Sacrifice of Suffering

` "OK, so since it's important for me to relax as much as I can --"

"Very true," Bud butted in --

"I think we'll begin with the standing missionary position. I'll lie on my back with my butt at the end of the table, Bud will stand there, we'll adjust the height, I'll put my legs up on his chest, he'll hold my legs by the ankles, and do the deed." As she spoke, Lisa was removing her robe and dropping it on the floor atop Bud's. "Give me a boost, big guy."

It was clear that Lisa was up for it. Her small brown nipples were standing out like pencil erasers, and the others could see a drop of clear moisture standing at the base of her vagina. She was in position on her back when Bud said, "Would you trust me to do something?"

"For God's sake," Lisa expostulated, "do what, that requires permission? You've already had your cock down to my stomach, and now you're about to shove it up to my liver."

"Just this," Bud said, holding up the bottle of lube. He squirted a dollop onto a finger and smeared it on the nozzle. "Relax for a second," he said to Lisa, then hooked his massive left arm under both her knees and drew her thighs up and over her breasts, lifting her tailbone off the table.

"Ooof!"

"Just relax." Her anal sphincter, a reddish-brown flower, was in the middle of the brilliant light. Jimmy moved in for a better shot, grunting with satisfaction. Bud squirted another dollop of lube onto her ass, spread it around with a fingertip, then added another shot and massaged it into her slowly opening hole. Lisa shivered and giggled. "That tickles."

"It gets better." Bud slipped the tip of the squeeze bottle into her ass, then slowly pushed it in as far as it would go. "Hey," Lisa squealed, "I'm paying for your cock, not for a ketchup dispenser!"

"Patience, Ma'am." Bud squeezed the bottle, dispensing a third of its contents deep into Lisa's colon. He pulled the bottle out, and a few drops of lube followed it onto the table and floor. "That should get us started," he said. "Fucking ass is like deep-frying donuts. Better too much grease than too little."

"So much wisdom. I hope somebody's taking notes."

"Getting it all on tape," Jim said helpfully.

Bud squeezed two tablespoons of lube into the palm of his left hand and applied it to his cock with long, firm stokes. "Feels nice already."

"For God's sake, Bud..."

"OK, here we go."

He stepped into position and raised Lisa's legs to his chest, her ankles just below his armpits. He put the tip of his rock-hard cock against her ass, waited for Jim to find the shot, then slowly began pushing it in.

On the screen, Jim could see Bud's glans, the size and color of a red plum, slowly disappearing into Lisa's brown puckered orifice. The muscles of her inner thighs and perineum fluttered. Suddenly the red rim disappeared behind the first ring muscle, which snapped into the groove behind the glans. On the table, Lisa twitched and yipped. A drop of lube escaped from her ass.

Bud continued pushing, a fraction of an inch at a time. More lube ran down Lisa's body and dripped from her tailbone. She shuddered and gibbered; "Oooh! Wow! Damn! Oooh! Stop for a second! How far is that?"

Bud glanced down. "About three inches. A third of the way in."

"Oh God oh God oh God. Just work it around a little bit. Back and forth, up and down. That's nice. That's really nice."

"I was afraid it would hurt."

"It hurts a lot, but it hurts really nice," Lisa gasped. "Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, it does," Bud said. Jim adjusted the lamp and found another camera angle. He flashed a raised-eyebrow glance at Alan the sound man, who gave him a thumbs-up.

"OK, so give me another inch. Oh God. Oh my mother. Oh Mama. Oh Mama."

"That's half his cock," Helen said. "The clock is running." On the table Lisa covered her face with both hands, elbows clinched against her sides, her nipples long and hard. She groaned as Bud moved his butt in little circles, sliding his cock deeper a fraction of an inch at a time.

"Stop!" Lisa called. "We need a different position. A la négresse. Lower the table a bit, I'm turning over."

Lisa knelt, face down on the table, butt high in the air. Bud paused to smear another generous load of lube on his cock, then mounted her, none too gently. Lisa grasped the sides of the table with white-knuckled grips and beat her forehead against the black Naugahyde. "Just do it just do it! Give me all of it! All of it!" Bud grasped her waist and pushed. "AAHHHH! Ohmigawd, I'm fucked in the ass! I'm fucked in the ass! I have a huge cock up my ass, and it's so nasty! It's so nasty and it hurts, and I love it! I love it! Kànzhe wǒ bàba, wǒ wèi nǐ zuò zhège! Wǒ zhèyàng zuò, bàba!

Gayle, standing just off-set, turned to Doro. "What the fuck?"

"Don't know, but wherever this trip is supposed to be taking her, I think she's almost there."

Bud was holding Lisa tightly by the waist, bumping his pubic bone against her coccyx with short hard strokes. She gasped and cried, pounding the cushions with her fists while her white-stockinged legs and schoolgirl shoes fluttered in the air between Bud's thighs. "Wǒ zhèyàng zuò, bàba! Wǒ zhèyàng zuò! Abruptly she screamed out, "STOP! Time?"

"Four minutes, twenty second" Helen reported. "Three minutes, forty seconds to go."

"That's it," Doro said to Gale. "She's going to call safe, and we can all go to lunch."

"'Bout fuckin' time," the domina replied. "I'm starved."

"Changing positions!" Lisa shouted; a drill sergeant's command delivered in a high, firm soprano. "Reverse cowgirl! Bud, get down on the floor."

With Bud on his back, Lisa slowly lowered herself onto him, groaning deep in her chest. Jim scrambled with the light and camera. Once settled, she sat bolt upright, taking every millimeter of his cock deep into her. Interpreting the expression on her tear-streaked face would have occupied an entire team of psychoanalysts for a month; a compelling mixture of martyrdom, agony, satisfaction, and deep, sick lust. She raised her face to the ceiling, eyes closed, reached up and pinched her nipples hard.

"Bud." It was a whisper.

"Ma'am?"

"Give me a reach-around."

"My pleasure, Ma'am."

Bud slid his hands around her waist and down to her belly, found her vaginal cleft, and squeezed her clitoral hood between the tips of his index fingers. He slowly rolled the center of her womanhood up and down, up and down. "Is that good?"

"Harder. Faster." He complied, as Lisa began to bounce up and down on his cock, short quick strokes. "Faster, Bud. Harder."

Lisa slowly increased the length of her strokes, pausing every now and then to adjust her position; a bit further forward on Bud's body, a bit further back. After a few minutes she was frantically bouncing up and down, taking six inches of cock with each stroke. She continued to pinch her nipples, now bruised, and rolling them between her thumbs and fingers while Bud worked her clit.

Gale was watching from the shadows. She found the scene enormously arousing and slipped a finger under her cache-sexe to push her own button. A large equipment case the height of her waist concealed her move from the people on the set, but Gale glanced around to be sure she was unobserved. To her dismay, she saw Alan looking at her over his sound board. He smiled and waved with his left hand. The position of his right arm made it clear what he was doing with his other hand, below the board. Gale smiled and waved back. What the hell - they were making a porn video. Who gave a fuck about a bit of self-gratification, back in the shadows?

"Time?" Lisa cried out.

"Seven minutes twenty-five seconds," Helen reported.

"This is it, Bud!" Lisa gasped. "Harder on that clit. Faster. FASTER! AAAAHHH! Wǒ zhèyàng zuò, bàbAAA !! AIEEEE!!" She shuddered in a grand mal seizure and collapsed across Bud's legs.

"Eight minutes," Helen intoned. "Doro, give me a hand. I think our girl's fainted." The two of them rolled Lisa off of Bud onto the floor. "Help us, Bud, help us get her up onto the table." Jimmy continued to record.

Once Lisa was on the table, Doro blotted her sweaty forehead with a towel. "Lisa, can you hear me? Lisa, are you OK?" To Helen: "Christ, I hope we don't have to call EMSA."

Lisa slowly opened her eyes and smiled a lazy, self-satisfied smile. "Don't call EMSA," she whispered, "I've never felt better. Call Pizza Hut. I'm buying."

"Are you calling safe?" Helen demanded.

"Absolutely not. I'm calling for lunch."

4. First Intermission

In which Our Heroine learns more about the people s

he's hired, and vice versa.

The pizza, brought up from the lobby by a security guard, was delivered within the twenty minutes it took the cast and crew to clean up and move from the set to the conference room next to Helen's office. Helen, out of long habit, sat at the end of the long table, Jimmy and Alan on one side, Doro and Gale and Bud on the other. Lisa, working on her third slice of double pepperoni, perched on one corner, left thigh on the table, right foot on the floor, butt hanging in space. Nobody commented on the posture.

Lisa had put on a white cotton bathrobe that came to mid-calf; Gale a kimono of flimsy black nylon that barely covered her butt. The heavy silver studs at her nipples and belly button were clearly visible beneath the thin fabric. Bud, being safely away from the cameras, had lost his hood and donned street clothes; a yellow polo shirt, khaki chinos, and oxblood loafers without socks. He was a conventionally handsome man in his early '40s; his thick seal-brown hair, flattened by the hood, had hints of gray at the temples.

The three family-sized pizzas were rapidly disappearing; Jimmy had produced bottles of Coors from a refrigerator in his office. Only Bud hadn't touched it; he was washing down his sixth hardboiled egg with Perrier. "I'm on a strict ketogenic diet," he'd explained. "Only way to keep my figure."

The food had stopped conversation, but after a time Helen spoke up. "How did you find us, Lisa?" she asked.

"Well, I started by watching lots of porn, I found some material that I liked, and then found out who'd made it."

"But all our material is released under pseudonyms; Satyr, Spread Eagle, Cobra, Kingsnake, and so on. And how did you find us here, in Los Alamitos? We don't exactly have a sign out on the access road."

Not only was there no sign in front of the building, but there was also no name on the building directory. When Lisa had asked the guard in the lobby about Midnite, he'd simply said, "Take elevator five; that goes directly to the sixth floor. If you're expected, they'll let you in. Otherwise, I'll be seeing you again in a couple of minutes."

"I found you the old-fashioned way," Lisa answered. "After messing around for several months, wasting my time, I hired a private investigator. I have no idea whom he talked to."

"That makes me feel better," Helen said. "When your first letter showed up in our mailbox downstairs, we didn't know what to think. I mean, the only snail mail we ever get are utilities bills. I'm just glad we weren't too easy to find. The world is full of crusading do-gooders these days."

"I understand. So tell me, Bud," Lisa continued conversationally, "how does a man come by such a huge cock? Was your father a dairy bull?"

Bud laughed. "No, he was a pediatrician. Still is. But I was a precocious kid; I started masturbating when I was eight, although of course nothing came of it except a good feeling. I had read my mom's old college physiology books and knew about sex long before puberty." The others stopped chewing and listened, interested.

"I learned that my cock would start growing when I was between ten and fourteen, so I decided that would be the time to encourage it. I installed a little pully under my desk and rigged a length of clothesline. On one end I hung a handful of lead fishing weights, on the other end I tied a slipknot that I put around my cock just behind the head. I would sit for hours doing my math and English homework, trying to ignore my painfully stretched little weenie. When my dickhead went numb, I'd take the slipknot off for a few minutes, and then I'd start again. I was relentless."

"Damn," Doro said. "What did your folks think about that?"

"I'm not sure they knew. I hid the line and the weights when I wasn't using them. I don't know what they thought about the pully, or if they ever noticed it."

"Didn't they ever walk into your room during a - well, a session?"

"No. I trained them not to. I told them I had to have absolute peace and quiet when I was doing my homework. Since I was a straight-A student, they didn't argue. Mom would just tap at my door - 'Dinner, Bradley' - and wait for me to come out."

"Bradley, huh?" Jim said with a grin. "Bradley?"

"Don't even think it. Around here, I'm Bud."

"Didn't the other boys in the locker room notice that you were - well, big for your age?"

"In our school, you didn't have to take PE if you played in the band. I played trombone. Rather well, too. Anyway, stretching it like that encouraged it to grow long."

"Just it?" Gale asked. "Don't you have a pet name for that monster?"

"No. We've always had an adversarial relationship. Anyway, I worked on the girth by beating off while wearing tight cock rings, which hurt like a bitch, but it also stretched it and made it thicker. I also learned how to not to ejaculate; I'd masturbate right to the point of orgasm several times per night, but only permitted myself to come once or twice a week. By the time I was sixteen, I had the critter you see here."

"You must have been wildly popular with the girls," Helen said.

"I was wildly popular with their mothers. When I was in high school, I had a summer job cleaning pools. I'd started working out with weights when I was sixteen, so I had a really good body which I showed off in a Speedo."

"A Speedo with a big bulge in it," Gale conjectured.

"Right. Also a nice tan under a layer of suntan oil." He paused, smiling at the memory. "Funny, when I think about it now -- my parents never asked themselves how a high school kid could earn five hundred bucks a week cleaning pools."

"I can guess," Gale said.

"I wasn't a rent boy," Bud said. "I never asked for a penny. I told all the ladies I thought they were irresistible, the most beautiful things I'd ever seen, soooo much sexier than their little-kid daughters.

"I'd go to some big house in the afternoon, greet the nice society lady and fuck her senseless, go clean the pool, fuck her senseless again, take a quick swim, then fuck her senseless one more time for good measure. I never came, of course. Always saving my load for next time. Miraculously, I always found a couple hundred dollars in my bag after I left. Plus presents. 'Here's something for your birthday, Brad.' 'Thank you, Mrs. Smith, but my birthday isn't for six months.' 'Well, then, here's something for your un-birthday.'"

"Ever get caught?"

"Never even came close. I had a small clientele, and it was clear to me that I was their big secret. They'd pass me around. 'Go see Alice Jones tomorrow, Brad. Mr. Jones is in Europe; it would be the perfect time to give their pool a really deep cleaning.' I could write a book."

"If you do, I want a copy," Lisa said. "And if you don't mind my asking, did you come when you were doing me this morning? When you were up my ass?"

"No. You were great, but - well, holding it is a habit. Also, I'm just not as sensitive as I used to be. It takes a lot to get me off."

"I hope we're not supposed to feel sorry for you," Jimmy cracked.

"Not at all. I have all the sex I can stand."

"Is this your only - well, line of work?" Lisa asked.

"No, it's not," Helen interjected, "and that topic is off limits."

"Thanks, Helen," Bud said. There was a conversational lull as they all resumed their attack on the pizza.

"So, Lisa," Doro asked between bites, "you surprised me this morning. After all the trouble you had with the oral, you seemed to do a lot better with the anal. It was still tough, of course -"

"It was," Lisa said.

"— but still, it was something you seemed to enjoy."

"I did, at the end. But as everyone could see, it was tough getting there. Bud is just a lot more than I'd worked with before."

"But still, it wasn't a really new experience."

"No. I've been playing around with toys for years."

"But not with men?"

"No. Only with women, and only with toys. Sometimes stand-alone, sometimes strap-on. There's a group I belong to up in San Francisco. We call ourselves the Peg Board." Muffled laughter around the table.

"So you're a lesbian," Jim said.

Lisa rolled her eyes. "One would think."

"So if you're lesbian, then what happened this morning, for Christ's sake?" Gale expostulated. "What's this all about, anyway?"

Lisa gave her a cold look, held it for a beat, then responded quietly, "I'm not talking about that. Not yet. Maybe later. But since we're in show-and-tell mode here, what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Well, how did Gale get to be Gale? You've got to admit, you're a pretty remarkable woman."

"Remarkable?"

"One could find another word, but I'll stick with 'remarkable.' When did you decide you were going to be a professional sadist? Specializing in women, I would guess?"

If Lisa had expected Gale to be offended, she was mistaken. The domina visibly relaxed, happy to talk about herself.

"Well, I knew from the time I was a little girl that I was butch. I didn't want to be Lois Lane, I wanted to be Superman. I wanted to kick the shit out of the bad guys and carry the swooning heroine away in my arms." She chuckled. "It took me awhile to figure out what I was going to do with her once I'd carried her away. I was always a tomboy, and I played rough. My favorite game was pickup football in an empty lot. I'd tell the boys, 'You can't tackle me, I'm a girl!' Then I'd send them home with bloody noses. Good times.

"I had several girlfriends in high school, and we did all the usual lesbo experimenting. My sex took a big turn after I left home. I had a roomie, a plump, sweet little bottom that enjoyed being ordered around. One day we had a silly quarrel over some little thing, and she said, 'Don't you ever want to give me a good spanking?'

"I told her I sure as hell did, grabbed her, dragged her over to a kitchen chair, and bent her over my knee. After a couple of smacks, she said, 'Wait a sec,' got up, took off her jeans and panties, and lay back down across my lap, her round, little white ass in the air. I spanked her until she was bright red and sobbing, and I loved every second of it. I think we were both astonished at how much it turned us on.

"After that, I joined a group. I started learning how to use whips, canes, paddles, needles, cattle prods, what have you. I was surprised to learn that people would pay good money for pain, especially when administered by a scary woman. And so I was on my way.

"I met a gal who was directing BDSM porn, did some shoots for her. She introduced me to Helen. I still have a private practice, so to speak, but now I spend most of my time here."

"So you're a sadist," Lisa said. "Also a masochist?"

"Sweetheart, anybody who tries to lay a cane on me is going to get it shoved up his ass, sideways. But let's get back to you. You've done both oral and anal before, in some way. You do remember what's on the program this afternoon? The program you gave us?"

"I remember."

"And it's something you don't have any experience with."

"None."

"Understand, I'm not going to go easy on you. I'm a professional, you hired me to do a job, and I'm going to do it. Are we really clear about that?"