The Devil's Bull

"It's a pain club," explained JoAnne. "Membership is by invitation only. There's sex and there's bondage at the club, but mostly there's pain."

David let the topic drop for the moment, planning to pursue it further later. The following Friday afternoon, JoAnne again mentioned the club and went on to describe a pain session she had experienced there the previous night in which she had agreed to be used by "The Whipmaster."

"He is so divine," she said dreamily. "Or maybe I should say Devilish. He likes to string two of us up on spreader bars with our hands and ankles spread wide and then pull us up off the floor so we are suspended facing each other while our ankle spreader bars are firmly anchored to the floor at both ends. That way we can shake and vibrate all we want, but we can't kick our legs or flail our arms and we are always lined up properly for his whips."

She took a deep breath. It was as close as David had seen to sexual stimulation from her. "Then he stands there with a whip in each hand and sees which of us he can get to scream the loudest. He's good - very good, and can hit from top to toes. He can even swing the whips between us and snap nipples or pussy. The pain is unbelievable when he pops you exactly on a nipple or... ... your clit. He keeps going until one of us yells out our safeword."

She paused before looking up directly into David's eyes and saying, "I never have."

"Would you like to see what he did to my body last night?" she asked, and then stood up and began unbuttoning her blouse. David pressed a button on his desk and the receptionist hurried into the room.

"I need a woman present," he said softly. Diane was a highly qualified medical receptionist and was not, nor never would be, one of David's pain or sex toys. She was the one who would testify, if needed, as to how professional David had been with all of his patients and how he observed every rule of proper procedure, including summoning her into his office whenever a patient attempted anything that could be interpreted as a sexual advance.

She gasped as she came through the door. She could see JoAnne's back... and legs... and breasts. Actually, she could see all of JoAnne since she was bent over sliding her slacks to the ground as Diane was entering the room.

"They still throb," said JoAnne, arching her back so that she was thrusting her criss-crossed ass toward David. "You can touch them if you want. It might give me my daily fix. Then I won't have to go out and get somebody to beat me tonight."

"Diane, please stand next to me," David instructed, "I want a witness to the fact that I am touching these welts solely to observe the patient's reaction to my touch."

David, in a very professional manner, reached out his hand and lightly brushed a deep purple welt that ran along the joining point between JoAnne's back and the upper portion of her ass cheeks. Speaking to the recorders, he said, "Let the patient records note that the patient reacted in pain, not pleasure at the touch. There was no indication of sexual arousal in the face, nipples or genital area."

The same could not be said for David. He made sure to turn away from Diane before she could see the ridge beginning to form in the front of his pants. Seating himself behind his desk, he said, "Diane, please help JoAnne re-dress herself. I think that we will end this session early. It would also be a good idea to have Debra come up here and switch disks early so that I am sure that this goes into the records properly. Would you please call her and tell her that I have two files that I need to review with her immediately, please?"

Diane waited for JoAnne to finish dressing and then accompanied her out into the waiting room. A few minutes later, Debra entered the office. "Naked, on the desk," was all that David said. He "reviewed both files" very forcefully with her before letting her up from the desk and sending her back to the records area.

After she was gone, and David had insured that everything was cleaned up, he used an air freshener spray to hide the smell of sex and summoned Diane back into his office. "What does my schedule look like for the coming week?" he asked. "We need to leave plenty of space for emergency and special sessions."

Diane looked puzzled. David tapped the calendar on his desk, "Halloween," he said. "I can show you fifty different studies that say that moon and weather changes and holidays like Halloween have no affect on mental illness. But they think it does - tapping his appointment book - and that is all that matters."

"I know Thursday is Halloween," answered Diane. "But the electronic scheduling program is set to automatically keep space open a week before and a week after Halloween. Your schedule is pretty clear right now." She paused and then added, "Except I've already used one of those slots for JoAnne. She said she absolutely has to see you Monday. She seemed truly terrified of something, so I gave her the nine am slot. Is that OK?"

"That's fine," answered David, "but check with me before filling any more slots. We may have to prioritize appointments."

= = = = =

JoAnne was David's first appointment for the week. She was already in the waiting room when he arrived at 8:30 on Monday morning. Diane said, "She was here when we opened the doors at 8:00."

He stuck his head into the waiting room and said, "Your appointment isn't until 9:00." When she started to tear up, he added, "But I will see you early. Why don't you come into the office with me."

They had barely gotten through the door to his office when she broke down and began crying almost hysterically. "You have to lock me up somewhere for a couple of days. I know you can do it. You can commit me to a locked ward for a 72 hour evaluation on Wednesday morning. I'll be safe there."

"Now, now," he replied in his best I'm-showing-that-I-care-about-you voice. "Tell me more about this so I can understand what is happening."

"Thursday is Halloween," she answered.

"And...."

"Halloween is a special night at the club."

"And...."

"Visitors are welcome. New people are invited."

" And..."

"And.. and... and..." She began and then dissolved again into tears.

"Take you time," he assured her. "We started early. You have plenty of time. What else happens on Halloween?"

She raised her head and looked directly into his eyes. "It's a 'no limits night' at the club. If you go up on stage on Halloween night, you are there until you break. And that doesn't mean yell-a-safeword break, because safewords aren't honored on a no limits night. On Halloween, you go until you are totally broken, and that means submit-to-slavery broken. Whatever is happening keeps happening until you are totally broken and are willing to do anything to anybody or for anybody just to have it stop. If I go up onto that stage Thursday night, I will come off that stage a slave."

"The solution sounds simple," observed David, "just don't go up on stage."

"But I need it," she whined. "I need it so badly."

She looked back up into his eyes. "Even knowing how things will turn out, I can't help myself. I will go to the club and I will go up on that stage," she dissolved again into choked sobs, "... and I will be broken."

"JoAnne," David began, "just about any other time of the year, I could get you in for a 72 hour evaluation with no problems, but this is Halloween. The wards will be packed. In the meantime, I will look into some things and see what I can do. Let's book you back for Wednesday morning, first appointment. OK?"

JoAnne nodded her head, wiped away her tears and said, "Thank you. I knew you would understand."

Doctor Doctor understood. He understood very clearly that somehow he was taking her to that club and he, not The Whipmaster, was going to break her down completely and capture her as his slave forever.

"JoAnne?" he said before she could reach the door, "Do you think it would be possible for you to give me contact information for the Devil's Doorstep? I think it would be a good idea if I could talk to the owner or manager and work something out."

"Of course, Doctor," she replied as she took her smart phone from her purse. I will text them and ask them to contact you. What number should I give them?"

David gave her his auto-forward number. It came up on his cellphone as an incoming call, but the caller did not know his true number. There were a lot of reasons for using a forwarding number like that, primary of which was that his location could not be easily pinged or traced by any law enforcement authorities.

A few moments later the "bing" of an incoming text chimed in the room. It said, "Painslut Joey called. What do you want?"

He smiled and typed his reply. "I want to come to the club as a guest Thursday evening. I will bring Painslut Joey so that she can be on stage, but I want to be the one who whips her into submission."

The response was a single word "Done." Then his GPS program self started and an address and map point appeared on the screen giving the location of the club. He knew the area well, but had never seen anything that looked like a club in that seedy, rundown area of town.

The Wednesday session with JoAnne was uneventful, but shortly after that session extreme indigestion hit him and forced him to cancel the rest of his appointments for the day. Doctor Doctor made a lousy patient. In fact, he hated medical doctors and would not go to one unless there was absolutely no other option. Besides, it was just indigestion. He must have eaten something too spicy or had one too many drinks last night. He would go home and sleep it off.

Before he left the office, he texted JoAnne. "I will be with you tomorrow night. Please meet me in front of my office building at nine o'clock tomorrow night and I will take you someplace where nothing can happen to you unless I allow it. Does that work for you?"

Her reply was "Done."

"They must use that a lot in her circle of friends," he thought to himself as he closed the connection. Immediately after putting his phone back into his pocket, he began sweating and feeling very ill.

= = = = = = =

The shower improved things. By the time he had dried himself, David was feeling much better and looking forward to the evening with great pleasure and anticipation. As he dressed, he could envision JoAnne strung up on stage, naked and sweating, her body striped with welts and cuts, screaming to be allowed to submit to him as his eternal slave. He savored that image as he splashed some cologne on his face and checked his hair in the mirror. Then it was time to go.

Doctor David Ryan Richardson, Doctor Doctor, pulled up in front of his office building at exactly 9:00 pm on Halloween night. He was hoping that JoAnne was on time or at least not too late. He didn't like waiting.

He need not have worried. JoAnne stepped from the shadow of a tree in front of the building as he pulled up to the curb.

"Where are we going?" she asked as she entered the car.

"You need to trust me," answered David. "We are going to The Devil's Doorstep."

"NO!" screamed JoAnne, her face suddenly full of fear. She started to get out of the car, but the door wouldn't unlock from her side. That was one of the many modifications David had paid to have done to his Mercedes right after he purchased it. Other modifications included removing the inside release from the trunk and modifying the seatbelts - other than the drivers - so that they could be electronically locked using a button on the dash. JoAnne's door wouldn't unlock and she couldn't undo her seat belt.

"Don't panic. Don't panic," he said in his calm, sooth-the-patient voice. This is best. It is really no different than me taking someone who is afraid of heights up to the observation deck at the top of a tall building. In order to conquer your fears, you need to face your fears - but in a safe way. Remember, I will be with you."

He took her hand with his right hand and with his left turned her head so that they were eye to eye. "You will be in my hands," he assured her. "Nothing will happen to you unless I make it happen to you."

Had JoAnne known the true import of those words, her fear would have turned to terror, but instead she calmed down and asked, "Will you protect me?"

"Do you think I would harm you?"

She relaxed and answered, "OK, but don't leave me alone - even for a second - while we are in the club."

"Don't worry," he reassured her, "I will be right there beside you." He then silently added to himself, "swinging the whip."

David was surprised when they arrived at the club. He was somewhat familiar with this neighborhood and had never seen any indication of a club in the area, but then he noticed the wide alleyway that hadn't been there before. There should have been a building there. He remembered it clearly. He had always assumed that it was a party room for the diner next door since it had advertizing for them in the blacked out windows, but now the entire building face was folded back like a huge door to reveal a wide alley and the marqueed entrance to a club that was apparently located behind the front buildings. The letters on the marquee, which were red and were intended to look as if they were dripping blood, spelled out "The Devil's Doorstep."

"Well I'll be damned," he said as they got out of the car.

JoAnne smiled at him and said in a strangely flat voice, "Aren't we all?"

David paused for a moment trying to connect what she had just said, but then extended his arm and said, "Ready?"

In answer, JoAnne took his offered arm and began walking down the alleyway with him toward the club entrance.

The Devil's Doorstep was everything that you would expect an "underground" BDSM club to be. It was slightly dark, slightly unkept, and smelled more than slightly of old cigarettes and stale alcohol. When he gave his name to the hostess, she said, "Of course Doctor Richardson. We have a front row table waiting for you. Please follow me." She then led them up to a table right next to the stage area.

Shortly after they sat down a lean, middle-aged man with dark wavy hair that was combed straight back from his forehead came over to the table and said, "Welcome to my club. I am The Owner. Tonight you are a visitor. Perhaps you will join and come on other nights as well."

From his accent, it was apparent that English was not his first language, but David could not place exactly where the accent was from. It sounded somewhat European, but had overtones of the Mideast or even the Orient. The Owner's facial features were also not specific to any one racial or ethnic group. It was almost as if he were a blend of all the world's racial and ethnic groups.

The Owner then bent down close to David's ear and said softly, "Her's will be the last scene and will begin at exactly Midnight. We close at two a.m. so it can be as long as you want. If it plays out well, I might even stretch my license and stay open until three or four in the morning."

David took in a deep breath as he savored the image of JoAnne screaming beneath the whip for three or four continuous hours. The Owner stood back up and said loudly, "Order anything you would like. The first round of drinks are on the house for special guests like you." He smiled and walked off to speak with other tables.

"What did he say to you?" asked JoAnne. Fear had returned slightly to her voice.

"He was just telling me that there was a discount on a lifetime membership."

JoAnne laughed softly and answered, "I'll bet they have even better deals than that."

Again David couldn't quite connect what JoAnne had said, but he had long ago learned to filter out any comments from his patients that didn't make sense. He dismissed further thought about it from his mind as the house lights began to dim and the lights on the stage area brightened.

The Owner stepped out into the lights. "Ladies and gentlemen, our first scene tonight will help resolve a domestic dispute that has arisen from two switches falling in love for each other." He laughed and shrugged in a Mediterranean sort of way. "Sometimes balance in a relationship is not all it is made out to be. In this case, neither is strong enough to overwhelm and conquer the other, but at the same time, neither is weak enough to submit themselves to someone not significantly stronger than themselves. Perhaps they would have been wiser to choose a different night, but tonight they have come to me, The Owner, to help them resolve their issues."

A man and woman walked out onto the stage area. They were both naked and both had restraint cuffs on their wrists and ankles. Two sets of cables lowered from the ceiling. Each set was attached to opposite ends of a steel pipe. Another pipe was clipped just below the one to which the cables were attached. Stage hands hurried out and detached the second pipe from each rig. The man stood beneath one pipe, the woman stood beneath the second. The stage hands attached their wrists to the pipes and then bent down and attached their ankles to the second pipe which was now laying on the ground. The two sets of cables rose back up into the air until the feet of both people were off the ground. The stage hand then attached short cables from the ends of the lower pipe to attachment points on the stage floor. The cables then continued their upward motion until both the man and the woman were obviously held taut.

"Tonight, one of these star-crossed lovers will submit to the other." announced The Owner. "And The Whipmaster will help them decide who will submit to whom." He paused to let a figure dressed completely in black leather come onto the stage. "Whipmaster, if you please...."

The figure in black snapped two whips rapidly several times in succession toward the audience and then turned so that he was facing the two people hanging spread eagle. He made a quick motion with his arms and wrists. The whip crack echoed through the room, followed a moment later by the screams of both parties. With measured pace, allowing the couple plenty of time to absorb the pain of one strike and anticipate or dread the bite of the next, The Whipmaster repeated that action four more times. Then he went to the other side of the couple and began once again.

"He's switching sides so the whip hand switches from one person to the other." explained JoAnne. "Believe me, he is exactly the same with either hand, but some people have trouble accepting that, so he makes sure that both sides get equal treatment from either hand."

David wasn't keeping count of the blows, but he thinks it was around twenty-five or thirty that the man suddenly screamed out, "I submit. I submit."

The Owner came out on stage and asked him, "Do you submit yourself totally to this woman to be her slave from this time forward and forever?"

"Yes," the man cried. "Yes, I am her slave now and forever."

The Owner turned to The Whipmaster and said simply, "You may resume."

"What!" yelled the man. "I submitted. I gave in."

"Yes, and it looks like you will enjoy being her slave," answered The Owner as he brushed his hand against the man's erect penis. "You want to be a slave, and you seem to like pain... up to a point. But did you not read the whole contract when you signed it? This is a special night. It is Halloween. There are no limits. Every scene goes until the person breaks."

"But I broke," screamed the man.

The Owner laughed what could only be described as a deep and evil laugh and said, "Yes, you have broken, but... ." pointing to the man's wife "... she has not."

Turning once again to The Whipmaster, The Owner issued a terse, single word command, "Continue!"

The Whipmaster's pace was now much faster, and he didn't stop at the end of every five strokes, but instead continued relentlessly. David was now keeping track of the strokes. There were sixty-three additional strokes, each one accompanied by shrill cries of pain, before the woman cried out, "I submit. I submit. I submit!"