Chapter 7

For a while I could sense nothing, all my feelings were locked inside me, but now everything is there again, every smell, every taste, every pain, every expectation, every hope, every wish and every desire. It is the world providing me with sensations once more. I wonder if he knows that my sense of being has returned. I wonder if he realises I do not need any more treatment. I wonder whether he understands I have been cured of my terrible ailment. I need to show him what has happened, that I am better again, but every time he comes I simply present what I have written to him, and wait. It is as though I no longer have any will of my own, as though, like everything else, it has been taken from me.

Of course, he is right to ignore my silent pleas, for I have not truly been cured, I know that. Even so, as I write my story I am increasingly embarrassed to think that such a short time ago I was incredibly naive and foolish. Surely this feeling is a good sign and part of my cure.

But the feeling hardly lasts long enough for me to notice, let alone for anyone else to observe, and everything I am writing down only reminds me of the pleasure, the dark delight, the wicked ecstasy of my time with Galen. How can I think of anything other than that perversely beautiful experience? And how can I imagine that a cure for how I felt when I was with him is in itself nothing but a different kind of sickness?

Galen came to me before sunrise. I was sitting up again with my back rigid, staring straight ahead of me with the chopsticks tied across my lips, and I did not turn towards him as I heard him approaching. He undid the thin twine at the ends of the chopsticks, and looked at me for a while before he finally released my hands. I remained sitting impassively, not moving, not rubbing my aching limbs nor exercising my stiff lips. I stared straight ahead as if seeing right into eternity.

Suddenly I shivered uncontrollably and immediately felt guilty about having moved. I could still feel the constricting chopsticks across my lips, even though they were no longer there. When he first tied them across my mouth I experienced the pain that accompanied the pinching pressure. It tormented me for hours after I awoke alone in the dark, and then my lips went mercifully numb. They were tingling terribly now as the blood rushed back into them and sensation gradually returned.

‘Go and sleep some more now, my pet,’ he said gently. ‘On a nice comfortable bed with no bondage constricting you.’

I got up, moaning softly. My whole body felt stiff and my back was still aching from his beating. I walked to the bedroom, lay on the bed as he had instructed, and fell swiftly into a deep and dreamless sleep.

I sat up, startled by a hand shaking my sore shoulders. The hand belonged to Eve. She had a white towel draped across her shoulders and was dripping wet. Her dark hair hung in snakelike coils over her shoulders and her tanned skin shimmered like a mermaid’s beneath her strangely glazed eyes. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking directly at my naked pussy. I pulled my legs together a little, in a hopeless attempt to ease the nervous thrill surging through me as I gazed at the pert swell of her breasts beneath the wet towel. My feelings were an oncoming storm flashing with sparks of energy building up inside me. My eyes glazed as I found it hard to focus, feeling the tingling onset of an orgasm wanting to happen. I bit my lip to try and suppress it, but the pain where the chopsticks had been - a jolting reminder of my night of captivity - was like a plug being pulled and releasing the pent-up wave of ecstasy that flowed now unstoppable. I gasped and sat up slightly as the pleasure crested directly between my legs, and then fell back across the mattress as if flung there. The climax drained slowly out of me in my pussy juices, exhausting me, sapping my vitality and leaving me completely depleted. I stared up at the ceiling not remembering for a moment where I was, my thoughts in complete disarray...

The next thing I knew Eve was shaking me again, this time more urgently, as though my awaking would help snap the vague look out of her own dark eyes. Rising after her, I followed her lethargic steps to the upstairs floor and once more seated myself on the raised platform. I glanced down, and saw the padlock was not in its place securing the hasp and staple over the trapdoor. I watched her move out onto the balcony and drop the towel to the floor. She stood naked near the edge, lazily caressing her breasts in the sunshine. She circled them with the tips of her fingers, and then squeezed her erect nipples as if trying to pinch herself fully awake. She looked like the statue of a goddess, golden-skinned, perfectly formed and glistening with divine nectar. It was as if the gods themselves had anointed her in preparation for licking the ambrosial drops from her succulent body, as though without this sweet moisture on their tongues their eternal lives were meaningless. She stepped sideways, standing between me and the sun, and a blazing halo of light formed around her body as though she was burning with a force beyond the understanding of mere mortals.

Absently, I lifted the metal hasp sitting unprotected beside the padlock, the shiny staple bent in a hook within the hole at its end. It came free easily, and when I tugged at it a little more, the crack between the tight-fitting doors of the hatch opened slightly, enabling me to look inside. A steel bar was fixed beneath the crack and at its centre sat a reel like a small windlass. I bent forward to stare beyond it, but saw only darkness. I opened the door wider, lifting until it was at a right angle to the top of the rostrum, but still I could see nothing. It was completely black inside - a silent, abysmal void. I felt disappointed and angry, remembering Galen’s proclamation that beneath the hinged doors lay ‘everything I had ever desired’. There was nothing there; his promise was empty and I pouted in profound annoyance.

He entered the room suddenly and called Eve off the balcony. He asked her if she was all right, and she nodded, unconvincingly, I thought. ‘Perhaps it was too much for you?’ he asked cryptically.

‘Never,’ she said firmly, blinking hard, as though having stared at the sun for so long she could not rid herself of the silhouette blotting out her vision.

He came to me and draped his arm around my shoulders. ‘Syra, my pet, are you ready to pursue your goal? Are you prepared to approach your fears and awaken your darkest sexual desires? Are you, as you agreed, ready to be truly bad?’

The question seemed loaded with menace and I felt confused. The way forward seemed to have no limits, no restrictions, and I shivered at the thought of what awaited me, but I could not go back, of that I was sure. ‘Please,’ I whispered, as if my will was indistinguishable from his, ‘take me to the limit.’

This time he told me I must wear a vest, a skirt and sandals and nothing else, but I could choose them from the closet myself. I showered, and then selected a tight white vest, a short black pleated skirt and black leather sandals with shiny metal buckles. The skirt fitted tightly around my hips and the pleats spun out when I turned around swiftly. Galen seemed pleased when I presented myself to him. He told me to bend over and touch my toes. He wanted to determine how far he could see up my skirt. I obeyed him and waited while he stared at me. I knew what he could see and I felt moisture collecting between the exposed lips of my pussy.

The same taxi driver as before picked us up and drove us to the bullring again. Eve sat in the front and I sat in the back beside Galen. The dark-haired driver leered at me in the rear-view mirror, but I pretended to ignore him. He tilted the mirror down and I could tell he was attempting to look up my skirt. I did not ask for Galen’s approval - I chose to believe I had it - and opened my legs enough for the young man to glimpse the pouting lips of my delectable slit. He adjusted the mirror again and I moved forward slightly on the seat so I could spread my legs just a little bit more.

The sensation of his gaze focused alternately on the road and on my naked sex was like being stroked with something soft and smooth, and yet at the same time slightly and excitingly abrasive. I felt his penetrating glances mysteriously parting my labia and prying into the darker pink folds leading into my vagina. His eyes found my clitoris, and as I squeezed my buttocks together and edged forward in the seat even more, I felt his stare pressing against its inflamed tip. I wanted to lift my skirt around my waist and drape myself over the front seat, bent at the waist, my naked bottom thrust high and visible through the windows as I took his cock in my mouth and sucked him down while he drove through the busy streets. I pictured the gawking stares of passers-by as I lowered my face over his throbbing erection, letting my weight drive it deep into my mouth until it filled the back of my throat. I imagined the cab stopped at a busy intersection and faces peering through the windows, staring at me as I swallowed his pulsating flesh, gulping it down greedily, consuming it and nearly drowning myself in the salty fountain that erupted into my throat...

Galen reached over and pulled the hem of my skirt down. The pleats dipped between my knees and completely covered my pussy. I felt censured from my own fantasies and stupid for assuming he did not know my thoughts. I dropped my gaze and pressed the pleats firmly between my thighs to protect what lay beneath them from the driver’s gaze.

Galen paid the man and told him to wait; we would not be more than an hour, he said. He held my arm as we walked through the entrance tunnel while Eve walked behind us listlessly, a loose-fitting red leather jacket hanging from her shoulders and a short white skirt riding high up her thighs with her every step. Mora was in the president’s box, and when he saw us step out onto the terraces, he waved and beckoned to us enthusiastically.

‘No Espartaco today,’ he declared, as we entered the red-curtained box. ‘Perhaps he has lost his courage and run away.’

Galen patted the chair next to his and I sat down. The pet did not join us in the box, but wandered off into the crowd, pulling her jacket back onto her shoulders whenever it was inadvertently knocked off by the glancing caress of someone she brushed past. Galen talked to Mora about Espartaco. He told him the agreement he had come to with Gonzalo and Juan Carlos, and they laughed together about the matador’s fate.

‘You will see, Mora, Espartaco will be my greatest success yet,’ Galen concluded arrogantly, and then looked at me. ‘Although there may be greater successes in the future,’ he added, smiling.

I nodded at him silently, thrilled by his words but concealing my pleasure.

‘Look,’ Mora said, ‘there is Juan Carlos now. He has a young woman with him. Perhaps he has brought you someone fresh for your experiments? Perhaps she will be the next subject of your research? Yes, perhaps she will be the success that will eclipse all your other achievements, including Espartaco.’

Juan Carlos pushed his way across the terrace towards the box. Behind him trailed the young blonde with the short dress I had seen him watching yesterday. She looked innocent and energetic as she hung onto his outstretched hand and stepped through the crowd. She wore a wide-brimmed straw hat and her long hair hung across her shoulders from beneath it. Her pale skin seemed to shine in the dappled illumination pouring in from beneath the latticework of the hat, covering her in gentle flickering lights, accentuating her youth and vitality.

‘I have brought someone to meet you,’ Juan Carlos announced, sounding slightly out of breath.

‘So I see,’ Galen replied serenely. ‘You remember my pet, Syra, I’m sure.’

Juan Carlos looked a bit embarrassed. He nodded vaguely in my direction, the polite way he inclined his head expressing a weight of guilt along with an acknowledgement of our secret, which he obviously hoped was still safe.

I nodded back at him and smiled, but my smile did not bless our complicity, it was an expression of pleasure as I was reminded of the delectable pain I had suffered for my faithless disobedience with him.

‘You do remember my pet, Syra, don’t you?’ Galen asked him again.

‘Si, si... yes, of course,’ he said, apparently flustered.

‘And who is your new acquaintance?’ Galen had not taken his eyes off the young blonde since she’d entered the box.

She extended her arm without being introduced, and her pert breasts were outlined against her pale cream dress as Galen took her hand, seemingly captivated by her air of naive enthusiasm. She sat down next to him and I observed that her legs were beautifully shaped and firm with youth. She turned her face towards his. ‘Juan says you are on the lookout for students to take part in your experiments,’ she spoke with an American accent. ‘I’m Cleo, Cleo Gresham, and I’m really keen to take part in them, Mr Galen. I assume you pay?’

He smiled at her, and then laughed, delighted. Her bluntness amused him and he revelled in the closeness of her nubile young body. ‘Yes I do, Cleo, if you perform well.’

‘Then look no further!’ she exclaimed. ‘Take me to your laboratory!’

‘Slow down, slow down,’ Galen urged her, still chuckling. ‘Juan Carlos will bring you to my house later. We can sort things out there.’

We sat through several bullfights. I was not so keen on watching the bloody display as I had been yesterday when Espartaco was in the arena. I was more interested in Cleo and the way she was fawning over Galen. She rested her hand on his knee, pressing down on it as she feigned to concentrate on what he was saying, because her slightly vacant gaze told me she was not really listening. When there was a gap in the conversation she filled it with some inane comment, and I came to the catty conclusion that she was not very bright. Her energy was initially engaging, but as the sun began descending from its burning throne at the sky’s zenith, Galen seemed to begin tiring of her.

The last match of the afternoon was disappointing. The bull would not fight and the matador circled the ring in apologetic frustration, looking lonely as he paraded his loss and depression before the unresponsive crowd. Then Galen announced he wanted to go look at some of the bulls.

We walked around a network of corrals located below the stadium, and several young bulls thrashed restlessly against the sides of their pens as we approached.

‘They are like you, Cleo,’ Galen remarked, ‘very lively.’

She pushed her hat off, and the string dangling from each side of the wide brim pressed against her throat as the weight of the straw fell between her shoulder blades. She jumped up on the side of a heavily built pen and reached out to the bull pacing around inside it. Her short dress hiked up as she bent forward, revealing a pair of tight white panties riding up into the cleft of her firm buttocks.

‘Why is this one blindfolded?’ she asked curiously, leaning over further and extending one shapely leg for balance.

‘So he cannot see your panties and go mad with lust,’ Galen replied, smiling.

She ignored his compliment and leaned even further over the edge of the pen, exposing the tight bulge of her pudenda inside the taut material of her panties. ‘You really are a sweetie,’ she cooed, caressing the bull’s ears and tickling his nose while he stood perfectly still, as though astonished someone was daring to touch him so casually. ‘Such a little angel you are, and they won’t allow you to see anything,’ she murmured, stroking his muzzle. ‘There, there...’

I was amazed by her complete lack of fear, or she was incredibly stupid and did not realise the danger she was in. She was treating this wild creature like a domesticated pet. I wanted to jump up beside her and show Galen I was as fearless as she was, but it seemed a ridiculous gesture, stupidly competitive, an act of rivalry unworthy of me, so I did nothing.

We walked to the place where the bulls were released into the ring. A heavily built barrier of horizontal timbers barred the way, and when the bull entered the arena from the pens below it forced him sideways, disorienting him before he caught sight of his waiting foe. A heavily tooled black leather saddle sat on top of the wooden barrier, and Eve was leaning on one end of it talking to a young man wearing jeans and brown leather chaps tied over them with leather thongs. The worn and shiny chaps were cut off halfway up his thighs, and because they were pulled up and tied on the outside of his hips to his belt, they accentuated the already large bulge at his crotch.

Galen walked over to the pet, and cupping her breasts, kissed her passionately on the mouth. She returned his kiss fervently, placing her hands firmly against the nape of his neck and pressing her body tightly against his as she raised herself up onto her toes. I could see she was thrusting her tongue deeply into his mouth, and wanted to snatch her away from him and take her place.

Cleo rushed past me and walked straight up to the young man. She boldly stroked the shiny leather of his riding chaps with both hands, and they laughed like old lovers. I hated her in that moment, hated her easy intimacy and her fearlessness. It was what Galen had promised for me, and it was as if with every one of her precocious actions she was stealing away my own fate.

Galen finally released Eve and she stepped back away from him, caressing her forehead as though dizzy and trying to focus.

‘My students have to pass an entrance test,’ Galen stated.

‘Then I will take it!’ Cleo cried and stood at attention, her back rigid and her chin thrust into the air.

‘Your test is simple,’ he told her.

‘Yes?’ she insisted, obviously eager to prove she could easily pass with flying colours.

‘To give me pleasure.’

‘Oh, that will be easy,’ she said, pressing the tip of her forefinger against her nose as she pretended to consider the problem.

‘But, of course, as with any test, you have competitors.’ Galen extended his hand, first towards Eve and then towards me.

I felt annoyed at being used like this, as a prop, and I hated Cleo for invading the springtime of my new world with Galen. I wanted to call her names and grab her by the hair and toss her out of the arena. I wanted to incite the crowd to jeer at her and show Galen what a fool she was. But I suppressed my jealous rage. Surely he could not have abandoned me so quickly. It was impossible he had given up on me without testing me further. His experiment with me had only just begun and already I knew he was not the kind of man to give up so easily. He looked at me, and held my eyes as if I should be able to understand his thoughts, as if there was some secret communion between us, but I could only stare back at him morosely, my mind filled with the apathy of a forsaken and jealous lover.

He instructed us to stand with our backs against the wooden barrier, and the three of us did as we were told. We stood in a row almost touching each other, with Cleo in the centre, watching as he gathered some red ribbons from a bunch hanging next to the bull pens, and handed them to the man with the leather riding chaps. Without being instructed, he walked up to Cleo and placed one of the ribbons over her eyes, wrapping it around her head and effectively blindfolding her. She did not speak, but I could see by the way she squeezed her thighs together that she was excited. He then attempted to blindfold Eve, but she pushed his hand away and looked at Galen as if unprepared to submit to anyone or anything without a direct order from him. He nodded, and she immediately closed her eyes as the ribbon was tied tightly around her head.

The young man then stood in front of me with ribbons dangling from his hand, and I wondered what I should do. Should I submit like Cleo, squeezing my knees together in excited anticipation, or should I surrender impassively like Eve as if nothing in the world could harm me? He held up the ribbon and I pushed it away.

‘Is your wickedness still in sight, Syra?’ Galen enquired sternly.

‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘it is.’

‘Then why do you resist? You have nothing to fear. I will be watching you, my pet.’

I felt my insides melting, as if my soul had been snowbound and now, magically transported to a tropical shore, I was swiftly thawing out in the generous warmth of the sun. I felt myself basking in his words and the tenderness in his voice. He would be watching me. What more could I wish for? I tilted my head back slightly and parted my lips as I yielded to the red ribbon.

I heard nothing to begin with; everything was silent. Then, after a few moments, I began to hear the buzz of insects coming and going as they hurried along seemingly erratic but actually purposeful routes. I turned my head to one side to follow their progress, but stiffened suddenly as I heard someone walking up in front of me. I lifted my head slightly and cocked it to one side, waiting for a clue as to whose footsteps they were. Then I heard Eve moan... or was it Cleo? I could not tell. The sound came again, a low purring noise but smoother, like a deeply satisfied sigh. I cocked my head again and concentrated... it was Eve moaning, I was sure of it.

I imagined Galen watching me as the young man in the leather chaps stood in front of the pet. Yes, Galen would not be interested in her, he had told me he was going to be watching me, I was all that mattered to him. A surge of pleasure coursed through me at the thought. I was blindfolded, unable to know what he was planning for me, unable to see what was happening around me, but all the time he would be watching only me...

I heard the moaning sound again. This time it broke off in the middle, and I imagined the young man stroking Eve’s pussy with the flat of his hand, making it wet, teasing her labia with his fingers, prising open the soft petals and exposing the darker inner flesh before suddenly finding her clitoris with his fingertips. But had he taken her panties off? I was not even sure she was wearing panties. If she was, perhaps he simply edged the gusset aside so he could touch her naked flesh...

This time I heard a gasp as though she was restraining an orgasm, trying to hold it back, waiting until she was given permission to release it. She gasped again, a soft inhalation of breath, and then was silent, as though biting her lip to keep from crying out. I listened intently, and heard what sounded like skin brushing against something - something smooth and supple. Yes, she was pulling her legs up around the man’s shiny leather riding chaps, delighting in the feel of her flesh against them and allowing it to feed her passion. I heard a soft but distinct cry and the motion of her legs against the leather increased in pace. The caressing was more rapid, more urgent, more in need of satisfaction, and her next moan was less restrained, an open admission of passion breaking free inside her. I listened to the subtle whispers of their limbs intertwining. I seemed to be able to hear him driving his hips against hers, rubbing the leather against the insides of her thighs, massaging her, stroking her. I wondered if she was riding him, her arms wrapped around his neck, her legs around his hips. Was she impaling herself on him in a frenzy of lust, clawing at him, digging her nails into his neck?

I could sense her feeling the heat from his body, tasting his lips as she rode his erection. Did I hear his trousers being undone? Did I hear him opening them and releasing his fleshy cock, holding the rigid offering in his hands, feeling its throbbing veins and pulsating centre? Was she wrapping her legs even more tightly around his hips now? I heard her panting, breathing hard, forcing herself down over him, forcing him deeper and deeper inside her. Then there was a moment of sudden stillness and silence, a second of inactivity just before I imagined them climaxing together explosively, his semen bubbling into her as her vaginal muscles clenched around him. And in that moment of expectation, that breathless pause before a deluge of delights, I heard another equally urgent and rhythmic gasping, the sound of someone reaching her own delectable fulfilment. The panting breaths were accompanied by a sense of movement, and I pictured Cleo masturbating as she listened to Eve being fucked, and Galen watching her. He was seeing her with her white panties pulled down around her knees, the red blindfold across her eyes, her dress pulled up above her firm breasts. He was watching her hand where it was working between her legs, teasing the flesh of her labia, playing with the soft folds and releasing the magical energy contained in the hard clitoris crowning them. In my mind’s eye I could see her as clearly as Galen could, a nubile young beauty lost in her own world of pleasure and energised by it, her senses reeling with whatever erotic images aroused her most as she played with herself, enjoying her body and holding back only as long as she wanted to, until she knew he had seen enough and could release her blinding orgasm.

I did not know what to do. I did not know whether to sink to my knees and crawl towards him, to show how readily I could submit, to show I did not care what happened to me as long as he was there and watching me. I wanted to beg him to have me tied to the barrier and left there until the crowds returned. I wanted to plead with him to tie me against the saddle slung across the top of the barrier and make me wait until the first raging bull - froth spilling from its mouth as it shook its heavy head - charged from the pen and stopped in front of me, confused, not knowing which way to turn. My thoughts were trampled by a muddled turmoil of emotions, but I knew I had to show him, had to prove to him I was worth watching...

I stepped forward, but hands gripped my wrists and lifted my arms. I was forced back against the heavy boarded barrier and my outstretched wrists were tied against it. I thought of struggling, perhaps that was what he wanted, to watch me fighting for my freedom, but before I could decide how to react I felt smooth leather pressing against the insides of my bare thighs as my skirt was eased up around my waist, and the unmistakable warmth of a throbbing cock pressed against the wet folds of my moist cunt.

I cannot say what I felt most as the anonymous erection thrust up inside me. My ears were still filled with moaning sounds of struggle and delight, my mind was crammed with images of perspiring bodies shuddering in the throes of ecstasy, and my pussy was filled with a rigid, unyielding heat lifting me up around it as though I was being impaled on a freshly forged iron rod. I was so weak with lust I could only allow myself to be taken, my hands held fast above my head, my back forced against the rough planks of the barrier and my mind spinning with a dazzling kaleidoscope of sensual images. I felt as if I might not survive the exquisite tumult, as if there was nothing to hold on to except the cock inside me, and even though it hurt not knowing whom it belonged to, its thrusting energy was also my only hope. Its rigid length pinned me against the wall and held me fast, opening me up as it forced and pumped its way in and out of me, faster and harder. My pussy clung to it, tightening around its pulsing length, and when finally, moaning and gasping, I was overtaken by a convulsive climax, I screamed like an animal skewered on a spear.

I do not recall being untied or taken down from the barrier like a victim from a cross. I do not remember the large cock slipping out of me and I do not remember the perspiring breathlessness of recovering from its excruciatingly pleasurable invasion. But I do remember the blindfold being torn off and the dazzling flood of light.

To my delight, Cleo left with Juan Carlos and Eve said she wanted to stay at the bullring for a while, so I was alone with Galen as he walked with me back to the waiting cab.

‘I will drive,’ he said to the taxi driver, who did not look surprised by the curt statement. ‘You get in the back with the girl. I want you to fuck her. She does not have any panties on, so you will need to find something else to tie her wrists with.’ He slipped into the front and started the engine.

I lay across the back seat as the driver got in beside me. The taxi pulled away from the curb with a jolt, and then Galen rested his arm on the back of the seat as he told the young man what to do with me, how to fuck me, how to use me.

I shivered with excitement, listening to him without really hearing his words, my head reeling as he issued detailed instructions - how tightly I was to be restricted and how roughly, and in what order I was to be undressed, how swiftly I was to be penetrated, and how fast and how hard he should thrust his cock into me in order to delay my orgasm. I wanted to hear more. I wanted to hear his description of how I should be made to lie, my exact position, whether I should be allowed to move, even slightly, and make any noise, or whether I should be perfectly still and silent. I wanted to hear him tell the driver where exactly he should come inside me. And if he was not to come inside me, I wanted my master to tell him where to ejaculate and whether he should rub it into my breasts, let it jet across my stomach or between my wet thighs, or whether I should take it all in my mouth and swallow every last drop. And, of course, I wanted to know he was going to watch it all. I wanted to know my master would be looking at me the whole time to ensure we both did everything right. Because if I did not do everything right, then I had to be punished...

The driver put his hands on my thighs and spread my legs wide. My naked pussy was fully exposed to him, pink and moist and glistening at the centre. I could still hear Galen talking to him, but it was harder now to make out his words as the young man lifted my knees and knelt between my legs. I looked up at him, waiting for him to do Galen’s bidding.

He stared down at me a moment before taking hold of my wrists and securing them inside the leather loop hanging above the door. It pinched my skin and I gasped in discomfort as he twisted the strap painfully tight. Then he took hold of my left ankle and slipped my foot into the strap on the opposite side of the car, leaving me stretched out with my arms pulled up on one side and one leg drawn up on the other.

I heard Galen telling him to undo his trousers and twisted my hips slightly - my master had not ordered me to be still - and felt moisture running freely at the centre of my vulnerable pussy. I felt a touch of heat, a subtle burning as the tip of his erection touched me. The soft petals of my labia opened to receive it, parting slowly and expanding around its girth as it slipped inside me. The veins on its surface beat against my delicate flesh, pulsating rhythmically and sending me into a strange, nervous trance. I could still hear Galen’s words as though he was a conductor orchestrating our every movement, every thrust, every tightening of the bonds at my wrists and ankle. But then even his commands were lost to me, swallowed up by the shivers of ecstasy coursing through my body and flooding my mind. I was mesmerised, caught up in a bizarre dream, as if the real world had been suspended and I was living out some kind of half-waking reverie.

The young driver rammed into me roughly, angrily. His hips grazed against the insides of my thighs as he shoved his cock as deep inside me as he possibly could. Every jolt of the cab buried him even deeper between my legs as his rigid penis swelled and pulsed in time with his hands squeezing my buttocks. He dug his fingers into my tender flesh, holding my left cheek as hard as he could, bracing himself on it as he pounded into me.

Then he began spanking me with his other hand, and my right buttock burned beneath every smack of his open palm as his frenzy increased and the force and pace of his blows intensified. My pussy was fully stretched around him, and I felt as though I would die from the terrible pleasure as he erupted inside me with a prolonged burst of hot spunk that seemed to scald my insides. He spanked me a few more times as the last drops of semen trickled from his engorged glans, but the blows were not so fierce and I was so sore I could hardly feel them any more.

Then, suddenly, he twisted me sideways, shoved his knee beneath my hip, and started spanking me again with renewed fervour. I cried out in pain and climaxed violently as the flat of his hand kept beating relentlessly down on my burning bottom.

I must stop writing now. I suffered the impression suddenly that what I was setting down on paper would not please him, and now I cannot go on. I do not know what I can do though, for it is all the truth and he told me I must only write exactly what happened and exactly how I felt. Nevertheless, I feel he will not like what I have said and I am paralysed by fear and indecision.