sofa in green scrubs and white sneakers. She was a tall woman with an hourglass figure. Grey streaks in her shoulder-length brown hair and laugh lines on her open, friendly face revealed her forty-plus years of age.

Their boss Helen was older than Doro, but better maintained. Her thick silver hair, cut in a European-style mushroom, framed green eyes and a tanned face, which meticulous surgery had restored to a teenager's satiny texture. For this meeting she was wearing a cream-colored linen pantsuit, a bright Hermes scarf, and white Manolo Blahnik sandals with medium heels.

"So tell us about yourself," Helen said.

"I'm Lisa Li Sau Fong, a native of Hong Kong, now an American citizen living in San Francisco. I'm the owner-proprietor of Lucky Dragon PLL, an import firm specializing in traditional Chinese crafts and medicines." Her high-pitched voice was firm, with only a trace of accent. Her hair, pulled back in a French roll, was glossy black; her smooth ivory complexion was flawless. She could have been any age between 18 and 50. A perfect China doll, Helen thought admiringly.

"Thank you," Helen said. "We've all had a chance to read through your proposal, but I'm sure these two will have questions. Ladies?"

Gale the domina went first. "I just don't get it." She waved a piece of paper bearing the creases of a business envelope. "How many women just walk in off the street, asking to be fucked with like this? Especially rich women? I assume you're rich because of your clothes, shoes, bag, the money you're waving around, and the limo you arrived in. By the way, is your driver sitting out there in the heat, waiting for you?"

"No, I told him to go find a Starbucks. I said I'll call him."

"Great. Anyway, what the fuck is going on? You'll have to pardon my rough language. I'm a rough bitch."

"I'd really prefer to keep my reasons to myself," Lisa said.

Doro the nurse sat forward and looked at Lisa intently. "As Helen said, Lisa, we're used to working with professionals. You're different. Do you understand how different?"

"Yes."

"And that," Helen said, picking up the theme from Doro, "is why we can't allow any suggestion of coercion on our part. Here in your proposal" - she consulted the paper - "you say that you want to be restrained and gagged. Well, a gag is out of the question, because you wouldn't be able to call your safe word. Which you haven't told us. Do you know what a safe word is?"

"Well - actually, no."

"It's a word or phrase that stops everything. If you say your safe word at any time, the scene is over. Restraints come off, meds are applied, we give you whatever we've recorded up to that point, and we all go home. So - what's your safe word?"

Lisa paused. "I've never thought about it."

"Pick a word that would never be used in a sexual context."

"Here's a hint," Gale butted in. "Make sure it's unambiguous. For example, 'Harder' would not be a good safe word." She leered, revealing alarmingly large, white teeth.

"Thank you for your ever-valuable input, Gale," Helen said with some asperity. "Any ideas, Lisa?"

"Broccoli. My safe word is broccoli."

"Great. And understand, we can't gag you. You'll have to be free to speak that word at any time."

"I understand."

"I've got a couple more questions," the nurse said. "First, you say you want to experience deep fellatio - so-called deep throating. Have you ever done anything like that, ever?"

"Not quite. Although I have been practicing."

"How?"

"I started with peeled cucumbers, then bought several dildos ranging in size from small to large."

"I see. And have you had anything to eat today?"

"No. I've had nothing but water since midnight, except for that one cup of coffee."

"Excellent. Now let's talk about anal. Same question. Ever done it?"

"No, not with a man. Although I have experience with butt plugs and dildos."

"How much experience?

"Some years."

"Hmmm. Have you done any preparation today?"

"I did the same prep I once did before a colonoscopy. No solids for 24 hours, a purgative, two Fleet enemas this morning."

"Good. So -- have you ever had a really hard caning, whipping, paddling, or anything similar, on your buttocks, back, or anywhere?"

"No. Never. When it comes to any of those particular experiences, I am a virgin." A hint of an ironic smile.

"Do you have any idea what it's like?"

"No, but I'm determined to experience it. And I will, with your help."

Doro turned to Helen, shrugged. "I'm not happy, but I'm satisfied." Helen turned to Gale, who also shrugged; You're the boss. There were a few seconds of silence.

"OK, I've made up my mind," Helen said. "We'll do your project, subject to conditions. There will be no, repeat no, refund if you call safe. If we only record five minutes, that's twenty thousand dollars per minute, which is the sort of production cost one associates with a major studio film. Do you understand and accept the no-refund policy?"

"I understand, and I accept." Lisa smiled and visibly relaxed. Fuck me, Gale thought. She wasn't nervous about being face-fucked, ass-fucked and flogged; she was nervous about not being face-fucked, ass-fucked and flogged.

"So be it," Helen said. "As a gesture of goodwill, and as proof that we sadists are not also thieves, I'm going to apply the ten you gave us for this meeting toward the cost of the project."

"Thank you. That's very generous."

"Don't thank us for anything. Not yet." Helen paused, took a breath. "And so, to work. When would you want to do the shoot?"

"As soon as possible."

"Before you change your mind, huh? I understand that. It would also be an excellent idea to get it done before lunch. Gale, what sets do we have open?"

"All of them; Clinic, dungeon, back alley, boudoir, schoolroom. I suggest we use the clinic."

"What about the domina?"

Gale raised her hand. "Dibs on that. I want to do this shoot myself." She was examining Lisa as if she were something under a microscope.

"How about a leading man?"

"Bud finished a shoot about an hour ago," Jimmy said from his perch on the desk. "I saw him in the break room at around 9:30, talking shop with Jack the Whipper."

"Think he'd be - well, up for it?"

"He's always up for it. The man's a fucking machine."

"Good old Bud. Gale, would you mind calling him? He may have left the building already, but he can't have gone far." Gale got up and walked toward the window, fingering her cellphone. "Now, Lisa, about this costume - Chinese Schoolgirl? I hope you brought one with you, 'cos we sure as hell don't have one here."

Lisa nodded at the small suitcase at her feet. "I have it."

"Good," Helen said. "Jimmy, I assume you'll shoot the video for us?"

"Sure. Wouldn't miss it."

"How about sound?"

"Alan should be in his office. He said he had some editing to do."

Helen stood. "Good. Let's move over to the conference table. Would anybody else like some more coffee?"

2. OraL

In which Heroine gets her first taste of the coming ordeal.

Midnite Productions occupied the top floor of a nondescript glass office block just off the 605 freeway in Los Alamitos. One side of the floor was walled off for offices; the rest was a large, dimly lit loft with camera gear, lights, mike booms, sound consoles and assorted production paraphernalia in the center and the various three-walled sets around the sides. Panels of anechoic baffling on rollers provided acoustical separation.

Helen, Jimmy and Alan the sound man stood in the "clinic" set. It combined features of a 1950's operating room and Dr. Frankenstein's laboratory. It was clearly a place where bad things happened.

The center of the room was occupied by a padded table. It could have been an operating table, but it was too large. It could have been used for pelvic exams, but the fixtures supporting the stirrups were padded, had leather straps and too many hinges; they were designed to lock the patient's legs into unusual positions. There were similar fixtures for supporting and restraining the patient's arms. Belts hanging from the sides of the table were positioned to strap the patient down at the thighs, waist, chest and neck. On the floor next to the table was an old-style anesthesia machine with green cylinders, large glass vaporizer bottles with chrome fittings, and a corrugated hose connected to a large, claustrophobic, black rubber mask. A large circular light fixture, with multiple spotlights surrounding a central handle, hung over the table on a pantographic arm. Glass cabinets containing assorted bottles and pieces of medical equipment, mainly specula, stood along the walls, along with a few circular stools on rollers.

"What I'll do," Alan was saying, "is use the three mikes we already have hanging over the set, and position two directional mikes pointing at the head of the table and the end, where the action is. I'll sit over there" - he pointed at a table with a small sound board - "and mix on the go; just picking the mike, or mikes, that are giving me the clearest sound. You won't even know I'm here."

"Sounds good," Jimmy said. "I'll put three cams on tripods. I'll focus two in closeup on Lisa's face and ass. A third one will take in the whole set. And I'll be moving around the set with a Steadicam."

"You understand, we won't be doing any editing," Helen said. "When we're done on set today, we're done."

"No problem," Jimmy said. "I'll just put the four shots into separate MP4 files."

"And I'll just dub the sound over all the shots," Alan added.

"OK, I guess we're set," Helen said. "And just in time. Here come the star."

Lisa and Doro appeared out of the shadows, walking from the direction of the dressing room. Except for her adult poise, Lisa was the model of a Hong Kong schoolgirl; blue blouse with a black four-in-hand tie, a black patent leather belt, knee-length pleated skirt, white knee-length stockings and black Mary Janes. Her elegant hairstyle had been combed out and pulled back into two short ponytails.

"It's not too late, Lisa," Helen said. "Take a good look at this set. You're going to be strapped belly-down on that table, with that big light shining on your bare ass, and then sodomized, and then caned. That's after you've had a really big cock shoved down your throat. Think about that for a second."

Lisa looked at the table. "I've been thinking about it for a long time. I'll do it. I have to do it."

"I'll make you a special offer. Quit now, I'll charge the ten thousand you gave us for the meeting, and you can walk out, honor satisfied. You can think of it as a duel; you didn't shoot, you didn't get shot, but you had the guts to show up and pace off the ten paces. Does that make sense?"

"Yes. But no."

Helen sighed. "Very well. I'll be the mistress of ceremonies. I'll be on set, giving orders, and you'll follow them. Before we start, though, I have a suggestion about your costume."

Lisa looked at her attentively.

"If you get - well, stuff - on it, both the feeling and the odor may be unpleasant. If you're nude, then we can just towel you off and carry on. Does that make sense?"

"Yes. But I want the schoolgirl uniform on the tape somewhere."

"Fine, so when we start shooting, you'll have it on, but then we'll take it off. Do you want to keep it?"

"No. I was planning on leaving it here, in a trash can."

"Excellent. We'll find a creative way to remove it. Now here comes the rest of the cast."

Gale and Bud walked out of the shadows onto the set. Gale had stripped down to a skimpy black G-string that snugly cupped her shaved mons pubis, barely covering the apex of her vulva, and knee-high black boots with pointed steel toes. Every square inch of skin below her neck was covered with tattoos that rippled as she walked. Under the tattoos was a gym rat's body; small firm breasts with thick silver studs through the nipples, a flat belly with hard abs, another silver stud through her navel, a high tight buttocks and shapely, muscular legs. She had applied a thin coating of baby oil and glistened under the lights.

"Gee, Gale," Jimmy said, "You didn't have to get all dressed up just for us."

"Fuck you, Jimbo, you know this is my working uniform. I wouldn't feel right in anything else. A girl's gotta maintain her standards."

The male lead towered over her, a massive man wearing a white bathrobe and a black leather hood. The hood, cinched to a snug fit by an array of buckled straps, covered everything above his shoulders except for two blue eyes that gazed out through almond-shaped holes. A larger hole in the leather, over his mouth and nose, was covered with a panel of black Spandex thick enough to conceal those features, yet thin enough to permit breathing and speaking. "Good morning, everyone," he said, his voice a pleasant baritone only slightly muffled by the cloth.

"Good morning, Bud," Helen called from the set. "Come over and meet your leading lady."

Bud walked over. Lisa, standing, came up to the middle of his chest. She held out her hand as if they were being introduced at a business luncheon. "Lisa Li, please call me Lisa. Pleased to meet you."

He found her formality amusing and played into it by lifting her hand with his and pretending to kiss it. "Bud Anonymous, at your service, Ma'am. I understand we'll be seeing a lot more of each other in the near future."

Lisa smiled gaily. "Indeed. But not, apparently, your face."

"Indeed not, Ma'am. Bud does not show his face anywhere within one hundred feet of a camera."

"And that's because - what? You're a moonlighting police officer? A politician?"

He chuckled, a deep rumble. "Not a politician. Although proud of my professionalism, I would find it quite impossible to fuck millions of people."

Helen butted in. "You two seem to like each other. That's nice. So, let's get to work. Bud, may I take your robe?"

Bud was two hundred thirty pounds of solid muscle, ripped to less than five percent body fat. Every muscle group was clearly visible. Below the neck, he was completely nude; no tan lines, no tattoos, no hair. He looked like a Michelangelo statue carved of white Carraran marble. Unlike a Michelangelo statue, he had a massive tumescent cock that swayed gently to and fro whenever he moved. Lisa stared, slack jawed.