EXTRACT FOR
PUNISHING WENDY
(Kim Hardwick)

"Marcus, you naughty boy, you just tied my hands.  Are you going to take advantage of little old me?"  Her husky voice, acknowledging the fact surrounding her restraint, filled me with so much lust, I almost skipped the protocols.

"Wendy, you are seconds away from having the most mind blowing orgasm of your life; the first of many tonight."  And for most women, that would be an accurate statement; if you ignore the scars, bruises and contusions.

Standing back, after giving her one final, passionate kiss, I softly cleared her bangs from the front of her face.  I wanted nothing to impede my view of her beautiful face.  Her breasts, so majestic, firm, not droopy.  Her nipples, fully erect and waiting for orders.  Her belly, flat and absent the telltale stretch marks of most women her age.  

In short, she was magnificent.  And she was all mine.

"Marcus, you bad boy, are you going to whip me?"  Her giggle had a slight hint of worry.  As well she should.  I had a special treat in store for her.

Even though I wasn't filming this 'audition', I still kept my professional demeanor.  This meant no talking, no romantic banter.  Once she was tied up, her fate was sealed.  She had boarded the ship of pain and there would be no friendly port of call.

I smiled at her, turned to the always present table by the 'toy' room and opened the door.  I quickly removed the instruments of her torment.  The Corinthian leather flogger; the Thai rattan cane; the Moment of Truth nipple clamps; the assorted needle nose pliers, red candles, chopsticks, and other sundry tools.  I laid these carefully atop the table then went to the corner closet and removed the cattle prod, the pole with the horse cock dildo attached at the end.  

"Marcus, what are you doing with those disgusting things?"  Her tone had instantly changed.  Her husky, aroused voice changed to one of suspicious alertness; almost hostile.  Never ceases to amaze me how fickle women can be.

"Wendy, these so called 'disgusting things' are the instrumentality by which you will achieve historic orgasmic heights.  These tools will leave you by the end of the night, in a state of erotic bliss few women are lucky enough to experience.  I shall begin now."  And with those words, I picked up the flogger and began to lay the loving on her.

For the next five minutes, the sounds of the whip breaking the sound barrier were mixed, and at times, drowned out by the screams.  

"YOU FUCKING ASSSHOLE!  THAT FUCKING HURTS!"