CAROLINE

Caroline smoothed down the front of her shiny white nylon uniform jacket. She was tall and slim. I imagined the narrowness of her hips and the flat dipping line of her stomach between their raised points. I thought of stroking the palm of my hand across her silky smooth skin, stretching out my fingers, pressing them down towards her luscious, moist crack. She had a broad mouth and her full delicious lips were precisely painted with bright red lipstick. Her nose was pert and her dark eyes were wide and inviting. Her black hair was cut short - bobbed with a square cut fringe. Her skin was pale and silky - I thought that if I touched it I would have an orgasm. I thought again of stretching my fingertips into the opening of her cunt and I felt a surge of enveloping heat shiver through my body. When she smiled she opened her lips and revealed her large white teeth. They were bright white but not overly level so they did not look in any way unnatural or enhanced. Her top front teeth were the largest but they were by no means buck teeth. Her canine teeth were the most prominent - seemingly artificially sharp. I imagined how she would pull their razor-like edges along the veins of a throbbing cock. I saw that her tongue was pink and juicy. It lapped behind the bottom row of her teeth, glistening with spit and obviously capable of extending far out of her red lipstick-lined mouth. I imagined sucking at it, feeling it wriggle in my mouth as she searched for my own tongue. I thought of it probing to the back of my throat and I wondered if I would gag or whether I would be able to swallow on it and feel it in my gullet. I breathed hard at the idea. I thought of it probing between the fleshy wet lips of my cunt, slipping inside, lapping at the dark interior of my flesh. And I imagined it pressing into the centre of my anus, probing into the darkness there, lifting me in quivers of delight as it slipped in, tasting me, heating me, and driving me to overwhelming and unbearable delight.

Her white nylon jacket had blue edging and five blue buttons were neatly placed down the front. It was buttoned up to the neck and had no lapels. A silver clip pinned the collar together at her throat. On each of her cuffs was a single gold band. Her trousers were loose fitting with a complimentary blue stripe down each of the outside seams. They were drawn tight at the waist by a string the ends of which hung down below the bottom edge of her jacket. The looseness of the nylon material picked up her shape beneath as it touched and clung lightly to her thighs.

She was captivating. I felt the heat surging in my cunt. I struggled against my bonds, but this time to free my hands so that I could dip my fingers into my aching crack. I felt my clitoris throbbing and wanted desperately to pinch it hard and deliver the pain that would rescue me from its pressing needs. But I knew it wouldn’t - whatever pain I could receive would only increase my desires.

She talked casually as she walked around me checking the security and tightness of the straps at my wrists and ankles. It was as though she inhabited a different world - one which did not see my captivity as anything strange or troubling, one which saw it only as part of normality.

My sense of confinement and exposure returned. I shook my head from side to side, anxious to have the dirty rag removed from my aching mouth. A heavy wave of panic welled over me.

‘You were brought here from Montreal,’ she started, speaking in an easy going and matter-of-fact way. ‘They found you naked and soaked on the lower viewing balcony on the Canadian side of the Niagara Falls. It was December. You must have been freezing! It’s amazing you survived! You didn’t know who you were, or where you were, they said, and you were covered with whip marks - everywhere! Especially across your breasts and bottom!’

I tried to call out but it was impossible. I felt my anxiety increasing. I opened my eyes as wide as I could in the hope that my stare would convey my desperation. She yanked hard on the straps around my wrists. I felt a burning sensation on my skin as she pulled them up as tight as she could into the steel buckles.

‘The authorities sent you here, to Pacific Heights.’ She chatted as though she was passing on everyday information in an everyday situation, not talking to someone naked and tied tightly to a hospital couch. ‘A relative signed the papers. They say this place was modelled on a leper colony. They used to put mad people in leper colonies, you know. Just imagine that! All those white bloodless limbs! Yuk! I know a lot about it don’t you think? I studied it in college. I got an “A”. I called my project “My History of those Lepers”. The disease died out - nobody knows why. The leper institutions fell empty so they filled them with mad people. Odd, don’t you think? Physical disease gives way to mental disease; a bit like pain giving way to pleasure. Charenton in France was the most famous. The Marquis de Sade himself was kept there until his death. Sad, don’t you think? Someone like the Marquis, locked away like that? Have you read his books? Now there’s someone who really knew what pain was! I had a boyfriend once. We tried out some of the things. Wow! Pacific Heights used to be owned by Lord somebody. He modelled it on the old methods of treatment: calming, purification, immersion, and confinement. Now it’s run by a new owner - our “Father” we call him; just like the Lord himself! It’s a very special place, and we like to think of all our visitors as special. See, you’re special - a special visitor. Though, it must be said, some of our visitors have not enjoyed their stay here as much as they could. I don’t know why. Too mad, I suppose. Some of them say that we suck their blood. People can be silly don’t you think? Suck their blood! Honestly!’

I fought for breath and struggled in a panic. I could not believe what I was hearing. Why couldn’t I remember any of this? A relative? What relative? Niagara Falls? Whip marks?

‘Now, that’s enough of me. I know I go on a bit sometimes. Let me take this dirty rag from your mouth. Honestly! Who’d do such a thing?’

She quickly checked the security of the bonds around my ankles then leant over me and prised her fingers between the plugging rag and the wide stretched edges of my mouth. I felt the sharpness of her nails against the inside of my cheek - I winced.

‘Just a little pain. Just a little pain for a special visitor.’

Suddenly she pulled the rag free. Air exploded from me, as though the plugging material had been holding it in. I gasped to replace it with a long, deep inhalation. I let it out and gasped again, progressively feeling my heart slowing as my system absorbed the new supply of oxygen. Everything sounded clearer. For a moment I felt as if all my senses had been enhanced.

‘Where are the others?’ I asked, my voice trembling. ‘The doctor and the nurse? Nurse Roslin?’

Caroline shrugged as she began carefully to undo the straps that held my wrists. She had only just tightened them and now she was unfastening them. It was as though time had passed and I had missed its passage.

I felt the straps ease then fall away but, even though they were free, I was unable to move my hands or arms. I just lay there as I had when held by the straps. I was released but not free. My muscles felt useless - paralysed. I wondered if I would ever be able to move again.

‘There was a pair here a while ago - I don’t know their names,’ she continued. ‘Nor if they’re the ones you’re talking about. They were weird - very weird. I met them once, just as it was getting light. They must have started work early. She was tall, quite beautiful. They both died, tied together in some strange ritual, they say. Threw themselves over a cliff. It’s over a year ago now. Suicide pact, that’s what they say, but I don’t believe it. It was never explained how they could have been tied up like they were. How can two people tie themselves together then throw themselves over a cliff? I think they were tortured by someone. And they were cut all over their bodies and covered in teeth marks. Teeth marks! That’s what they told me at the mortuary. We have our own mortuary here, and the attendant is a friend of mine. And she showed me some pictures! Full colour! The woman had these long gouges down from her neck and over her breasts. Yuck! Can you imagine! It turned my stomach just to look at the pictures. I think they were definitely tortured - you couldn’t do that to yourself could you? It’s not possible! Then, after they’d been tortured, I think, someone drove them out to the cliffs and hurled them over. Do you think I’m terrible? Thinking such things? They were from Arizona. Crazy! Oh, I’m going on again. You must stop me.’

She bent forward between my wide stretched legs and grinned broadly.

‘Now, we’re going out for a bit of a tour. All our new visitors go on a tour - it’ll get you familiar with how the land lies, as they say.’

She undid the straps around my ankles. Still I couldn’t move. It was as though I had lost all ability to control my muscles. I couldn’t even bring my legs together. For a second I thought my heart had stopped - I thought I was dead!

‘Now, what’s your name?’ She looked at a brown paper tag tied with string to my right big toe. ‘Ah, “Syra”. That’s a nice name. Well, Syra, you are a strange one, even for this place, and we get some strange one’s here, I can tell you. Come on, let me help you.’

She opened her mouth wide. Her fleshy tongue stretched out. Its tip reached below her chin even though it was not in any way at full stretch. It glistened with a film of spit. She dropped her head and let the soft wet surface of her tongue touch the inside of my ankle. She looked up under her eyes, seeing if I responded, seeing if I needed more.

Still, I couldn’t move.

She stood back, unclipped the silver pin at her throat and slowly undid the five buttons of her jacket. It fell apart at the front - a white lacy bra held her firm breasts. Her nipples were dark pink and hard, pressing hard beneath the filmy material, eager to be exposed. She loosened the draw string of her trousers and let them fall from her hips. She stood with them around her feet for a moment - naked except for her lacy bra - then, like Aphrodite emerging from a shell, she stepped out of them. She was perfect, in every way, perfect. She grinned broadly, her white teeth outlined by the blood-red circle of her full and luscious lips.

She lifted herself up and straddled me on the couch. I wanted to look up - to see her cunt - but I could only stare at her eyes as she dropped her head between my legs. It was as if I was punishing myself by not looking at the glory of her flesh that was now so close above my face. It was as though I was increasing my pain at withholding the sight of this delightful object of my desires. The self-punishment of it was delectable.

Her eyes stayed fixed on mine as she ran her wet tongue first in a circle around my ankle bone then up the inside of my calf. I felt a fresh draft of cold air. I wanted to shiver and felt my body tightening in readiness. My eyes widened but nothing else happened. Still I could not move the rest of my body - even involuntarily. Still I could only stare at her face, now upside down, as she worked her way up my legs.

Her face got closer. Her eyes still stared into mine. I saw the trail of spit her tongue left on my skin as she drew it first up the inside of my knee then slowly along the inside of my thigh.

My mouth was still open- gaping, motionless. My throat tightened. I wanted to swallow. I wanted to scream. I wanted to twist away and run to the door. The cold draft blew across me again.

She slowed just before she reached my cunt. Her teeth glistened. She slurped her tongue around her red lips and down onto her chin - the sight of it was mouth-watering.

Suddenly, I trembled - an involuntary shake. I felt spit running over my bottom lip. Then I swallowed - a huge noisy gulp - and with the noisy swallow I felt my voice again.

Caroline smiled and moved her head closer. I could no longer see her eyes. She laid the flat of her luscious tongue against my exposed naked crack. I inhaled heavily as it came into contact with my own flesh. The surface of her tongue was warm and silky and slid against my wet cunt. I heard my breath entering my lungs and, as I began to let it out, I heard myself moaning - a shaky groan blubbering past my spit filled mouth. As my breath came out, the noise increased. It issued from my constricted throat and with it spit ran forward along the cleft in my tongue and freely over my lips in a stream.

Her tongue probed between the lips of my cunt, opening them, prising them apart, slipping between them, then pushing past and entering the darkness within. I felt my hips rising - a squeezing, tightening and irrepressible show of pleasure. I groaned again, and more spit ran over my chin. I shivered again - another single jerking shake. I felt her tongue so deeply inside. I no longer wanted to run to the door. I felt a wave of embarrassment that I had thought such a thing. Now, I only wanted more. I wanted to close my legs around her head and pulled her tongue in even deeper. Would that be possible, I thought? Could it possibly penetrate me even more? Already it felt like a viper inside me, searching out my darkest crevices, lapping up my moisture, sucking at my innards. Could it possibly go deeper?

Suddenly I moved! My hips lifted. My thighs dropped wide. I breathed in deeply. I reached up and gripped her straddling thighs. I dragged her down onto my spit smeared face. I did not even look at her cunt - I just wanted to drive my tongue into it.

It was like plunging into a balmy sea - I was completely absorbed, immersed in its warmth, overcome by its succulent fleshiness.

Her tongue delved so deeply - it was as though it was filling up my whole body. I opened my mouth and pressed my hungry lips harder against the flesh of her open cunt. I smelled her beautiful aroma - sweet, heady, dizzying. Her flesh was warm and juicy; moisture ran over its surface. I licked inside. I felt my whole face lunging into her. I wiped it against her moisture. I felt her wetness dripping over me like a delectable tropical rain.

I tightened my knees around her head. I dragged her face onto me. I felt her nose pressing against my dilated anus. I pulled her harder against my open cunt. I wanted her completely inside - I wanted to feel her lapping at my innards. I reared up against her and she drove her cunt down more onto my tongue. We licked inside each other. I felt her wetness all over my face. I drank it. I was nourished by it. I drowned in it.

Everything was filled with light - my head was exploding. It was as though I had been set on fire from inside. I felt her body against me - her cunt, her wetness, her delectable aroma - yet at the same time I felt as if I was floating in space; completely out of contact with the world. It was like flying without wings. I felt as if I was soaring with the gods - as if I had entered heaven.

Suddenly I felt a smack across my taut, bottom. I was shocked by its suddenness and severity. I winced and gulped. I drew my tongue back. I felt a fresh wave of coolness against my soaking face. I felt another smack - this time even harder. The breath was knocked from me. I tried to stuff my tongue back into Caroline’s cunt but now, instead of straddling me, opening herself up to me, she was kneeling above me. And her mouth was no longer against my fleshy crack. She was holding my legs up by the ankles, exposing my taut buttocks, lifting them up for punishment.

‘You have been very naughty, Syra. I can’t believe how easily you are led astray. A few sharp smacks should remind you that this is a place of correction, not a place of pleasure!’

She brought her hand down again. I tightened my body and yelped.

‘I can tell that hurt,’ she said, tightening her grip on my ankles and lifting my legs higher. ‘And it’s a good thing too. We don’t want you thinking you can satisfy your needs any time you like, do we?’

Her childish tone clashed with the sudden heavy smack as she brought down the flat of her hand against my exposed bottom. It struck squarely across my buttocks, sending a sharp sting up inside me and making my skin shiver with pain.

Another one, and this time I felt her smacking hand across the soft exposed flesh of my cunt. I yelped and tightened my body but she only held my ankles tighter and pulled them higher. The palm of her hand tugged at the sticky flesh of my slit as she pulled it away.

‘Three! Four! Five!’ she chimed as she continued smacking me. ‘Six! Seven! Eight! Nine! Oh, Syra, how many more must I give you until I’m satisfied you’ve learned your lesson?’

She lifted my ankles higher and smacked me harder. The slapping sound filled my head. I expected each one before it came and I tightened in anticipation. The sound - sloppy against my wetness, sharp from the sudden contact - the stinging pain, the tautness, the strain on my ankles and legs all combined together into one ecstatic storm. My head was filled with it all. I was overcome with it. I held my tongue out - thinking again of lapping inside her succulent cunt. I heard my guttural groans, my yelping screams. I felt the jolting shivers as each blow was followed by another. I felt the heat that was building inside me as I sensed the oncoming wave of pleasure welling up from deep within my aching cunt.

I heard my yelps changing - becoming higher, more frantic, more demanding. I was no longer pleading for mercy - begging for my punisher to stop - I was pleading for more, begging for her to bring her hand down harder, to count out more, to force my orgasm from me with the pain of it all, to continue until I was thrashed into consciousness.

‘More! More! More!’ I screamed. ‘More!’

I couldn’t hear her counting any more - my head was filled with too much clamour. My mouth gaped wide. Foaming spit bubbled over my lower lip. I wanted to cry out but I could not - I had no more breath, no more energy, I was exhausted.

Suddenly, I felt a new heat inside - like a tropical wave, rocking me from side to side. I felt giddy. I knew she was still spanking me. I knew I could feel pain, I knew I was filled with pleasure, but nothing mattered anymore. The heat inside was transfixing me, filling me with only one thing - the release of my ecstasy, the bursting of the pent up pleasure from within.

It came over me suddenly, sweeping me away like a massive explosion. I knew I juddered, I knew I screamed out, I knew I rose up and shook, but it did not matter. I was a victim to my orgasm as it ripped through me and I collapsed against her still gripping hand as if I was suspended like an animal from a hook in the ceiling. I hung in the grip of an unseen hand - swaying over the heat of a boiling ocean, jerking, dribbling, shaking, not knowing whether I was awake or dreaming, conscious or unconscious, not knowing whether I was dead or alive. I had given up my life and any control I had over it to my punisher and the delectable pain she had dealt me.