Teach Me Tender, Teach Me Rough

by Reese Gabriel

  Victor looked her up and down. “Tempting, but you’ve still got a boyfriend.”

  “We broke up, I told you.”

  “And you would put yourself in Rachel’s place?”

  Cameron’s pulse raced. “Yes,” she said, scarcely recognizing the sound of her own voice.

  The guards looked at Victor, waiting for his reaction. He held them in suspense a moment and then he started laughing. They followed suit.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Victor said. “I’ll leave it up to Rachel. Take off the dental gag.”

  The first guard worked skillfully, pulling the metal contraption from her mouth.

  “Rachel, my sweet,” Victor said. “I know you’ve been listening. What shall I tell our kind visitor and her offer?”

  Rachel’s voice was scratchy and hoarse, but her words were unmistakable. “Tell her…to eat shit…and die.”

  “I am thinking we should take that as a no,” Victor mused. “What do you think, Cameron?”

  “I think she’s scared out of her mind, brainwashed, disturbed.”

  “That’s quite a diagnosis. Do you care to narrow it down?”

  “You know what I mean,” Cameron accused.

  The second guard was already shoving himself between Rachel’s pouting lips. Without the gag on she was required to hold her jaws open, sucking the man deep into her mouth.

  He showed no mercy pushing directly to the back of her throat. Using the cattle prod as a dildo, the guard invaded Rachel, piercing her blatantly parted sex. Cameron tried not to be excited, but her body was betraying her, the tight nipples and the deep throbbing in her cunt.

  Rachel sucked furiously. The guard ejaculated quickly, forcing her to drink down his thick, warm gobs.

  The third guard went right to work, picking up where the second had left off.

  Cameron had expected Victor to take a turn, but after the third man had reached his climax he dismissed the men and fixed himself a drink.

  “Are you going to let her down?” Cameron said.

  The ice tinkled in his glass as he deposited the cubes with a pair of silver tongs. “Rachel is good for hours up there, aren’t you, my sunshine?”

  “I can endure anything,” said Rachel. “For you.”

  Victor took a sip of his scotch. He had not as yet offered Cameron a drink. “I should like to use the pins, Rachel, have I your permission?”

  “My body is your temple, Victor…your playground.”

  Rachel sounded like such an old soul, like there was some nobility in sheer masochism.

  Victor kept the pins in a brown, mahogany box, velvet lined. They were deceptively small, finely pointed with tiny pearl heads.

  “I should be going,” Cameron said hastily.

  Rachel laughed. “I’m the one going to bleed and she’s scared.”

  “Rachel,” Victor said employing an entirely new tone. “You will ask our guest to stay…and to participate if she likes.”

  Her breathing instantly deepened. “Yes, Master.”

  It was the first time she had employed the term.

  “Cameron, please stay?” said Rachel softly, purring like a kitten.

  Victor handed Cameron the box. “I will give you the easy job.”

  He extracted one of the pins. It was a longer one, the size of a sewing needle.

  He went to Rachel, lightly rubbing the tip over her barely, barely grazing it. “You’ve been very naughty, Rachel, you gave our guest a terrible fright.”

  Rachel writhed in response. “Punish me…”

  Victor took hold of her apple shaped breast, expertly squeezing the flesh.

  The needle slid in clean, erotic, the gleaming metal piercing soft flesh.

  Victor paused to play with his victim’s clit.

  “Oh, god,” she moaned. “That’s it, it’s so fucking good…but don’t let me come, just…just drive me out of my fucking mind.”

  Victor inserted a second pin near the first. Slowly, methodically he worked his way around the tender globe. After each pin he paused to stroke Rachel’s clit. She was making a noise now, a kind of moaning sob. Cameron could only imagine the stinging pain, not to mention the agony of riding on the razor’s edge of pain and pleasure, a heartbeat from orgasm.

  Victor took one of the tinier needles. Bypassing her breasts, he moved directly between her legs. Oh, god, now what was he going to do?

  He was manually stretching her labia, getting it ready for the needle

  The room went black before she saw the tiny sliver of gold enter her pink red lip, piercing it like an earlobe.

  Of all the times to faint…

  Chapter Eight

  When Cameron regained consciousness, she found herself back in bed. A doctor was leaning over her, a portly man with thinning hair and pink balloon fingers. She had been having a sexual dream in which Craig was caressing her breast, whispering in her ear how sorry he was and how he would never let them be separated again.

  To her horror she discovered it was the doctor groping her, his hand eagerly massaging under her tee shirt.

  She moved to scream and he covered her mouth with one of his ham hands.

  “Don’t resist,” he rasped. “I know what you are. I know all about Victor’s women, he lets me have my way with them. It’s part of my fee.”

  Cameron’s protests came out a garbled mess. She tried to convey it with her eyes. She wasn’t one of his women, not like that.

  “Relax,” he said, manipulating her rubbery swelling nipple. “It’s not like everyone else doesn’t do worse...”

  His soft fingers had skill and Cameron was still feeling very weak. All the BDSM sex scenes she had been watching hadn’t helped either.

  “That’s it, honey, that’s a good patient.”

  Oh, god, she hated herself for moistening, for giving up her one best chance to fight him off. It wasn’t right—he had no right.

  “Let me just go lock this door…and then…get these shorts off.” He moved fast for a big man, there and back in seconds flat. Sliding his hand under her ass like it was some kind of medical procedure, he lifted her up, managing to work her shorts all the way past her hips.

  “Please,” she said weakly. “I don’t want to do this.”

  “You’re aroused,” he said. “Don’t tell me you don’t want it. Do you need the domination? Victor’s women usually do. It’s okay. It turns me on, too.”

  With that he grabbed her face, both cheeks in one hand. “Now you listen to me, I am the doctor and you’re the patient. You do as I tell you or there will be consequences, understood?”

  She wasn’t ready to give in yet. “If you’re really a doctor you should show mercy.”

  “Not to sluts like you. Shall we do an exam to confirm it? You don’t even know me, you are probably disgusted by me but all I have to do is tell you to spread for my cock and you’re ready like a bitch in heat, aren’t you?”

  She didn’t answer fast enough for her liking. He grasped hold of her left nipple through the tee shirt twisting it.

  “Ouch, you’re hurting me…”

  “You will address me as Doctor or Sir.”

  “You’re…you’re hurting me, doctor.”

  Without letting go of her nipple he lowered his head, swallowing her lips with his. Her struggles and protests dissolved, the pain, the humiliation and the need all mixed in her head, a hot jumble that left her panting.

  He released her, grinning.

  “That’s more like it.”

  Cameron moaned. “Why—why are you doing this?”

  “It’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

  She shook her head no. He just laughed. “Strip,” he ordered. “It’s time for your slut examination.”

  Cameron pulled the tee shirt over her head baring her breasts. She thought about Rachel, poor Rachel stuck with needles, hooded and hung upside down. She had refused a chance to get free. Why?

  For the same reason you are cooperating with this so-called medical p
ractitioner, came the voice in her head.

  Domination, humiliation, whatever it was called, she couldn’t resist.

  He helped her with her shorts and panties. “Very nice,” he approved at the sight of her tight little pussy. “Let’s see what’s going on, shall we?”

  Cameron planted her feet on the bed, pulling them toward her chest. He eased her legs apart, his face intent like a gynecologist.

  “There’s a lot of fluid,” he said. “And your lips are swollen.”

  He touched her with something cold and metal, some kind of instrument.

  “Can you feel that?”

  “Yes…”

  She tried not to arch her back. She barely contained the moan.

  She was so helpless, so damned needy.

  “Please move against my finger.” He pressed her clitoris. He had put on some kind of a glove. Shamelessly, she began to hump, pressing her body against his hard knuckle.

  He removed his hand, denying her impending orgasm. “Kindly clean my glove,” he said putting it to her face.

  She parted her lips, accepting the juices. She licked and slurped at the latex, shamelessly imagining it was a cock in her mouth.

  “Your slut reflexes are good,” he observed. “Do you crave orgasm?”

  “Yes,” she croaked. “Yes, Doctor.”

  “I have a final test, roll onto your stomach for me.”

  Cameron obeyed. Her ass was upturned now, completely open to his predations.

  “You will feel a little pressure,” he said.

  Oh, god, he was pushing his finger up into her ass, spreading some kind of gel, cold and slimy. “Please, what are you doing?” she moaned.

  “Sluts must be equally open anally and vaginally.”

  “I don’t…I can’t…”

  “It’s your treatment, you can’t argue.”

  Cameron moaned as he began to push the object into her. “Is that…a dildo?”

  “It’s a scientific instrument, but yes, it simulates a male penis. We find we get the best response this way.”

  For some reason she thought of the blonde slave on the kitchen floor of the club, on her hands and knees, scrubbing, accepting scraps from the hands of her masters. Did she receive this kind of ‘treatment’, too? What about Rachel? Or Veronica?

  And what about her host—what was he doing right now? Was he laughing somewhere thinking about his house guest?

  “Where…is Victor?” she said, trying to concentrate on the words she needed to say.

  “He is with Rachel.”

  Still? What would they be doing by now? Cameron fought back a wild flash of jealousy. She had no interest in Victor, with his lean body, sculpted form and wolf’s eyes. She could go her life without feeling the touch of his fingers on her superheated skin…or the feel of his hard cock inside her superheated pussy.

  Cameron balled her fists and pounded on the bed. The doctor was gradually working the dildo in. She felt like she was being split open. Her body felt so full and yet her throbbing channel was so empty.

  She was on the verge of begging the doctor for sex, his slobbering body swallowing hers as he thrust his shaft inside her, small as it might be.

  “Are you ready for a clinical climax?” he asked now.

  “Yes, Doctor, please,” Cameron whimpered.

  “Turn over,” he ordered, patting her ass.

  Cameron rolled onto her back, the dildo still inside her ass.

  The pressure radiated up her spine, to the very tips of her nipples. “Hurry,” she groaned.

  “This will not be like any orgasm you have ever had,” he said. “You must be patient.”

  He was holding a tiny instrument in his hand, a cross between a surgeon’s forceps and an eyelash curler.

  Her belly clenched in anticipation, sprinkled with fear. “Wh—what is that for?”

  “It is called a clitoral extender. You will submit to it.”

  Cameron clamped her thighs together. “I won’t let you.”

  The doctor’s face held no expression as he leaned down. Crisply, employing a freshly gloved finger he slapped her. Cameron’s head whipped to the side, her cheek instantly red with pain. He was poised to hit her again.

  “This will continue, slut, until you open your legs.”

  Cameron felt the strength drain. She did as told no further resistance.

  The doctor patted her head, an odd patronizing gesture that shamed her worse than anything, including the anal invasion. “Good girl, you’re coming along nicely.”

  Cameron’s only defense now was begging. “Please, Doctor, don’t hurt me.”

  “Oh, it will hurt a bit. As I said, this is going to be a novel experience for you. You will come as a true slut, in pain.”

  Tears erupted. Why wasn’t she just pushing him away or saying no? Why in hell was a part of her attracted to this like a moth to flame?

  “Is there any other way?” she wheedled. “Could I…could I please you with my mouth?”

  “No thank you,” said the doctor. “I am on duty, although I am sure you are quite a skilled little cocksucker.”

  He told her to hold very still for the next part.

  “And I do mean still,” he emphasized.

  Cameron didn’t dare breathe. He had a look of intense concentration on his moon face. Holding the extender in one hand, he used the other to manually part her sex lips.

  Her sex gushed in response, her aroma filled the air. Her body’s reaction only deepened the shame, the dark desire.

  “Very often we restrain the subject, but I am trusting you to be able to control yourself,” he explained.

  Cameron didn’t want to be trusted, she wanted to be taken, transported to some other universe, where all of this made sense, where a girl didn’t have to lose her closest relationship in the world on account of sexual urges she could not control, where one’s own fiancé didn’t react with pity and anger at the sight of a few red marks on one’s flesh.

  The doctor had hold of her clitoris. She felt the cool metal pincers, smooth, deviously efficient, tighter and tighter, the pressure mounting, throbbing pleasure mixed with a sharp sting, indescribable.

  “I won’t ask you to hold out,” he said. “This is your first time…”

  The words faded away as Cameron’s world exploded into a million pieces, shattering across the horizon, lifting and shaking her, invisible whips slashing at her from every direction at once, along with feathers, tickling, and hands…demanding.

  The orgasm sliced her open, razor thin. The doctor held her down at one point, his ham hand on her pelvis. Her head was thrashing, she reached for her nipples twisting them back and forth, trying to stay ahead of the plateau.

  Eventually it ended. She was limp, drenched in sweat. She felt like she had been blasted from a volcano, spewing in the form of liquid hot magma which splattered on the earth and cooled into shimmering stone, a sheet of it, smooth as ice.

  The doctor was packing up his instruments.

  “What…what time is it?” she wanted to know.

  “It’s nearly dinner time. Victor is expecting you. I believe you will find a suitable outfit in the closet.”

  “Will you be there?”

  The doctor laughed. “Oh, I have other places to be, a round of examinations at the club to be precise.”

  Cameron struggled for something else to say.

  “You should know I am going to give a report to Victor,” he said closing his medical bag with finality. “Would you like the results?”

  ‘No’ said her brain, though her mouth said yes.

  “You have an unusually high tolerance for pain combined with a very sensitive response on the sexual registry. While I am not a psychologist, I would say that if you pursued the BDSM lifestyle you would find it conducive.”

  “As a submissive or slave, you mean.”

  She had spoken the words acerbically, though he took them at face value.

  “I should think the former rather than the latte
r, but the choice would be yours,” he said.

  Cameron seized on his words. “Finally, someone who doesn’t see me licking a man’s feet and begging to live in a cage.”

  The doctor smiled. “Oh, I see you doing all that and more, but I doubt you will ever find a man to give it to you, which is why you will have to settle for being a submissive.”

  “Why wouldn’t a man give it to me?”

  “I think I will defer to Victor on that one.” The Doctor bowed. “It’s been a pleasure, Miss Blaine.”

  What was that supposed to mean?

  More confused than ever, Cameron went to explore the closet.

  The dress took her breath away. It was midnight blue, knee length with a plunging back and a scoop neck. There were matching heels. She touched the silk. It was expensive, that was for sure.

  Would it fit her?

  She was afraid it wouldn’t.

  Then again she was afraid it would.

  ***

  Rachel was dressed up like a school girl on holiday, low flat sandals, a modest green dress accentuated by green ribbons in her upswept hair. The only luxury was the emerald necklace and earrings, though even these were subtle and understated.

  Everything about her said demure, well behaved young lady.

  Victor by contrast, looked like the lord of the manor in his black tuxedo. The pair of them was there to greet Cameron as she entered the dining room.

  “You look stunning,” said Victor, taking Cameron’s hand and bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

  Cameron stole a glance at Rachel for signs of jealousy. She had her hands at her sides, her eyes shy and downcast.

  “Rachel, have you something to say?” Victor prompted her.

  “I am terribly sorry for my behavior,” said Rachel, “Will you accept my apology?”

  Cameron was too stunned to reply. Was this the same Rachel who had been hanging upside down in a leather hood in the solarium, let alone the free-wheeling little gypsy who had snuck into Cameron’s room overnight?

  “Yes,” said Cameron at last. “Of course.”

  Rachel smiled eagerly, grabbing Cameron’s arm in a gesture of pure sisterly love. “Let me show you to your seat. Victor, may I move my place so I can sit next to Cameron?”

  “Yes,” said Victor. “That would be fine.”

  Rachel chatted away as they walked. The dining room was enormous. The table was built to sit a hundred, though it was set for only three. A chandelier the size of a small mountain hung from the ceiling.