Hooker

When I got home, I gave John a call.

“John, have you heard from Rachel?”

“Yes, she called me. She told me she got the pictures.”

“So what can we do about it?”

“Not a lot. I told Rachel I could probably stir up some sort of legal ruckus, but it would involve making the pictures public. You can imagine what Rachel said to that.”

“Yes, I can. So that leaves us no options?”

“It leaves me no options.”

“I see. Thanks for the advice.”

“Anytime.”

My final comment to John was genuine, not sarcastic. I had known John long enough to understand when he was trying to tell me something he would be ill advised to put into words. He had said that he had no options. He did not say that I had no options. I was going to have to deal with Gayle on her own level.

I got a beer and sat on the front porch, letting my mind pick around the edges of the problem. I had an idea, but I didn’t really like it. I was letting my mind wander, hoping something else would come to me.

I finished the beer and went back in for another. This was bigger than a one beer problem. As I headed back outside, the phone rang. It was Rachel.

“Bob, I need to talk to you.”

“And who am I talking to? Is it Rachel or Gretchen’s mother.”

“It’s Rachel, although Grethen’s mother may have a few comments, too.”

“I’ll enjoy talking to both of you. Did you have your talk with Gretchen?”

“Yes. We both learned something. She really likes you. That counts for a lot with me.”

“Hence the call from her mother?”

“Not entirely. Rachel has her own feelings.”

“I see. And what is Rachel feeling?”

“Rachel would like to see you again.”

“That would be nice. How about Friday?”

“Friday’s fine. Gretchen has an overnight at a friend’s house.”

“Good. So do you.”

The conversation with Rachel left me feeling almost light headed. I tried to return to the problem of dealing with Gayle, but it was no good. My mind kept going back to Rachel. It didn’t matter anyway. My mind was made up. I would indeed deal with Gayle on her own level.

Friday I picked Rachel up at her house and took her to dinner. We discussed her conversation with Gretchen.

“I know it’s hypocritical, but I don’t want that for her. For that matter, I don’t want it for me, but I can’t help what turns me on.”

“Neither can she.”

“I know, but I’m afraid for her. She could get hurt.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much. It’s not all that easy for a young woman to get someone to tie her up.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am. When was the last time anyone did that to you?”

“Never, but I never asked, either.”

“Why not?”

“I was ashamed of what I wanted. It was just too embarrassing to ask for that.”

“Tonight that’s going to change.”

“How? I didn’t have to ask you.”

“We still have the contents of your last envelope to deal with. When we get to my house, you’re going to ask to be punished and you’re going to tell me what punishment you wish me to inflict.”

“Bob, no. Please...I just can’t.”

“You can. If I’m going to give you what you want, you’re going to have to ask me for it.”

“Please, Bob. Don’t make me do this.”

“You’re having no problem begging at the moment. I suggest you save it for when it might do some good.”

Rachel looked down at her plate and didn’t speak. I pushed my fork off onto the floor and bent to pick it up. I used the opportunity to wrap my hand around Rachel’s ankle. I slipped her shoe off and pulled her leg out straight, resting her foot in my lap. My hand remained tightly wrapped around her ankle. I ran the tines of my fork gently over the sole of her foot. Rachel stifled a screech and jerked her foot, but her ankle remained tightly imprisoned in my grasp.

“Rachel, look at me.”

She looked up, but didn’t meet my eyes. I ran the fork over the sole of her foot again, causing her leg to jump.

“Rachel, I said look at me.” Her eyes locked onto mine. “You’re going to do as I require. You will do as you’re told.” I tapped her foot with the fork to emphasize my point. She nodded.

“That’s not good enough, Rachel. I want you to tell me that you will do as you’re told.”

“I’ll do what you tell me.”

“Failure to comply. You were instructed to say you would do as you are told.”

“I will do as I am told.”

“Thank you.” I signaled the waiter for the check, paid, and led Rachel outside.

“Rachel, before we get in the car, you have a decision to make. This is the only decision you are allowed this evening.”

“Let me guess.”

“You don’t need to. You can choose to go home with me. If you do, I will require your exact obedience and punish you when you fall short. If you go with me, you will not be allowed to leave. If you prefer, you can choose to go to your house and you will suffer none of these things, but you will spend your night alone. This is your only opportunity to make that choice. If you go with me, you will stay until I allow you to leave. Choose.”

“Take me with you.”

“Done.”

It was a quiet ride to my house. I was much relieved that my gamble had paid off. I had hoped that Rachel would come to a greater acceptance of herself through her conversation with Gretchen. For my part, I had come to the realization that I required a level of submission from Rachel that I had never before required of anyone. This had partly to do with changes that had occurred within me since Meg’s death, but also had to do with my perception of the basic nature of Rachel. Something within her cried out to be possessed.

Rachel was almost too quiet.

“Having second thoughts?”

“Maybe.”

“It’s too late for that.”

When we arrived at the house, Rachel stood quietly in the entry hall as I locked her in her collar. I stripped her down to her underwear and secured her wrists behind her. After leashing her, I led her upstairs to a full length mirror.

"What are you going to do?" she wanted to know.

“You’re going to tell me what I’m going to do, but not yet. Open your mouth.” I gagged Rachel and turned her to face the mirror.

“Rachel, I want you to watch the woman in the mirror. What can she be thinking? Is she frightened, do you think? Perhaps she’s aroused.” Rachel shivered as I ran my hands lightly down the back of her neck and along her shoulders. “See how she reacts when she’s caressed? How is it that she came to be standing here before you, hands bound behind her, in her gag and her collar? Why did she surrender herself to this? What’s to become of her? You will decide. She has failed to do as she was told and now she stands there awaiting your judgment. When I return, I will remove your gag and you will tell me what her punishment will be.”

I walked away and left Rachel before the mirror. When I returned about 15 minutes later, she was standing as I had left her, still watching the woman in the mirror.

“Have you decided?” I asked.

Rachel nodded slowly. I removed her gag.

“Well, what’s to be her penalty?”

“She needs to be spanked,” Rachel said in a quiet detached sounding voice.

I led Rachel to the basement.

“Where are we going,” Rachel wanted to know. She had never been to the basement and didn’t know about my special room.

“You’ll see when we get there.” I led her down the hall and into a room at the far corner of the basement. The principal feature of the room was a pair of floor to ceiling posts, spaced about three feet apart. Stretched between the posts, about three feet off the floor, was a pair of wide boards, one above the other, each with three semicircular cutouts, one large flanked by a smaller one on each side.

“What’s that for?”

“That’s where she will receive her spanking,” I told Rachel as I removed her bra. “It’s time. She should place her neck in the stocks.”

Rachel slowly walked over and placed her neck in the pillory. I took her hands and placed each wrist in the appropriate notch then closed the stocks on her neck and wrists, locking it in place. Rachel wiggled her hands about experimentally, but her wrists were firmly held.

I squatted in front of Rachel, placing my hand under her chin and tilting her head back so I could look into her eyes.

“It’s time now, Rachel, but she has to ask me. That’s your job, to beg me to spank her. Then it will be my job to make her beg me to stop. Now, do as I require.”

“Please, spank her. She needs to be spanked.”

“I know she does,” I said gently. “Tell her she can scream if she needs to. She won’t disturb anyone.”

I stepped behind Rachel, got her panties off, and bound her ankles tightly. I had brought a rattan cane to the basement. It was one of a pair I had purchased for use on Rebecca. I had never used it on anyone I was serious about so I was a bit dubious about using it on Rachel. The only other person who had felt it had been Dr. Ann, who, like Rebecca, had screamed herself nearly unconscious during her encounter with it.

The first blow resulted in a sharp intake of breath from Rachel. She was silent for the second, but the third produced a loud shriek. By the fifth the tears were flowing and she began to beg. She begged continuously through the next three and by the tenth all she could say between sobs was “Please...please...please.”

I squatted in front of Rachel again and wiped her tears with a white handkerchief. “Tell me, Rachel, has she learned her lesson?”

“Yes.”

“And what is it that she’s learned?”

“She has learned to do as she’s told.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Tell her she must ask me to continue.”

“Oh, please, no. It hurts too much. She can’t stand it. Please, don’t hurt her.”

“I’m sorry, Rachel, but she has not learned to do as she’s told and you have lied to me. She will not be released from here until she has learned and when we go upstairs you will choose an envelope.”

I gave Rachel five more strokes, which brought renewed tears and desperate shrieking. I returned to the conversation.

“Tell me again, Rachel, has she learned her lesson?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, I’m sure.”

“You know what I require. She must ask me to continue.”

“Please continue her spanking.”

“No, Rachel, she must speak for herself. She must tell me she will do as she’s told. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand. I will do as I’m told.”

“Good. Now you must ask me to continue.”

“Please, continue my spanking.” She began sobbing quietly. I stepped behind her and gave her another three strokes.

I released Rachel from her stocks and held her. “Thank you, Rachel, you did as you were told.”

When she stopped crying, I locked her wrists behind her and led her up to the bedroom. It was too soon to choose her envelope--there were more important things to attend to. I bent her over the footboard of the bed and plunged into her. Rachel moaned and thrashed. When she had subsided, I took her to bed. I noticed she chosen to sleep lying face down.

In the morning we got up and showered, then I made Rachel choose an envelope.

“Do I have to?” she asked.

“If you intend to do as you’re told.”

Rachel selected and envelope and opened it. She extracted the card, read it, then handed it to me.

SPANKING WARRANT

Upon presentation, you will surrender yourself

to the bearer to be securely bound and soundly spanked.

“Does that mean what I think it does?” Rachel wanted to know.

“Yes, it does,” I said, pocketing the card.

We ate breakfast, then I took Rachel home so she would be there in time to fix lunch for Gretchen when she arrived.

On the way home, I did some shopping. I spent the rest of the day preparing for the evening’s activities.

Once it was dark, I drove over to Gayle’s house. I had located it shortly after I had caught her spying on Rachel by simply looking in the phone book. There was a listing for a G. Robbins. I had driven to the address listed and seen the red Dodge was parked in the driveway.

On this occasion, I parked over a block away, then walked to Gayle’s. Besides the red Dodge, there was another car in the driveway. I assumed it was Jacqui’s. I couldn’t tell much by looking at the house. The shades were pulled on the front windows and the front door had no window. There was an alley behind the house. I walked to the end of the block and back up the alley. The back of the house was dark. I entered the yard and walked around the outside, checking the windows. All had shades or curtains drawn and were opaque. I did hear music faintly through the windows at the front of the house. I returned to the rear.

The back door had a window about two feet square. The curtain hung such that there was a gap in the center and I had at least a limited view into the room. I wasn’t able to see much through it. The kitchen was dark and there was a very faint light coming through the door into the next room. I was afraid I was going to have to leave empty handed.

I decided to make one last effort. I slipped a credit card into the door jamb. When I felt it make contact with the bolt, I pushed and felt it slip back. Gayle had an old fashioned slip latch on her back door.

Fortunately, the door wasn’t too squeaky and I crept in fairly silently. I latched the lock in the open position so I wouldn’t have to fumble with it in case I needed to leave in a hurry, then closed the door.

I could hear noises coming from the front of the house and headed toward them. As long as I was silent, I didn’t think they’d notice me. I made my way carefully through the dining room, trying not to bump into any furniture. At the other end of the dining room, I stood behind the door frame and looked into the living room.

Gayle lay on the living room floor with her legs spread wide. Jacqui knelt between Gayle’s legs with her face in Gayle’s crotch. Gayle had her hands on Jacqui’s head, pulling her in tighter, while Jacqui’s arms were bound tightly behind her. Jacqui’s ankles were bound tightly as well. Gayle was alternately moaning and berating Jacqui for the inadequacy of her efforts.

The camera I had brought was an old twin lens reflex made in the sixties. I’d chosen this particular device not only for the large format, but because it had a leaf shutter which was almost completely silent. The film advance, as well as everything else about the camera, was manual, so I had total control over what it did and when. I didn’t want a camera that might decide on its own to use the flash--not a problem with this camera, it didn’t have a flash. I got a couple shots of the scenario in the living room. Both women were naked and there would be no doubt as to their gender in the pictures.

I took two shots of this particular pose. The one disadvantage of the old camera was that I only got twelve shots per roll, so I was going to have to ration them. I had originally intended to shoot through the window so I had brought plenty of film, but I couldn’t risk reloading inside the house.

Gayle started flopping and moaning harder in an obvious orgasm. When she finally quieted down, Jacqui came up for air.

“Did I say you could stop, cunt?” Gayle shrieked. She leapt to her feet, put her foot on Jacqui’s butt, and pushed her down flat on the floor. She grabbed a rod or cane and began beating Jacqui savagely on the butt and thighs.

Jacqui rolled away from the blows and this drove Gayle to greater fury.

“Don’t you try to avoid me, you stupid cunt. You hold still when you’re being whipped. You’re spending the night in the box.”

“I’ll do better. I’ll hold still. Please, don’t put me in the box. Please, don’t,” Jacqui pleaded.

“You’re damn right you’ll do better. Now, on your knees.”

Gayle grabbed a handful of Jacqui’s hair and pulled her to her knees. She started dragging Jacqui toward the dining room. Jacqui was trying to walk on her knees, but with her ankles bound, her progress was slow. I retreated into the kitchen.

Gayle got Jacqui into the dining room and the pair passed right through the spot where I had been standing. I got two good shots of Gayle dragging Jacqui by the hair, then they went through a doorway in the side of the dining room.

The front bedroom was being used as a combination bedroom and dungeon. I watched obliquely through the doorway as Gayle led Jacqui to a corner of the room where a rope dangled from the ceiling. She attached one end of the rope to Jacqui’s wrists and began hauling on the other end.

Jacqui was dragged to her feet. Gayle continued pulling the rope until Jacqui was standing on her toes, bent over with her wrists pulled high behind her, and then tied it off.

Gayle then continued whipping Jacqui. It was much more severe than anything I had ever administered. Jacqui was utterly helpless and exposed. She tried unsuccessfully to stifle her wails.

“Shut up, cunt. If you were good for anything I wouldn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

Jacqui seemed to be in real distress and for a brief moment I considered intervening, but decided that would be foolish. Once the police dragged me off for breaking and entering Jacqui would probably receive worse than she was getting now. I contented myself with recording the event.

Gayle finally took Jacqui down and knelt her next to the bed, then lay back on the bed before her and pulled Jacqui’s head into her crotch.

Gayle had what appeared to me to be a much more satisfactory orgasm this time. This may have been partly due to increased efforts on Jacqui’s part, but I think it was mainly due to Gayle having gotten herself turned on by whipping Jacqui. I got a couple shots of this, but Jacqui was mostly concealed behind the bed and all I could get of her was the top of her head rising above Gayle’s crotch. I did have Gayle in the picture, though, which was my main concern.

“That’s better, cunt. Now, in the box.”

“Don’t put me in there. Please, don’t put me in there. Didn’t I do okay? Didn’t I please you?”

“Not the first time, you didn’t, so you go in the box. Open your mouth.”

Gayle gagged Jacqui, then untied her ankles and led her to a small cedar chest at the foot of the bed. She opened the lid and Jacqui stepped inside. Once she was standing in the box, Jacqui squatted, then sat down. Then she lay back with her head at one end of the box.

“Legs,” barked Gayle.

Jacqui raised her legs in the air. Gayle bound her legs at the ankles and again at the knees, then she stuffed Jacqui’s legs into the box, closed the lid, and locked it. From within the box, I could hear Jacqui trying to beg through her gag.

“Quiet, cunt,” Gayle yelled at the box. “And remember, any mess you make you’re going to lick up in the morning.”

The last shot on my roll was of Jacqui sitting in the box. Now that she was locked in, Gayle was less distracted than earlier. I would need to be utterly silent in my exit.

I managed to exit without incident except for one small problem. If I released the bolt on Gayle’s lock, there would be no way to close the door silently. I left the door unlocked when I departed.

I was troubled by what I had seen. I had only talked to Jacqui twice, but this evening was inconsistent with the personality I had observed. She had seemed outgoing, friendly, and a little brash. I knew she was sexually flexible--bisexual and either dominant or submissive depending on circumstances. Nevertheless, the cowering submission I had seen this evening didn’t fit. The other thing that was noteworthy was that I hadn’t seen any love here. Jacqui was there to serve Gayle’s needs, which seemed to include belittling Jacqui for her efforts. Unless Jacqui was a very different personality than I had surmised, I didn’t see that she had derived any pleasure from the activities. Nevertheless, she was there, so she must be getting something out of it. This evening was consistent with her demeanor when last I had seen her, although she wouldn’t talk to me on that occasion.

When I got home, I went straight to bed, still pondering the paradox of Jacqui. There was no corresponding mystery surrounding Gayle. She had remained true to form as one hundred percent bitch. No redeeming qualities that I could detect, although I suppose everyone has some. I fell asleep still considering the situation and had a dream which seemed to be about the Salem witch trials, in which Gayle was a hypocritical accuser and Jacqui and Rachel were burned at the stake.