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Dr. Winthrop Samuels Series Page 2
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Page 2
The street is void of people. Remaining somewhat industrial, few are the buildings converted to residential space. The seclusion is ideal for directing a girl on a leash and I must laugh as Sunny attempts to step toward her apartment without my concurrence. Like a puppy, she strains the leash and whimpers as the myriad of nerve endings in her nose serve to chastise her rash motion.
“Whoa, Sunny. Going somewhere without me?” I laugh in taunting.
I pull to reel in my leashed plaything, forcing her to step towards me and look up at my face.
“How do you feel? You’re being governed by a simple length of string.”
I lift my arm. Having wrapped the twine about my index finger, her nose and face follow.
“You can unhook the clasp, but you do not. You can ask to be released, but you do not. Your muffled gasps suggest pain, yet there is enjoyment.”
She nods, the motion comically adding to the tension on the string.
“We’re going to enjoy each other’s company, Sunny. Come.”
She is surprised when I lead her away from the entrance. Across the street, down the block. Fortunately, perhaps unfortunately for she starved for masochistic attention, there are no passersby. Still I establish my control. She most subserviently follows knowing that the slightest tug brings agony.
“I’ll want to see how nimble that tongue is, Sunny. You promised fellatio.”
***
A dreary day of reviewing data is interspersed with thoughts of that minx Sunny endeavoring to lower my zipper with her teeth.
For a girl of her age, not a bad blow job. I recall in medical school the sardonic discussions concerning the outbreak of teen pregnancy. One wag made the suggestion that more proficiency in oral sex would serve to blunt the epidemic.
Finally walking her back to her apartment Sunny knelt before me, nose leash removed, her arms behind her back, folded upward as I grasped her wrists to render her hands useless.
“Practice, practice, practice,” I lectured as she finally caught the zipper tab in her teeth and pulled downward.
Okay, I helped a little in freeing my penis of my underwear. But thereafter she seemed to be all tongue and lips. Working with zeal, at a young age she has learned to control her gag reflex. When the time came, it seemed like I ejaculated directly into her stomach, my spending accompanied by a slight gulp and a devilish smile in offering such sublime submission.
An inspection of her loft followed. Her clothing removed, she pranced about naked as I learned her abode was large indeed. High ceilinged. Understandably grimy. Otherwise perfect for the games to be played.
In the glow of a gratifying explosion of semen, I learned more about my pet minx. I had her sit at my feet as we talked.
Sunny emigrated from Bulgaria trading casual sex for favors. A truck ride across this country and that. Working westward. Some bigger favors from men of Dominance. A bondage scene here, some flogging there, her age instilled concern in those desiring something long term. All used... abused?.. and encouraged her to move onward.
Eventually came New York. It seems the doggie style sex I envisioned was a favorite of some immigration clerk. An illegitimate visa cost Sunny Sudenskaya three couplings. The clerk’s marital status made the arrangement easy to terminate once papers were received. Vanilla is not Sunny’s thing, but the practicality of accepting penetration earned her a stay.
Sunny is undereducated but bright. Her effervescence brought a job as some minion in an advertising firm.
Gazing down as she spoke, I reached to palpate her flesh, pinching here, prodding there. Supple, lithe, nicely curved, her loose clothing veils an otherwise engaging form. I could not help thinking that she could be folded up and placed in a surprisingly small box. Sans covering Sunny seems to be all breasts and buttocks and such meaty softness is easily shaped for confinement.
Yes, a simple box. Wrapped, labeled and shipped. A packaged masochist, eager to extend her submission, her obedience, an offering of anguish for those who would be amused... such as me.
“I will return tomorrow night at 7:00 p.m. Greet me at the front door downstairs. Naked. I will leash your nose and lead you up the elevator.”
Her flesh turned anserine with the thought. Then she silently nodded.
I look at my watch. For some reason my attention is diverted from reviewing the inspection results of hips placed years ago in dogs. We donate hips to the family pooch with the agreement that upon the animal’s demise, an autopsy can be performed to ascertain wear and tear on our design. Thus Fido’s arthritic hip can be replaced considerably more cheaply than his master’s... one of the ironies of medicine.
It is 6:15 p.m. My grommet device awaits. I load and call for a cab.
***
Sunny shivers deliciously. Though not a cool night the fear of discovery heightens her enjoyment of the abject humiliation of awaiting totally naked in the converted lobby of her building. It was once the loading dock of the converted warehouse and is thus an expansive area partially partitioned to offer a ground floor apartment along with access to the elevator. There are places for her to duck out of sight if neighbors descend on the elevator. But arriving occupants could enter with little notice. Thus Sunny lingers as instructed, prepared to bolt like a frightened rabbit with the creak of the outer door.
I enter and spot her peeking out from behind some crates. I waggle my finger and hold up the little clasp and thin cord, her nose leash. She knows to obediently approach.
“Maybe I’ll walk you up and down the street again, Sunny. So shy.”
She steps forth and I once again admire the girlish form. Breasts which belie her one hundred pounds. Rounded buttocks which enticingly roll with each footfall. She places her hands behind her neck and politely smiles as the clasp enters one nostril, my fingers directing the tip to exit the other. It clicks closed.
“Been a good girl?”
She nods as my right hand raises the cord and with it her face. My left lowers to her pubes. Sunny shaves there, of course, knowing that body hair distracts. My limited training in gynecology offers a quick splay of the outer labia, my middle finger plunging inward... with ease. The minx parts her feet to offer better access.
“You’re wet. Lurking about naked excites you.”
She smiles quite shyly, listening for the descending elevator... or more significantly another creak of the outer door.
“We have work to do. I will walk you outdoors and naked at another time.”
The dripping fingers of my left hand press against her lips. She knows to lick them dry. I direct her to the elevator. In pressing the button, I can only imagine the mental torment as the industrial motor grinds, Sunny wondering whether the car will arrive empty.
“How will you explain this to your neighbors, Sunny? Naked and walking about leashed.”
Stepping into the vast car, I do believe it could lift automobiles, I have Sunny kneel at my feet for the long ascent to the top floor.
“Stay,” I command master to dog.
I do so enjoy the beseeching look as she stares directly up at me. She is more deer in the headlights than canine. The thought that a neighbor may be skulking about offers genuine concern.
Still, the six floors are negotiated without mishap and I bring Sunny into her loft to the sound of a sigh of relief.
The grommet device is ready in my jacket pocket. She’s been waiting and thinking all day about this visit. Over and above the apprehension of prancing about the lobby naked is the brief but intense pain she will soon feel. I again place her kneeling and step behind her. I tie off her nose leash to a heating pipe, the bondage more symbolic than real. In drawing back her arms I inspect. Just above the right elbow at the inside I swab the surface of her skin with alcohol. Then I pinch the flesh, align, press and the contraption clicks then snaps. Sunny cries out. A second grommet instantaneously pierces her flesh. As stated, it is the equivalent of a hypodermic needle upon entry but the grommet expands the opening and then folds over. N
ot to be removed. Never to slip back out the opening.
I dab away the blood of a pinprick. I reload.
“Every evening, Sunny. One by one I’ll have your body altered for quick bondage.”
The left elbow is next. The swab. The click. The snap. The yelp. The blood. The dab.
“Good girl,” I compliment as I inspect the two new openings.
Small, as with the nose grommet, there are open circles of about a centimeter thrust through a tuft of epidermis, as thick as I could gather. The resulting holes are quite limited in size. Wearing clothing, the traces of metal would not be noticeable to the unwary.
A double ‘D’ clamp unites the two new grommets and thus her elbows. Though supple the short connection renders her hands useless. This is now real bondage.
My hand lowers again. Under the buttocks, slipping past the rose bud of her anus, I explore again to find even more wetness. I smile knowingly. The girl yelps with each snap but she enjoys.
“Come.”
I release the leash and walk her to the pile of pipes and fixtures delivered days ago.
“You can watch as I work.”
A supporting pillar awaits. I take the time to tie off her nose leash high above. Elbows held behind her back, her bondage is no longer symbolic and I take the time to assure she must stand on her toes. Whereas I found her shivering in the lobby, now she shudders. I know it to be a systemic reaction to both the pain and the intrusive action of the grommet device. Similar to having a tooth pulled or some other seemingly minor procedure... the mind shrugs but the body mourns.
“Arroycoo,” I announce with evil glee. “Only a girl with your nasty mind could contrive modern fantasies from such an ancient custom.”
***
As I finish, I note that Sunny struggles to remain on her toes.
“Please Dr. Samuels, my legs...”
Yes, I’ve forced her to her toes for well over an hour. A simple stress position, the slow torment is something she has not before faced. As stated, known for accepting lengthy floggings, the mental endurance utilized in standing on toes, relief coming only with increased tension on the nose leash, is considerable.
“It is good for you, Sunny. Builds character and stronger legs.”
I otherwise ignore her entreaty, fix myself a drink and take a chair to review my work.
Standing in Sunny’s industrial living quarters is a work of industry. I have assembled the many pipes and fixtures into a frame. There are two sturdy rectangles, each some seven feet long and three feet wide. Four six foot pipes hold one rectangle atop the other to join all dozen lengths. The piping is steel and three inches in diameter making the structure quite strong and heavy. As I envision its use, I become stimulated. Gazing at Sunny’s naked form stimulates more.
“I have to go, Dr. Samuels.”
Yes the girl fidgets, clenching her thighs in obvious discomfort in holding the contents of her bladder. I smile.
“Well, we can’t have you soiling the floor.”
The stained hardwood floor remains from the building’s original usage as a warehouse or whatever. So actually, soiling the floor would be of little consequence. Still I arise and move to the kitchen area of the large single room. In a cabinet I find a basin. I return to Sunny, release her nose leash and have her squat. Her legs quake as stiffened muscles labor to position her pubes over the vessel. I hold it in my left hand, and standing to her rear, reach to her cunny with my right.
“Like this?” her deep voice softening to elicit sympathy.
“You’ll perform for me any way I command,” my reply firm as I part her outer labia.
Despite her need, it requires a moment for her to compose herself. But she soon releases. Such an obedient girl.
I dispose of the basin and return to the chair, Sunny in tow. She reacts to the leash marvelously, quickly learning to minimize painful tension by anticipating my moves. She knows to kneel between my legs. She knows to begin working my zipper... with her teeth. Her elbows remain encumbered as I offer slack on the nose leash.
While Sunny’s face disappears, tongue and lips rummaging within my zipper and underwear, I palpate her back, an expanse of unblemished skin, neckline to where her buttocks cleave. I smile in noting the plump roundness of the two hillocks. Nicely athletic on such a wispy wench. I sigh as her lips find my penis tip, smiling as she lures my engorging organ from its nest.
“You’ll learn to enjoy the frame. Just a few more days.”
My manhood rises and Sunny dutifully engulfs. Fellatio begins in earnest. Sunny’s impressive oral skills contrast her age. Some how, some way, the eighteen year old has the tongue of an aging whore. A lifetime of talent learned in months... convincing truck drivers of their need for her company. From Bulgaria to Britain, Sunny sucked her way across Europe... to her new life.
Yet her guilt is apparent. Arroycoo. Such a thought.
It is without pretense that I once again spend strongly and deeply into Sunny’s gullet. It’s her purpose for being as far as I am concerned. And it seems that I am feeding her. Male seed has become some form of nutrition in Sunny’s world of submission, humiliation and masochism.
I pause in the glow of satiation.
“I will masturbate you,” I calmly announce.
With a girl of Sunny’s ilk, one must offer the proper catalyst. I position a nearby lamp, move her to straddle my knees facing away, then pull down on her nose leash to force her to slump over. My foot catches the end of the leash and continues to tension. Sunny’s torso slowly lowers until her forehead touches the floor between my shoes. Her buttocks are widely parted. I lift one of her feet then the other to place her calves outside the arms of the chair, further parting her thighs and offering unfettered access to her charms.
The lamp burns brightly. Widely spread, held almost upside down, the extreme exposure and humiliation is just what the doctor ordered... Dr. Winthrop Samuels, of course.
“Let’s explore a little, Sunny. Every girl is just a little different...”
***
For the third day in a row, thoughts of Sunny come to mind as the afternoon of reviewing reports becomes tedious.
The dichotomy of yesterday’s visit... first the quick but intense pain of adding grommets, the slow stress of standing on toes, the slower pleasure offered as I leisurely masturbated her, upside down, extremely spread and lit up like a statue... brings a smile. Both Sunny’s body and emotions became toys... for me. And I played without compunction.
Sunny’s vagina was tight and responsive. For all the kink, all her oral offerings, Sunny has had limited vaginal penetration of late. I worked her urethral sponge, the so termed ‘G’ spot, and manipulated her clitoris... endlessly. When I finally wanted to bring an ultimate climax, I palpated about her urethral opening, tracing then rubbing my index finger along the ‘U’ shaped erogenous area of which not even most women are aware.
Thighs clenched, vaginal walls oscillated, she ejaculated, wetting my trousers.
I removed my leash, unclipped her elbows and left her as a pile of spent flesh.
Yes, I graciously offered a treat, returning what she has trained herself to offer others without contrition... that is unbridled pleasure. Something about remaining fully clothed and having Sunny expose herself to the extreme, her wet pink love canal glistening under the lamp, brought her need for humiliation to a furious level of satiation.
Time for my cab ride to Ludlow Street. Grommet device at the ready, leash, clamps... Sunny awaits naked in the lobby, dodging arriving building dwellers. I instructed her to be there at 5:30 p.m. I did not inform her when I would arrive.
I will take my time. Perhaps she will meet one of her neighbors...
***
Past 6:30 p.m., the cab delivers me to Ludlow Street. Sunny has obediently been waiting as instructed. When the creaking door announces my arrival I note the minx is once again hiding her naked form.
“I have had to duck so many times,” she pouts in a childish voic
e. “You said 5:30.”
“I instructed you to be naked and waiting in the lobby at 5:30. I did not indicate when I would arrive.”
My tone is direct yet carefree as Sunny knows to turn so I can clip her elbows together. I note that just as with hypodermic injections there is little evidence about the small tufts of skin grommeted the day before. Quite the clever device I have developed. Instant body bondage. Limited extended reaction and trauma.
I clip on the nose leash. She expects to go to the elevator. Instead I take her to the door. I can feel her resistance through the taut string wrapped about my finger.
“It’s a nice night for a walk,” I declare pulling firmly.
Having just traversed the block, I know there is limited activity. And though remaining warm, the autumnal equinox has brought early darkness. Still Sunny demurs, futilely fighting my controlling hand as the pain of the nose grommet prevails and we step from the building. A slight breeze brings her perky nipples to stand like begging puppies. I detect goose bumps.
“Snotty little girls need discipline. You’ll not again question my instructions or my deeds.”
Naked, bound, outdoors and exposed to all, the masochistic mental conflict is palpable. The humiliation of possible discovery is both craved and feared. How will she explain this to unwitting neighbors?
Alas, with few buildings being converted to residential quarters, the street is eerily empty. Warehouses have closed for the day. Others are abandoned. There is no reason not to push the envelope of acceptable behavior.
I walk one to two steps ahead. I detect whimpering. Oh! this is delicious.
A van turns the corner, headlights beaming. I pause to torment then lead to an alleyway, the driver focused on building numbers and not on my naked and leashed pet. The vehicle stops adjacent to where we are concealed, the driver making a delivery. Sunny is momentarily trapped.
“While we’re waiting, Sunny. You may squat and do your business. Go ahead... psst, psst.”
She does, parting her feet, bending at the knees, urinating in the ally as the van driver returns, revs the engine and departs. I reach and knead Sunny’s left ear as her bladder empties. In the gloaming I can see the nipples standing even firmer. She protests yet she enjoys, her stimulation quite evident.