Dr. Winthrop Samuels

 

My name is Dr. Winthrop Samuels. Some of you readers may remember the name, and me, from the 'Suspension Bondage' affair, in which I accommodated the curious penchants of Ms. Sunny Sudenskaya.

If not, I offer some background...

I am a doctor. I have a medical degree but never see patients. With my graduate studies in engineering I work in medical research... orthopedic devices... replacement joints mainly. So I have forgone the general practice of medicine... the moans and groans of the hypochondriacs, the sniffles of spoiled children, the miserably living and the soon to be dying... for a less exciting but equally lucrative career in designing, testing and ultimately selling very precise and expensive devices... for the most part knees and hips.

Yes, it's not overly exciting. Lots of testing, lots of data to evaluate, meeting after meeting, hour after hour before the Cad cam terminals (computer aided design, computer aided manufacturing)... lots of waiting as prototypes wear in clinical trials.

I suppose it's this prosaic professional career that has fostered a sort of 'Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde' lifestyle, my social life quite the contrast.

You see, I am a sadist. And though I do not announce, broadcast, wear such on my sleeve so to speak, my own proclivities are known within the New York D/s clubs where, under my middle name, the nom de guerre 'Haig', folks of my ilk gather nights and weekends and fervently endeavor to satiate the masochists... and doing so, ironically, by assuring that they are never really satiated. Yes, Dr. Winthrop and Mr. Haig, not the literary ring of the classic Robert Louis Stevenson story but somewhat analogous.

Whereas I keep a low profile at these fetishist gatherings, playing the role of curious observer more than active participant, I am known from time to time to arrange for a private tete a tete when the right morsel of quivering flesh proves to be tempting.

My good friend, Louise Flanner, aka Nurse Rachet, assists. More outgoing, more active in the scene, she will on occasion steer my attention. Louise is polysexual, able to obtain equal glee in tormenting both the genders... and those in between. So she keeps her eye out. And whereas I can't say she sends me her rejects, there are little strumpets in need of discipline who seek correction from 'Daddy'. So as with Sunny Sudenskaya, I accommodate, briefly adopting and offering correction on a given Saturday night, but rarely in such an intriguing manner as assuming ownership, as with Sunny.

And so there comes the affair which I mnemonically refer to as 'the blacksmith's daughter'. Louise recommended that the girl talk to me and also called me to recommend highly that I agree to see her.

Of course, I inquired about the nature of this proposed meeting, desiring my private life to be as confidential as possible. Louise is one of only a handful of people who know both the details of my vanilla life and my deviant social activities. When attending social events I am 'Haig', my middle name... never Winthrop or Winnie. And never ever 'doctor'. I have much invested in my medical license and intend to keep it.

 

Chapter One

The story begins...

 

"What's it about, Louise?"

"You'll see. Trust me, Winnie; you'll be as intrigued as with Sunny."

She brings this up to entice, my initial contact with the orally gifted Sunny was indeed as a result of Louse's recommendation... to Sunny. And she likes to tease, knowing that my hyperactive scientific mind cannot process vagueness. It frustrates... and Louise knows how to frustrate.

"Over coffee?" I suggest.

"I recommend a place where she can be exhibited."

It's a code, the phrase meaning a location where I can have her stripped naked. More tantalizing intrigue.

Well, I only take girls to my place after some vetting, to assure such are into the scene and indeed won't change their minds, calling the authorities in some rash afterthought. I am comfortable with Louise. I am sure this girl is somewhat vetted by her. But I fish for more than what Louise cares to offer.

"How do you know this girl... this Sandra?"

"She experienced the ignominy of being tossed out of Spankers... conduct unbecoming a pervert," Louise offered with a laugh.

Spankers is one of the many BDSM clubs Louise regularly frequents. To be tossed is unusual, not much is forbidden, as one can imagine.

"Tossed out? For what?"

"It seems that to be bestowed with her gift of oral satiation there is a price to be paid. You know the rules..."

Yes, I do. No professionals. It's a social club for consenting adults, although visitors of my ilk hope not too consenting. I hate it when the bondage is deemed superfluous.

"How did she get in?"

"Offered a free one to the randiest guy she could find at the club's entrance. His membership is suspended, of course."

"So you are suggesting I meet with a pro? Come on, Louise, you know that's not my style."

"Not a pro, just desperate for money. And I think you can help her... and it will scratch that itch."

More code for the gratification attained in bringing young feminine flesh under my complete control... which is the issue in dealing with professionals. When the encounter is based on pecuniary interests, who really controls?

"I don't want anyone I have not before met at my apartment. So where can I have her exhibited?"

"She is unaware of your thing... our thing. I recommended you as a professional who can help her. So I suggest meeting in your laboratory. You said yourself it's lonely there working at night."

A rather stunning suggestion. Yes, I spend many late hours when clinical trials end and there is a deluge of data which needs immediate evaluation. Quiet is best... and in the late hours the lab becomes a bat cave, empty of all until dawn. But I insist on a professional atmosphere and shepherding a girl known for her skills as a fellatrix is dicey. Yet Louise's tease is working. After all, there was Sunny Sudenskaya. Quite the gratifying encounter.

"Ok, tell this Sandra to drop by tomorrow night at 8:00 p.m. I will alert the security guard. But, Louise, no propositioning... and make sure she's appropriately attired!" My last comment coming as I envision the likes of a Tenth Avenue, gum chewing street walker trying to convince security that she has a legitimate appointment with the noted research designer, Dr. Winthrop Samuels.

What am I getting into?