Worshippers, Part 1

This is a story about something that happened to my wife and me on All Saint's Eve a few years ago. You would probably recognize that holiday better as Halloween, and that's what we used to call it, too. After what happened to us then, we no longer use that word.

Perhaps I should start our tale many years ago, when we married. My wife, Jennie, was sixteen then, and I was nineteen. As so often happens, we petted more than we should and finally ended up having sex in my car. Not just once, but many times. As anyone could have predicted, I got her pregnant.

Since we were both from the same small town in Nebraska, it was impossible to keep such a thing a secret for very long, and it was decided by all concerned that it would be best if we married. The ceremony was conducted at night in the home of the local preacher, and as my friends were fond of saying, "It was legal now."

The baby was born about three months "premature", and I continued with my college classes as before. Jennie continued to attend high school until she got her diploma. About a year after the birth of our first child, the second was born.

After I finished my degree work, we moved to the Pacific Northwest where I had been offered a job in my field, electrical engineering. We found a nice house in a good neighborhood and settled down to our life as the typical American family.

By the time our kids were in grade school, our sex life was very ho-hum. We'd screw maybe twice a week, sometimes only once. It was never anything more than just a form or relief for either of us. I always would cum, but there were many times when my wife just went through the motions. I always put it down to her being tired from the housework and stresses of raising two active girls.

This went on for several years, until the kids were in high school. I had stopped at a truck stop on my way home from work, because I had forgotten to fill the tank on my car a few days before and the gauge was on empty. After filling the tank, I went inside to pay.

As I was leaving the store, I noticed a magazine display and thought that I'd look through it for something to read that night. I would usually buy magazines with subjects such as outdoor activities or hobby electronics, but this time thought it might be nice to look for something different.

My eyes were immediately drawn to the display of sex magazines. Never before in my life had I bought such a thing, but since that day was our 17th anniversary, I decided that I'd get one, and pull it out from under my pillow that night and give it to my wife as a joke. Since I had no idea which title to choose, I just reached out and picked one. That choice led us to where we are today.

We went out to dinner and a movie that night, as was our usual way to celebrate our wedding anniversary. Both girls were staying with a friend, at something called a "pajama party", so we had the house to ourselves when we returned home. Since it was already nearing midnight, we got ready for bed.

As soon as Jennie got under the covers, I pulled out the sack that had the magazine in it and said, "Surprise!" She smiled and made a big show of being surprised that I had given her a gift. When she reached into the bag and got the magazine, she was really surprised. We'd never before had such a thing in our house, since we wanted to raise our daughters in the "proper way".

We lay under the covers in our bed, both looking at the pages in the magazine as she leafed through it. I had seen a Playboy magazine, more than once actually, when in high school, and thought this magazine would probably be about the same. I was shocked to see the photographs and drawings, and my wife was also. However, that didn't stop her from turning the pages, and I'm sure I'd have done it for her if she had stopped.

We saw completely naked women and men with their legs spread, and some even engaged in sexual intercourse. Several of the photos showed a woman sucking a man's penis, or a man with his tongue in a woman's vagina. We had done such things here in our bed, but had no idea that there would be pictures of it in a magazine that could be bought off a newsstand.

I was becoming more and more aroused by the things we saw, and placed my hand on her breast. Her nipple was harder than I'd ever known it to be, and she sighed when I caressed it, indicating to me that she was turned on also.

As she reached a point about 2/3 of the way through the magazine, she came to a section called "S&M". When she turned to the first page of that section, we saw several small drawings that simply stunned me, and as she told me later, did the same to her.

The drawings showed both men and women being "punished", as the captions said. Nearly all of them showed either a man or a woman tied to a post, a table, or something else. We could see that various types of clamps, cords, ropes, chains, etc. had been attached to their bodies, usually on the man's nipples, cock, or balls, and the woman's nipples, breasts, or cunt lips. Several of the "victims" were being whipped with an assortment of instruments, again on their sex organs.

My wife's breathing became ragged, and I'm sure mine did too. My throat was so tight that I doubt I could have spoken anything more than a grunt. My cock was harder than it had ever been in my whole life, and it was demanding to be stroked. When I placed my hand inside my wife's nightie and panties, and lowered it to her crotch, I found it literally swimming in her juices.

I was looking at a drawing showing a naked man standing with his back to a post. A wide belt had been fastened around his midsection and the post, holding him securely in place. His wrists were handcuffed behind the post. The part that held my attention was his crotch.

His penis was massive in size, easily over 12" long, and it was hard as a rock. What simply riveted my attention was the head of the thing. A needle had been inserted completely through it from side to side, and another from top to bottom. They looked to be four or five inches long, and the points were protruding at least one inch.

There was a woman standing beside the man, also naked. She was using a riding crop in her right hand to whip his monstrously swollen testicles, while her left hand was buried in her cunt. It took me several seconds to realize that the man was holding his legs spread all on his own, and that they had not been tied apart. I think it was that single thing that made the drawing more exciting than ever. Just the thought that a man would hold his legs apart so that his balls could be whipped made me hotter and hotter.

I didn't know it at the time, but as my wife told me later, the drawing she was looking at showed a woman hanging by her wrists from an overhead beam. Clamps and weights had been fastened to her nipples, stretching her breasts far below their usual position. The woman was holding her legs widespread, and a man was kneeling between them. He had fastened clamps and weights to her cunt lips, and was holding a candle so that the flame was burning her pussy.

I don't remember just when the magazine was put aside, but suddenly our pajamas and underwear were off, I was on my back, and my wife was on top of me in reversed position. She took my cock into her mouth, something she did only rarely. I tongued and sucked her flowing pussy, eager to swallow every last drop of her juice. I doubt that we ate each other for more than a few seconds before my cock started spurting and she ground her cunt into my face and started moaning and groaning.

She had never in her life allowed me to cum in her mouth, but now she seemed eager to swallow everything I gave her. Even when my spasms had subsided she kept licking and sucking, and I quickly became aroused again. I'm sure my cock never became even one bit less hard before I could feel my orgasm building again.

My wife had never before, to my knowledge anyway, had more than one orgasm when we were having sex. This time, in just a few minutes after her first one, she again began to grind her pussy against my mouth and tongue, and to moan and pant. Her second climax seemed to be just as powerful as the first, and it seemed to me that it lasted longer.

She kept sucking me for a little while, but when she cooled down, stopped doing that and began to masturbate me. She gripped my penis with every bit of her strength and it seemed that she was trying to pull it off. I visualized the image of the man being whipped by his wife, and the two needles she had pushed through the head of his cock, and felt the semen began to rise through the shaft, then burst forth from the head. My body jerked with the force of cumming, and I remember crying out, but don't know what I said, if anything.

As our passions subsided, she rolled off and then turned around to lie beside me. I think we were both too embarrassed by what had happened to want to be the first to say anything, so we hugged and kissed as usual following sex.

After several minutes, I finally got up the courage to say, "Did you like your anniversary present?" She hesitated a few seconds, then replied, "It was pretty nice. I think you must have liked it even better than I did, though. You haven't been that hot in a long time."

I probably said something about her being just as hot, and we both finally admitted that it was the most turned on we'd been in many years. Even though I had cum twice in the space of just a few minutes, the image of the naked man tied to the post was still foremost in my brain. My penis was becoming painfully erect, and seemed to be sending aches to my entire midsection.

Since we were still hugging, my wife noticed immediately that I was becoming aroused again. She said, "Wow! That must be the best magazine ever. What was in there that got you so turned on?"

I was embarrassed to tell her what I was fantasizing about, so to cover it I put my hands on her nipples, which were once again erect. "It looks like I'm not the only one who's hot, sweetie. Why don't you tell me what got you so turned on?"

She must have been just as embarrassed about the situation as I was, because she said, "You first." I responded, "No, ladies first." After a lot of back and forth, she finally admitted that some of the drawings in the last section had made her pretty hot. I confessed that they had done the same to me, and asked her which one was the best for her.

She absolutely refused to tell me until I had told her my favorite first. I was by now completely aroused again, and was thrusting my hips against her body. Her being equally aroused was evident by the thrusting of her hips to meet mine. Finally my cock overcame my reticence, and I told her that I'd point to the one I liked if she'd do the same.

We both rolled to our backs on the bed, and she got the magazine off the floor where it had fallen when we were frantically coupling. She opened it to the "S&M" section, and then turned to the page of drawings.

I thought about pointing to one of the more mild "punishments" illustrated there, but quickly decided that I'd be honest about it and hoped she'd do the same. My finger reached out and rested on the drawing that I couldn't get out of my mind. She looked at it, then her finger went to the one of the woman being burned with the candle.

As we once again looked at the pictures, our arousal reached a fever pitch. I heard her say, "Fuck me! Hurry! Do it hard!", and then she grabbed my shoulder and pulled me atop her. Her pussy was so wet and slick by then that my cock slipped inside her with no guiding. I began to thrust into her with all the force I could muster, and could feel her hands on my ass pulling me as deep as possible.

She began to pant for breath, and I could hear her whisper over and over, "Hurt it! Hurt it! Hurt it!". I knew she was imagining that the candle was being held to her pussy, and it was driving her to a peak of frenzy. I was quickly approaching the same peak as I imagined myself tied to a post and her pushing needles into the head of my cock.

I really don't know if she climaxed or not, but she said she did at the same time as my own. What I remember is that as my spasms began, the pain shot through my cock, balls, and abdomen as they reacted to this unusual amount of overwork they had been subjected to. When we finally separated, I wanted more than anything to just curl in a fetal position and lie as still as possible.

My wife was obviously not in any sort of pain, as I was. She turned to me and pulled me close and thanked me over and over for giving her "the best anniversary present ever". She finally drifted off to sleep, and I wished I could join her, but the aching in my crotch kept me awake for what seemed like hours.

When I awakened the next morning, I was alone in the bed. The aches and pains of the night before were gone, and I realized that I actually felt more rested that I could ever recall. As I glanced at the alarm clock beside the bed, I was glad it was Saturday, since the time was 11:00 and it was broad daylight outside. I hadn't slept that late since a teenager, and hadn't awakened feeling so rested and content in a long time.

I visited the bathroom and then got dressed. As I walked downstairs, I could hear my wife in the kitchen, so went there first. She saw me as I came in, and blushed. That was the first time I'd seen her do that in many years, and I asked her what had she been thinking of that caused that reaction. She tried to brush me off by saying, "Oh, nothing." When she tried to change the subject by asking if I wanted something to eat, I replied, "I'd like some more of that hot juice you fed me last night. How about you?"

She was startled, since I'd never before talked in that manner. I wouldn't have done so then, except that I knew our daughters wouldn't be coming home until the next day, and we had the house to ourselves. As I had dressed earlier, I'd made up my mind that something important had happened last night, and I was bound and determined that we wouldn't just forget about it. Again I referred to what we'd done a few hours earlier, saying, "I think you liked it too, didn't you?"

She could obviously see that I wasn't going to just sweep last night under the rug, and she came to me and hugged me. "It was fantastic. I don't know when I've been that hot. It's too bad you didn't bring me a present like that years ago."

I said that we should save the magazine for the next time the girls were gone, and she said she'd already put it in a safe place. Just taking about what had happened caused my cock to stiffen, and as she felt it she ground her crotch against mine and smiled, saying, "Let's wait until tonight. Surely you're sore from all that cumming. I'm not sore, but it'll be better for both of us if we let it build for awhile. Okay, sweetie?"

I agreed that she was probably right, and poured myself a cup of coffee and sat at the table to drink it. She got a cup for herself and joined me, and we sat there drinking with one hand and holding hands with the other, just like two high-school lovebirds. After we finished the drinks, she got up to do some housework and I went out to mow the lawn.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. It seemed as if all I could think about was the drawing of the man in the magazine. Every time I mowed around a tree in the yard, I imagined myself tied naked to it, with my wife pushing needles through the head of my cock. She would then order me to spread my legs, and when I'd done so she'd whip my balls until they swelled up as big as grapefruit.

We went out for dinner again, since it was obvious that Jennie was as distracted as I was, and certainly didn't want to be bothered with cooking a meal. We returned home about 9:00, and both of us immediately started preparing for bed. It simply never occurred to us to do anything that would delay our return to the "scene of the crime", where we had found so much erotic release the night before.

As I undressed, Jennie peeled back the covers and top sheet, saying that she didn't want the bed to get as torn to pieces as it had been last night. I was already hard as a rock when I lay down on the bed on my back, and my cock was jerking back and forth. There was already a drop of pre-cum forming at the tip of the head, and judging from the tingling in it, it wouldn't take much stimulation to make it spurt again.

Jennie removed all her clothing slowly, with the lamp on the table still switched on. She had never before done that in a sexual situation. We had seen each other in the nude, of course, but it had always been when dressing or bathing. The way she was now doing a "strip tease" for me was entirely new, and extremely erotic.

When she had finally removed her last piece of clothing, she climbed on to the bed and crouched there on her knees with her crotch spread slightly. I could see that her upper thighs were damp with her pussy juices, and the scent was driving me wild. She asked, "Shall we look at my present again?"

When I finally managed to make my throat work again, I croaked, "Yes". She then got off the bed and reached around the headboard. It was the type that was about a foot deep, having built-in shelves to hold a reading lamp, a clock radio, books, etc. Because of the arrangement of the shelves, there were some places in the back of the headboard that were like "secret compartments", but served more as dust catchers. She had hidden the magazine in one of those places when she got out of bed that morning.

Holding the magazine in her hands, she climbed back on the bed and again remained on her knees. Rather than lying down and opening the thing, she began to slowly caress her breasts with it, finally moving it lower and lower on her body. As she rubbed it over herself, she whispered various obscene things to me, such as, "I'll bet you can't wait to look at that man having needles pushed through the head of his cock. Just think how good it would feel to have your balls whipped until they swell to the size of baseballs. I can't wait to see the woman hanging by her wrists, with weights on her tits stretching them down to her knees. Now the man is lighting the candle and getting ready to roast her cunt."

Somehow her describing the drawings to me was more electrifying that actually looking at them. My dick was jumping wildly around, and as we both looked at it the pre-cum began to ooze from the slit. Jennie dropped the magazine and swung one leg over my head. She lowered her wet pussy to my tongue at the same time as she took my cock into her mouth.

This time, instead of deep-throating me, she took only the head past her lips. I could feel her teeth closing just behind the glans, and they seemed as sharp as knives. I sucked one of her labia into my mouth, then took it in my teeth. She gasped and then raised her crotch, stretching her pussy lip. I knew she was fantasizing about the woman in the drawing, and thinking that it was her cunt lips that had been clamped and stretched.

She closed her teeth even more on the shaft of my dick, and that drove me over the edge. The cum began to boil from my nuts, and burned like lava as it passed through the shaft. I groaned and began to buck my hips. Suddenly her crotch descended to my mouth again, and she began to grind it against my face. As she climaxed she opened her mouth again and took as much of my cock as possible within it. Again she swallowed my entire load as I licked and sucked her precious juices.

She supported her weight on her arms for a couple of minutes as we tried to recover our senses. Finally she climbed off me and moved up to kiss and hug. As we were kissing, she used her tongue to force some of my cum into my mouth, and I greedily swallowed it. After a couple of minutes, we both had cooled off to the point that we could once again speak.

She said, "I guess we don't even have to open the thing to get turned on. Did you like what I did with it?" I told her that it was simply the most sexy thing I'd ever seen, and that I couldn't believe she'd done it.

She hugged me closer and said, "I've been thinking about that magazine all day. I actually had a climax when I was washing some dishes this afternoon, just by thinking about that drawing and squeezing my legs together. How about you?"

I told her that I had been thinking about my special drawing all day also, but that I hadn't shot my load in my pants. She asked me to tell her what I was thinking about, and since all our barriers seemed to be down, I did. "Every time I walked by a tree out in the yard, I imagined being tied naked to it. You were there pushing needles through the head of my cock, then making me spread my legs so you could whip my balls. I think I've had a hard-on all day. What were you thinking about that got you so turned on?"

She whispered into my ear as her hand cupped my balls, "I was thinking about one of the trees too. You know the one right outside the kitchen window, where you hung the rope swing on the limb?" I nodded. "When I was standing at the sink, I began to imagine that I was hanging naked from the limb. You had fastened clamps to my nipples and hung big weights from them. Then you made me hold my legs apart so you could put clamps and weights on my cunt lips. As I imagined you lighting the candle, I climaxed."

I was amazed at the things we were telling each other. Never, ever before had we been able to talk so openly about sexual things. I suppose most of our reticence was due to our small-town upbringing in Nebraska, and it was just natural that we would find it hard to talk about such things. Two days ago, my wife would not have used a word such as "cunt", and now she was describing to me how she wanted clamps and weights attached to it.

We finally drifted off to sleep, still wrapped in each other's arms. I was awakened from a sound sleep by the feel of hands on my cock and balls. The clock was reading 2:30 a.m., and I wasn't sure for a moment what was happening. As I came more awake, and Jennie realized it, she began to whisper in my ear again.

"The girls will be home in a few hours, and we'll have to be quiet during sex again. How about another noisy fuck before they get here? I was having a dream about 'you know what', and I need to cum again." As my dick began to harden once again, she continued to whisper, "I want to see you tied naked to a tree in the yard, with your cock sticking out farther than ever before. I want to watch that pretty young blonde from down the street walk toward you holding two needles in one hand and a riding crop in the other. I want to watch her push one of the needles clear through the head of your dick, and listen to you screaming in pain. I want to hear you scream again when she pushes the second one through you. Then I want to hear her order you to spread your legs, and after you do, to see her whipping your balls time after time, until they swell up to the size of basketballs."

By the time she had finished whispering that to me, I was in a frenzy to climb on her and fuck her as hard as I could. Instead of letting me do that, she said, "Now you tell me what you want to watch."

I cleared my throat several times before the words would come. Finally, I said, "I want the man across the street to come over here and walk in the house when I'm at work. I want him to order you to strip, and then lead you to the tree by the kitchen window. He'll make you stand on a chair under the limb, and then tie your wrists with the swing rope."

"After your wrists are tied, he'll pull out the chair and leave you swinging in the air. You'll see him reach in his pocket and bring out a pair of nipple clamps, and then screw them tightly to your tits. He'll get two huge weights out of his pocket and hang them from the clamps, stretching your boobs clear to your cunt. He'll order you to spread your legs so he can screw more clamps to your cunt lips, and then attach even heavier weights to them."

"Finally, he'll pull a monstrous candle out of his pocket and light it. When the flame burns steadily, he'll make you beg him to hold it between your legs and roast your pussy."

Before I got even halfway through my fantasy story, she was gasping for breath and moaning low in her throat. As soon as I said "roast your pussy", she said, "Oh, God, yes! Fuck me now! Hurry! Stick your candle up my cunt now! Please, please shove it in me while it's still burning!"

I rolled on top of her and my cock found its familiar home. She continued talking to me, saying, "It's so hot! I can feel the flame in my cunt. Oh God, you're cooking my cunt!" Suddenly she bucked like a rodeo horse and cried out. Her fingernails raked my back, and that put me over the edge. My balls began to empty what little cum they had made in the past few hours, and even after that had been drained, my cock continued to spasm.

Finally we began to come down from our peak of arousal, and we lay there hugging and kissing and making the little noises that couples make to let one another know they're happy and tired at the same time. In a very short time, we drifted off to sleep. I'm guessing that Jennie didn't have that dream again, because she didn't "molest" me any more that night.

It was difficult for us to revert to our "normal" routine regarding sex when our daughters returned later that day. They must have immediately noticed a change in both us, because after seeing us hugging and touching much more than usual during the day, then commented about us acting like a pair of lovebirds. One of them asked what we'd done for our anniversary, and then smiled knowingly at her sister when Jennie said, "Oh, not much."

It would have been difficult for anybody to fail to notice the change in us. We talked to each other in a different, more loving way. We never missed the opportunity to touch, hug, or kiss. There definitely was a new relationship, and it was one that was more open, and more trusting, than ever before. We now knew the other's deepest secrets, and that caused us to become more close than we'd ever been.

Over the next few months, we began to look forward to the times both our daughters would be gone overnight, or even be out on a date until their weekend curfew time of midnight. Jennie and I always spent those nights in bed, looking at the magazine and fantasizing. Even on the nights when we weren't "home alone", we would sneak peeks at the thing and do our best to have sex without yelling loud enough to disturb anyone sleeping in the next room.

Our sex lives had never been better, but even so there seemed to be a missing dimension. I wanted Jennie to do things to me, but she had no interest in that. She wanted me to do things to her, but I was equally uninterested. We were in the unfortunate situation of both being masochists, and had no sadist to turn to.

In the back pages of the magazine was a section called "Classifieds", which was a listing of advertisements from people who were looking for sex, or trying to sell things that could be used in sexual situations. After we had "used up" all the photos, drawings, and stories, we began to read these advertisements to one another, then create stories based upon them. If a woman advertised herself as a dominatrix, we would try to imagine what she would do to us if we hired her services. If someone were seeking to be disciplined, we'd try to guess just what sort of thing he or she wanted.

The advertisements were grouped by states, and we first read the ones for our location. Since we live less than 15 miles from the largest city in the Pacific Northwest, most of the ads were inserted by people from our area. We were especially interested in the number of women and men who offered to "discipline" people who would respond to the ads, and began to seriously consider writing to one of them to seek information.

By the time six months had gone by, I had visited the truck stop two more times to get new copies of "our" magazine. Each one brought new delights to our bed, and we built up a storehouse of fantasies that brought us to new heights of arousal and satisfaction. We always ended up in the Classified section, and noticed that one particular advertisement for "discipline and pain" appeared in every issue. We spent many hours telling one another stories about what "Mistress Catherine" would do to us in her "torture chamber", if we just had the nerve to make the arrangements for a visit.

As anyone could predict, we finally did write to the box number in the ad, and, as per the instructions, included a description of why we were seeking the Mistress' services and a telephone number where we could be reached. We had a cellular phone that was rarely used, and thought it would be safe enough to use its number, since we could always just throw away the thing if we began receiving unwanted calls.

About a week after our letter had been mailed, the phone rang during the day when I was at work. Jennie answered it, being pretty sure that the call was being made in response to our letter, since no one else had that number. She said that the caller was a sultry-voiced young woman, who introduced herself as Mistress Catherine. The woman said that she was intrigued by our letter, and had never before been contacted by a married couple who were both masochists. She thought it would be interesting to "discipline" both of us at the same time, and said that she usually charged $250 for a two-hour session, per person. However, since she was anxious to experiment with the novel situation, she'd charge only $250 for the both of us.

Since we had discussed our response if someone contacted us, Jennie accepted on the spot. The two made arrangements for us to arrive at the Mistress' address on a Friday night about two weeks later. Jennie said that she tried to find out what the woman would do to us, but she wouldn't give any details, saying it would be more fun for us to just use our imaginations. We certainly did just that every chance we got during the intervening days.

We told the girls that we were going to spend the night in the city, and then made reservations in a hotel there. We arrived at Mistress Catherine's address at the appointed day and time. It was a house in a respectable residential neighborhood, and looked like the place where any typical married couple would live. We rang the doorbell and waited a few seconds. The door was opened by a woman who was wearing a long gown, and who certainly didn't appear to be the type of person who would get off on hurting people.

She asked our names, and after we had told her, she commented that we were right on time and to please come in. I had brought our payment in cash, and handed it to her when she asked for it. She then led us to a large room in the back of the house that was probably originally the family room or recreation room, but had since been converted to her "dungeon". The carpet was a bright red in color, and there was dark paneling on the walls. The lighting was dim, and all-in-all the effect was ominous and foreboding.

As soon as we entered the room, Mistress Catherine stepped out of her slippers and removed the gown she was wearing, revealing a one-piece garment that looked to be made of thin black leather. It exposed almost half of her breasts, and certainly did a lot to enhance them. It was very high-cut at her upper thighs, and showed us that her pubic hair had been shaved. It was a very effective outfit, made even more so when she took a black-leather whip from a display rack on the wall and held it in her right hand.

She ordered us to undress and hang our clothes on a rack beside the door. We hurried to comply, and were soon both nude. The strangeness of the situation kept me from becoming aroused at that time, and when I glanced at my wife's nipples, I could tell that she felt the same.

The Mistress then ordered us to get on our knees and bow our heads to her. As soon as she was satisfied with our obedience, she told us to lie flat on our stomachs, after which she walked up to us and ordered us to "worship" her bare feet. Neither my wife nor I had any sort of fetish about feet, but we did our best to kiss and lick her feet, and must have done so in a satisfactory manner, since she soon told us to get up on our hands and knees.

We were then given a variety of orders, such as "bark like dogs", "sniff each other's asses", "roll over and play dead", and so on and so forth. None of this was the least bit erotic to me, and my penis was still just as soft as ever. Both of us were trying hard to get into the scene, but it just didn't work for us.

The session went on in this manner until our two hours were up. Mistress Catherine then told us to get dressed, after which she walked us to the front door. She gave us her phone number and said that she would like to "take us a little further" next time, and to please call to make an appointment. We said our good-byes and left.

As we drove to our hotel, we discussed what had happened and how it had not been arousing to either of us. Apparently we weren't turned on by the B&D scene, and were disappointed by nearly everything that had happened. I hadn't expected to have needles pushed through my cock head and my balls whipped on the first visit, but thought that there were lots more interesting things that the woman could have done. My wife agreed, saying that she hadn't been the least bit turned on during the entire session.

We decided that it would be better to just rely upon our own sex play in bed, and that's what we did for several months. When our older daughter graduated from high school, she immediately enrolled in the University in the nearby large city. She chose to live in an on-campus dormitory, which meant that only one of the girls was now at home on a regular basis. That seemed to provide lots more opportunities for us to have "noisy" sex, and we never missed a chance to do so. Jennie was now 35 years of age, and seemed to be reaching a new sexual peak with each passing day. I would be 39 on my next birthday, and even though an "old fart" in the eyes of many, was able to cum twice during a one-hour period while making love.

We continued to use the magazines I bought at the truck stop as a focus of our lovemaking, and although we derived lots of enjoyment from them, still knew there was "something missing" from our sex lives.

Our younger daughter had always been the brighter of the two, and she graduated from high school early due to an accelerated program. She enrolled at the same University as her sister during what would have been the last half of her senior year in high school, and also elected to live in a dormitory there. Jennie and I were now alone in the house, and we began to have sex whenever the mood struck us, and wherever it struck us. Once again, she was as noisy as she wanted to be when we fucked, and sometimes I wondered if the neighbors overheard her cries of passion.

About two weeks after our daughter moved away to attend college, there was a package setting on the bed one night when we went to the bedroom. I looked at Jennie for an explanation, and she just smiled slyly, saying, "It's a present for both of us. We'll open it after we get undressed." We hurried to get our clothes off, and I tore the wrapping off the package as she watched excitedly.

When I finally got the box open, I saw that there were several smaller boxes within. I told her that I'd start with the smallest first, and then work my way up to the largest. As I opened the first box, two things that looked like some of Jennie's earrings fell out. I picked up one of them and saw that it had a small wire loop fastened to a threaded part, and that there was a small knob on the end of that part. I looked at her questioningly, and she explained, "Those are nipple clamps for you, my love. Hurry and open the next one."

The second box yielded the same style of clamp, but with a larger loop. I guessed, "Are these for your titties, sweetie?" She nodded and smiled broadly. "Yes, and there's lots more stuff in the package. I ordered some of the 'marital aids' from the last magazine you brought home."

We had talked about doing that several times, but hadn't ever placed the order. Apparently Jennie got tired of waiting for me to make up my mind and decided to act on her own. I pulled her to me and kissed her. When we broke the kiss, I said, "I'm glad you did it, lover. Thank you for the present. Now let's see what else your evil little mind thought we'd need."

The third box was not all that large, but it was pretty heavy. When I opened it, I wasn't surprised to see that it contained half a dozen lead weights. There were numbers stamped on them ranging from "2" to "5", and I assumed that was their weight in pounds.

The fourth box contained two clamps even larger than the nipple clamps I'd already seen. I puzzled over them for a few moments before asking, "For your lips, right?" She nodded her head and said, "Yes. I can't wait for you to put them on me. Hurry and open the next one."

I opened the lid on the fifth box and emptied its contents on the bed. It seemed to be a leather strap of some sort, and had two short lengths of chain attached to it. The label on the box described it as a "parachute", but that didn't shed any light on its use and purpose. Finally Jennie took pity on me and said, "It'll go around your balls, and weights will be attached to the chains. Apparently it looks like a parachute to some folks and that's how it got its name."

The last box was the largest of all, and it held a black leather whip. The label on the box called it a "flogger", and it certainly seemed to be suited to that role. I swished it through the air a few times, and the thongs made a satisfying sound.

We played with the "toys" during our lovemaking over the next few months, but again the problem was that neither of us enjoyed hurting the other. We both wanted to feel the pain, not give it, and no matter how hard we tried to get into the mindset of a sadist, just couldn't achieve it.

I would fasten the clamps and weights on Jennie's nipples and cunt lips, and order her to walk around the room and jump in place. She'd do the same after attaching the parachute to my balls. We used the flogger on each other's butts, tits, and sex organs. It was okay for whichever one of us was feeling the attentions, but the person providing the attentions was simply not all that turned on, and that mood was communicated to the other. Again, we knew there was something missing.

The magazine that was to change our lives even more was purchased in the late summer. We worked our way through the photos, drawing, and stories as usual, ending up with the advertisements by the first part of September. Again, we read the ones for our state and area first, and immediately saw a new one.

It read: "Wanted: Submissive couple (M/F), preferably married, to appear as guests of honor at Halloween ceremony. Must be confirmed masochists. Write to Box XX, City, State, with telephone number before October 1. You will be contacted."

As soon as we read that, we began to play our usual game of fantasizing about what would be done to us if we were the "guests of honor" at the ceremony. Jennie thought that the part about "confirmed masochists" meant that real torture would be used, and that made it even more exciting. She finally convinced me that we should write, again using the number of the unused cellular telephone. I agreed that no harm could come of it, and we composed a simple response and mailed it the next day.

This time, it was two weeks before the telephone rang, and the call came during the evening after we had gone to bed. We had developed the habit of keeping the portable phone beside us at all times, just in case we received a response to our letter.

Unlike the first time, this caller was a very cultured-sounding man, and he introduced himself as "The Master". He asked our first names only, and I told him. He then asked for details of our favorite sexual fantasies, and after an initial reluctance, I decided that I may as well be honest about it, and told him mine.

When I had finished explaining my favorite fantasy, he asked that Jennie tell him hers. She was pretty reluctant to relate such an intimate thing to a stranger, but since I had told her that it would be virtually impossible for anyone to trace the number we'd given, she finally gave in and began talking. As she began describing the details of her fantasy, she became more and more aroused by the thought that she was telling some man what she would like to have done to her body. Since we were both naked, I could see her nipples become very hard, and when I slipped my hand between her legs, could feel how wet her pussy was.

When her story ended, the man asked to speak to me again. He said that he wanted to interview us in person, and asked me to write down the directions for making contact with him. I always kept a writing pad on the nightstand beside the bed, and told him to go ahead.

He asked me first for a description of the vehicle we would be using, and then stated that we should drive to a parking lot at a specified address in the city. We were instructed to arrive there no later than 6:45 in the evening of the upcoming Saturday, and to park in space number 38. We were to get out of the car and stand behind it, and when we saw a dark-blue limousine pull up beside us, to get in the door that would open. I was further told that we should dress for a semi-formal dinner. His final instruction was that all our pubic hair should be shaved.

I wrote down the instructions and we ended the call in the usual manner. We were both aroused by the call, and all that it implied, and had two very noisy orgasms each during our lovemaking. As we lay in each other's arms talking, we discussed whether or not to actually follow the instructions I'd been given, or to just put the phone in the trash and go on with our mostly-satisfying sex lives.

We didn't arrive at any sort of resolution that night, or indeed for the next few days. I never did know just exactly when it was that we finally accepted that we would keep the appointment. I believe it was the fact that we had been invited to a dinner engagement, and not to an S&M session, that in the end swayed our decision. At any rate, the next Saturday evening found us sitting in our car in space 38 in the designated parking lot.

When my wristwatch indicated that it was 6:45, we looked at one another, took deep breaths, and got out of the car. We walked to the back of it, then stood hand-in-hand waiting to be picked up. At that moment, we saw a dark-blue limousine drive through the gate of the parking lot, and we realized that we were now committed.

The limo stopped with its rear door beside us. The windows were darkened, so that we could not see inside. The door opened silently, and what I could see of the interior shouted "money". I'd never before been inside such a vehicle, and was in awe of the brushed leather seats and the plush carpeting. I knew it was too late to back out now, and so held Jennie's hand as she entered the car.

As soon as we were both seated, the door closed softly behind us. Our seat was facing forward, in the normal manner. About three feet in front of us was another seat, this one facing backwards. A well-dressed man several years older than I was sitting there, and he held out his hand to Jennie first, then to me, introducing himself as "The Master" when we shook hands.

After the introductions, he spoke into a microphone, saying, "Drive on". I could feel the car begin to move, but there was simply no sound. The windows were as dark looking out as they were looking in, and I was glad that neither of us was claustrophobic.

As the car moved off, the man said that he needed to make sure that we were not members of any police organization, or that we were not carrying any sort of broadcasting or recording equipment. He said that his organization had to take measures to protect its privacy, and hoped that we would be understanding of that. We assured him that we were not police officers, and didn't have any "bugs" hidden in our clothing.

He thanked us for the assurance, but said that he must be sure, and begged our indulgence. He then looked at my wife, who was seated immediately in front of him, and asked, "Jennie, are you wearing panties?" She was embarrassed by the question from this man who was a stranger to her, and it took her a few moments to nod her head. He then instructed her, "Please pull your dress above your waist, then remove your panties. I want you to then place your feet on my seat with one on either side of me."

Jennie was hesitant to do as she had been ordered, and looked to me with a question in her eyes. I nodded at her, saying, "I think we're committed to this, and we have to do as he says." She nodded her head in agreement, and lifted slightly so that her dinner dress could be pulled above her waist. She then pulled down her panties and took them off, handing them to me. The wet spot in the crotch told me all I needed to know about the excitement she was feeling from this situation.

As soon as her panties were in my hand, she lifted her feet and placed them on either side of our host, a position that required her to slide forward on our seat, exposing her pussy to the full view of The Master. I could smell the scent of her pussy and knew she was becoming more turned on every second.

He then ordered her to spread her pussy with her fingers, and rub one finger along the slit. When she had done that, he told her to hold it out to me so that I could lick it clean.

I have to admit that what my wife was doing was arousing me also, and I didn't hesitate to take her finger into my mouth and suck it. I was actually hoping that he'd tell her to continue feeding me, but he seemed to be satisfied with her performance and told her she could put her panties on again. It seemed to me that she was disappointed also, but she took the underwear from me and, after placing her feet once more on the floor, slid them on.

The Master then turned to me and said, "Now I'm afraid that I must ask for a similar demonstration from you. You see, no police officer could do the things I require from you, since that would be entrapment. That's why I ask such things." I said that his caution was understandable, and asked what he wanted me to do.

"I need you to pull down your trousers and undershorts, then achieve erection. Again, the police could not do that, so it serves as a potent demonstration." He then looked at me and waited for my response.

I didn't hesitate, but simply unfastened my trousers and pulled them down, followed in short order by my shorts. My cock was already semi-erect from the demonstration Jennie had put on, and I needed to fondle it but a short time in order for it to stand at full staff. He thanked me for my compliance, then said that I could get dressed again.

He then reached into a compartment in the door beside him and brought out a small instrument about the size of a casette tape player. He asked Jennie to lean toward him, and then began to hold the thing close to her and move it around, all the while looking at a dial. I knew that it was a scanner that could detect the presence of electronic equipment that may have been hidden on our bodies, and explained that to my wife.

As soon as he had completed his scan of Jennie, he repeated it on me, then apologized for his suspicions and said he hoped we could understand the need for caution. We both nodded to show that we understood.

Our host then explained that we were driving to his home, where his wife would join us for dinner. He continued to make small talk throughout the trip, displaying to us that he was well-read, and that he was an interesting conversationalist. It was difficult to reconcile our purpose in being here with the news topics that we were discussing.

I felt the car come to a full stop and remain so for a few seconds, and then the door beside The Master opened. His driver was standing there holding the door, and we got out of the vehicle. I realized that we were in a large residential garage, and that the overhead door had closed behind us. There was simply no clue as to where we were in the city, and given the length of time we had been in the car, we could have been even farther out of the city limits than our own home.

Our host led us to a door close to the car, and held it open while we walked through. We entered what was obviously a private home, although its size and furnishings were far beyond anything we had ever seen in any home of our acquaintance. We were escorted down a wide hallway and then into another room, which proved to be a study. There was a woman seated in an overstuffed chair, and when she saw us enter she arose and stood waiting for The Master to introduce us.

He introduced us by first name only, and referred to the woman as his wife, introducing her as The Mistress. We shook hands with her, and Jennie made some comments about the decor. Pretty much what any women would talk about in that situation, making it hard to remember that we were here in response to an advertisement that implied we were to be sexually tortured.

The Mistress told us that dinner was ready to be served, and then escorted us to an adjoining room where there was a large table already set with beautiful linen and expensive-looking dinnerware. The Master first seated his wife at the foot of the table, and then Jennie in the center of one side. He indicated that I should sit immediately across from her, and when I had done so, he took the chair at the head.

The meal was served by two women wearing French maid uniforms, and overseen by a formally-dressed man who spent most of the time standing by the door. I had seen such things in movies, but never thought that a boy from a small town in Nebraska would ever move in such circles.

The dinner was excellent, and we engaged in small talk with our host and hostess as we ate. Neither Jennie nor I had ever been wine drinkers, but we did manage to drink a couple of servings just to be sociable. When the meal was finished, we returned to the study for after-dinner drinks and conversation.

Another servant brought us mixed drinks in frosted glasses, and we sipped them as we sat facing one another on two couches. The Master finally broached the subject of the advertisement by saying, "I'm sure you're both very curious as to why we advertised for a submissive couple to be guests of honor at an All Saints Eve ceremony. I'll try to make the situation more clear for you."

"First, my wife and I are the leaders of a group of people who gather in worship of our Lord, the Fallen Angel. You may know him by the name of Lucifer. For centuries people like us have been called "devil worshippers", and every evil thing that commoners can imagine has been attributed to us. That misconception is far from the truth. We merely seek to gather in religious observance, as do all the so-called 'Christian' churches."

"Second, for us the most holy night of the year is All Saints Eve, what you probably call Halloween. It is at that time that our Lord comes near to the Earth, and is best able to hear our prayers."

"Now as to why you are here: Our Lord is most attracted by two things that human beings can offer him. The first is a high level of sexual arousal, and the second is pain and suffering. If the two can be combined, then the attraction is much greater. I assume that will help you to understand the nature of the ceremony where we would like you to be guests of honor."

"Lucifer requires that those who would suffer for him do so willingly. It would certainly be easy enough to simply kidnap some derelict off the streets and torture him, but that would contain neither of the elements our Lord requires, those being sexual arousal and willingness. Our advertisement was quite clear in stating that only confirmed masochists need respond, and I think you now see the reasoning behind that requirement."

"Based on what I've told you so far, do you still wish to be the guests of honor at the ceremony?" He stopped speaking and looked closely at us. Jennie and I glanced at one another, and then she asked, "Can you tell us what will be done to us then?"

The Master replied, "Only in general terms. It has been my experience that the sexual arousal a masochist feels is heightened by anticipation and fantasy. Therefore, I have found it best to say only that you will be tortured in a manner that will increase your arousal, and that will make you give voice to your agony. Your cries will be carried to our Lord, and, if sufficient, will cause him to hear our prayers."

I asked, "What will be our physical condition following the ceremony?"

Again he replied, "Excellent question. It shows that you have enough intelligence to think ahead, and that only confirms our choice of you two as being the best. It is well known that sexual awareness and arousal increase with intelligence."

"To answer your question, I can only say that you will require minimal medical treatment following the ceremony. It is not our intent to maim or permanently harm you in any way. One of our members is a respected physician, and he will take care of any needs you have in that matter."

Again Jennie and I looked at one another, and then we both nodded our heads. She said, "We would be pleased to serve as guests of honor at the ceremony."

Our host said, "Excellent! I knew from the first that you would be our guests." He paused, then said, "There is one final thing that needs to be done to prepare you. Have either of you ever been hypnotized?"

I thought that an odd question, but shook my head to indicate my answer. Jennie duplicated my movement.

He then opened a drawer in the coffee table setting between the two couches and brought out a device that looked like an old-time record player, although it was only one-half the size of such a machine. In place of a vinyl record, there was a disk that had a white background and a black spiral. When he pressed a switch on the machine, the disk began to spin slowly and the spiral drew my eyes from the edge of the thing to its center.

He told us to concentrate on the disk, and continued to speak in a low voice. I simply have no recollection of what he was saying then, but I do remember a general feeling of contentment and peace. A few minutes later, or hours for all I know, his words became clear to me, and he said that it was certainly warm in the room. Jennie and I both agreed with him, and when he suggested that we remove our clothing in order to be cooler, it seemed to be a reasonable suggestion.

I remember undressing myself, and could see that Jennie was doing the same. He then suggested that we had beautiful bodies and we should be glad of every opportunity to enjoy them. I think he said something about wanting to see us arouse each other, and then we began kissing and caressing. Jennie's hand was on my penis and it was as engorged as possible. My hand was buried in her crotch, and I remember it being covered with her juices.

The Master then told me to stand, and Jennie to kneel in front of me. I saw The Mistress take a small, liquid-filled, plastic bottle from the drawer and shake it. She then removed the lid and I could smell rubbing alcohol. Her fingers reached into the bottle and pulled out a long needle, which she held out to Jennie, saying, "Take this needle in your right hand. Hold his penis with your left hand. Place the point of the needle against the head of his penis and push it all the way through."

As I watched Jennie place her left hand on the shaft of my cock, and then bring her right hand toward it, she seemed to be moving in slow motion. There was never any hesitation in her movements, and as soon as the point of the needle touched the head, she pushed it into my flesh. The length of the needle appeared to shorten momentarily, and then it broke through on the opposite side of the head. At no time did I feel anything more than pressure against my cock, and a slight burning as the needle disappeared.

When the needle had been centered in the head of my cock, The Mistress ordered Jennie to stop and to remove her hands from my member. After she had done so, The Master instructed her to stand on the coffee table, facing them, with her legs spread as wide as possible.

I watched my wife climb onto the table, then spread her legs to their maximum extent. Her naked pussy was open to view by the three of us, and I thought there had never been any more beautiful sight. I could see her pouting lips where I had so recently fastened the clamps and weights, and the moisture that was beaded on her slit.

The Master then ordered her to grasp her labia and pull them to the side as far as possible. When she complied with his order, I thought she would pull them from her body with the force she applied. I could hear her moaning, both from the pain of the stretching and her arousal.

The Master than ordered Jennie to lie face up on the table, and when she had done so to draw back her knees as far as possible. She was then told to place her hands on her ankles and pull her legs apart.

The Mistress ordered me to come around to their side of the table, then handed me a large candle and a cigarette lighter. She said, "Hold the candle in your right hand and take the lighter in your left. Use the lighter to kindle a flame on the candle. When it's burning, hold it so that the melting wax drips on your wife's vagina."

I lit the candle, and then held it above Jennie's pussy. When the wax started to melt, I tipped the candle so that the drips fell on her sopping wet slit. She moaned in arousal every time one of the hot drops landed on her flesh, and soon began to rock her hips.

The Mistress then said, "Place the unlighted end of the candle in her vagina. Push it in until the flame is about one inch from her flesh." I peeled some of the stiffened wax from her hole and began to insert the candle in her. As Jennie watched the flames come ever closer to her cunt, her moans increased in volume and intensity, and her hips rocked faster and faster. I was then ordered to pinch her nipples as hard as I could and twist and pull on them.

The Master began talking to her in a low voice, saying, "Jennie, the candle is burning your pussy. You can feel the heat searing your tender flesh. You love the feel of it, and want it to burn you more and more. The candle is now completely inside you, and the flame is burning stronger than ever. You can smell the delicious scent of your roasting cunt. You need to cum, more than you ever have in your entire life. I want you to cum now, Jennie. Cum now!"

Jennie screamed louder than she ever had when in our bed, and her body began to jerk in all directions at once. As she screamed again, her hips rose completely off the table and I could see the spasms in her widespread pussy as she orgasmed. Her climax seemed to go on and on, and she cried out several more times during it.

Finally her body rested on the tabletop, and she panted for breath. After several seconds, her breathing evened and her eyes opened. The Mistress then said, "That was very good, Jennie. I want you to remember how you were able to orgasm when you were ordered to do so. The next time you hear The Master or The Mistress order you to cum, you will do it."

She then instructed me to blow out the candle and remove it from Jennie's pussy, and then peel away the melted wax. After I had done that, The Master told Jennie to sit up and then to again kneel before me.

As I looked down at my beautiful wife kneeling in front of me, I noticed that the needle was still embedded in the head of my cock. I had forgotten that it was there, and am not able now to recall any pain associated with it. It was simply there, as there were fingers on my hands, or toes on my feet. It was a part of me.

The Mistress ordered me to spread my legs as wide as possible and hold them in that position until told otherwise. When I had done so, she again reached into the drawer and brought out a riding crop. She looked at Jennie, saying, "Hold out your hand and take the crop. I want you to bring it upwards against your husband's testicles with all the force in your arms. Keep beating his testicles until we tell you to stop."

Jennie held the crop at arm's length in front of her. She lowered it to the floor, then brought it rapidly up until it struck my sac. As with the needle, the only thing I could feel was a sudden sensation of pressure in my balls, and a slight stinging. She lowered the crop, and then again brought it up sharply against my naked flesh.

She had completed about half a dozen strokes when The Mistress spoke my name to get my attention, then said, "You are watching your wife whip your balls. Soon they will swell to many times their normal size. You feel each stroke of the riding crop as agonizing pain, but can not move your body to avoid it."

As the next stroke impacted my nuts, I screamed in pain. Jennie continued to lower the riding crop and then swiftly bring it upwards to beat my agonized balls. I screamed each time the crop struck my flesh.

The Mistress then said to me, "You are more aroused than ever in your life. Your whole body is crying for release. You must cum. You have to cum. Cum now!"

From far away, I heard The Master order Jennie to hold her mouth open and to hold my cock so that my semen would spurt past her lips. I saw her do that, and saw the needle in the head of my cock, and felt the agonizing pain in my monstrously swollen balls. The cum that began boiling out of my tortured nuts was racing to her waiting mouth, and I saw it spurt onto her face. She adjusted her aim, and the remaining gobbets fell onto her tongue. I remember screaming with the agony and the ecstasy of my release, and then fighting to breathe.

As soon as I had recovered slightly, The Mistress ordered me to kneel in front of Jennie and to suck my cum from her tongue. I fell to my knees and pulled her to me and kissed her deeply. Her cum-covered tongue entered my mouth and I greedily sucked it, swallowing every precious drop that she gave me.

Finally I was ordered to stand, and to face my wife, who remained kneeling. The Mistress held out the bottle of alcohol and told Jennie to remove the needle from the head of my penis and to replace it in the alcohol. By that time, my cock was flaccid, and Jennie had trouble holding it in position while she withdrew the needle.

As the point of the needle disappeared into my flesh, a single drop of blood appeared. When the entire needle had been withdrawn, several drops appeared at that place, but soon stopped. Jennie placed the needle in the bottle, and The Mistress sealed the lid in place.

We were ordered to again seat ourselves on the couch opposite The Master and The Mistress. As soon as we had done so, he began to speak.

"You have both done very well here tonight. You have been more sexually aroused than ever before in your lives. You know that when you are guests of honor at the ceremony, you will be even more aroused. You want to be guests of honor at the ceremony, and will do everything in your power to ensure your attendance. You know that you will be tortured to new heights of agonizing pain, and you want that to happen."

"Now I want you to get dressed. You have both been instructed that your bodies will feel very little pain from what was done to them here tonight. You will feel no ill-effects from what was done here tonight. When you leave this room,you will walk to the car, enter it and sit down. When the door opens, you will get in your own vehicle and very carefully drive home. You will prepare for bed in your usual way, and then sleep until late tomorrow morning. When you awaken, you will be more refreshed and rested than ever before. You will remember everything about tonight, and will hunger to repeat it. Now stand and walk to the door behind you."

We were met at the door by the chauffeur, who escorted us to the car and saw that we were seated. When the door next opened, we were in the parking lot, immediately behind our own vehicle. We drove home in complete silence, got ready for bed, and did indeed sleep until almost noon the following day.

To be continued.