“It's nine a.m. and this is Dougie the Dog here at WKGC, and we're back with Claudia Leary, better known as Claudia Canary. You're amazing, Claudia! Sixty million albums, four Grammy's and seven American Music Awards, and recently you were named best pop female vocalist at ToneFest!”
“Thanks, Dougie, you're too kind, and I couldn't have done it without the people who work behind me…”
“Oh, no you're remarkable. My daughter has the poster for your movie, as well. But what I wanted to talk about today was the new song that's really hitting the play lists, your hit “Obeying Auntie”. I understand there may be yet another movie, Hollywood wants to do, based on this song of a rebellious girl led the right way by her strict aunt. Tell me, was this inspired by a relative of yours?”
“Hah! No, my folks were very permissive…no actually by a therapist I've seen over the years…”
Samuel grunted as Miss Pratt switched off the radio, turning his huge black head to Miss Pratt. “So you see, you're an inspiration, Prattsie..” Miss Pratt smiled grimly and bent her whippy cane over her knee, frightening the two naked women who hanging from her ceiling. “Yeah, ain't it the truth.”
Kathy held onto the rope desperately, as Miss Pratt ruminated on. Miss Pratt bent her cane, muttering about Claudia O, and the upcoming session. Despite Kathy's discomfort at having held onto the end a rope that hung from the ceiling for nearly two hours, she couldn't believe that Claudia O was one of Miss Pratt's clients.
Kathy looked over at poor Evelyn, also hanging from a rope. Kathy had thought it was horrible enough when her husband had informed her that he was through chaining her to the ceiling for whippings. “I want you to hold onto a rope voluntarily, and not let go and fall off just because I'm giving you a whipping.” Master Titus had informed her.
But of course, every time Kathy had been stripped naked and forced to hang from a rope connected to the ceiling of her Florida room, she'd dropped it, screaming as soon as his nasty wicker carpet sweeper had smacked her full bare buttocks.
So Titus had given Kathy a plane ticket and a sum of money, and sent her to Washington, DC to see Miss Pratt with the instructions to not return to San Antonio until she'd been trained to hold a rope and take a full, harsh whipping.
And she'd gotten a room at a Holiday Inn, and every day she'd driven to Miss Pratt's for a “group class” in Hanging, which reminded her of the Spinning and Step Aerobics classes at her spa. Thirty naked women, of varying ages and sizes, hanging onto ropes…
At first Kathy had been able to hold the rope for about five minutes, and then she'd dropped, exhausted…her wrists burning.
But after the vicious whipping that Giselle, Miss Pratt's second-in command had given her, Kathy had anxiously jumped back onto the rope and held it for fifteen minutes, watching, as the other hangers did with anxiety as Giselle and Debra walked around tapping their rubber hoses, occasionally whacking a bare butt that seemed slacking.
Now Kathy could hold the rope for two hours, and even hold it when getting a light whipping, but still, when Miss Pratt hit her with a cane or strop, Kathy tended to fall, even if her wrists were tired.
And now she and Evelyn were the only Hangers… Evelyn, the poor thing, could hang, not letting go of the rope, and take whippings of various amounts, but Miss Pratt was testing her further, and had chained a big metal thing, a propane cylinder weighing about fifty pounds to Evelyn's feet.
So now Evelyn had to maintain her strength to hold onto the rope, and also support this tank thing which appeared to be pulling her into the floor. And my God, Miss Pratt was going to give Evelyn a whipping!
Miss Pratt approached Evelyn, a woman in her late fifties, holding the cane in one hand and a bag of clothespins in another. “Samuel, you must understand, Claudia is my most demanding client…she's a lot of work. Hold still, Evelyn.” Putting the cane down, Miss Pratt reached up and began putting clothespins all over poor Evelyn's withered breasts, one at a time.
“I can remember her calling me and FORCING me to fly to Budapest once, because Claudia was having a panic attack before a concert.” Miss Pratt put more clothespins on Evelyn's stomach. “Miss Pratt, it's too much, with the tank, ma'am.” Evelyn whispered, and Miss Pratt reached up and soundly slapped her face leaving red mark across Evelyn's cheek, and the older woman began quietly sobbing.
“Shut up, Evelyn. You're a disgusting wimp. I can't believe what a ninny you are even after eight years of training. What will Kathy, our newcomer, think? Now open up your thighs, so I can get more clothespins in there.” Evelyn breathed, rolled her eyes at the goggling Kathy, and opened her thighs, and Miss Pratt began putting clothespins all over her inner thighs and up in her shaved vaginal area.
“When I arrived in Claudia's hotel room in Budapest, I was furious, and the first thing I did was throw out her entourage, all of them, makeup women, voice coaches had to leave the room, and then I took her jeans down and whipped her with a coat hanger that I straightened from her wardrobe.”
Miss Pratt began putting clothespins on Evelyn's wrinkled bottom…Kathy hoped that her buttocks never got so cellulite infested that they resembled cottage cheese. Miss Pratt pulled a stepladder over, and climbed up, adding 20 more clothespins to Evelyn's abdomen and underarms.
Finally, Miss Pratt backed off of Evelyn, and sat down again. “You just relax, honey…enjoy the clothespins.” Miss Pratt turned to Samuel. "I know that Claudia is your favorite client...you're such a star-fucker, so to speak."
Samuel smiled and went back to polishing the doorknob. “You know Claudia called" he said "…are you going to give her an entire afternoon, tomorrow as she asks?” Prattsie snorted. “I don't see why, good God, it's not my fault she can't have sessions because she's touring the world all the time, or recording in Burbank, California. Why can't she find a fucking domme there?”
Kathy watched Evelyn hang there, the clothespins and the tank obviously torturing her. Kathy noticed though, that the more she worried about Evelyn, the less she was concerned with her own situation, which of course was, that she had now been hanging from the rope for nearly three hours.
Samuel wiped the doorknob again. “I can think of two thousand good reasons why you should see her this afternoon, dear. It is indeed annoying that she calls at the last minute, but we need a new roof.” Samuel shook his massive head. Miss Pratt grinned at him. “Okey-dokey…I know you have tomorrow's schedule memorized, Samuel, you Caribbean genius, you…”
Samuel paused in his polishing and recited:
“Tomorrow at eight o'clock in the morning you are seeing Dr. Nichole Plaskett, a cardiologist, who is treating your father for free, by the way. Dr. Plaskett is coming in for a Governess fantasy, and I have already arranged the large wooden hairbrush, the twin tailed School Strap, and your prim hemlined dress to be arranged in the Nursery.”
Miss Pratt nodded, and backed off, jumping up and whacking Evelyn on her right hip with the cane. Miss Pratt smiled in satisfaction as two clothespins fell off. "What are you looking at, Missy?" Miss Pratt shouted at Kathy. "Want some of this? I didn't think so." Kathy clutched her rope and prayed.
Samuel scratched his chin, and began reciting the schedule again. “From nine-fifteen to ten thirty, you will be doing aerobics with Giselle and Debra.” Miss Pratt slumped.
“Oh, I hate that. Ugh. Exercise.” Miss Pratt lit a Chesterfield. “Yes my dear, but you are at this point just squeezing into your leather corsets these days.” Miss Pratt stuck her tongue out at Samuel, who ignored her. “At ten o'clock, while you are aerobicizing, Susie Huidekoper, a clothing buyer will be coming in, and she will disrobe and I shall lock her into a cage in the basement—“
Miss Pratt wandered up to Evelyn again, and severely tweaked one of the clothespins that was directly on her clitoris tip. Evelyn bit her lip to keep from screaming, and Kathy saw a tiny stream of blood come from Evelyn's mouth.
Miss Pratt interrupted him. “The dungeon, not the basement..stop calling it that.” Samuel grimaced. “I have worked in Bondage houses in both hemispheres since before you were born, little girl and my father before me…" Miss Pratt said "I didn't know eunuchs could reproduce" but she said it very quietly. Samuel continued. "that is a basement, most certainly not a dungeon. You have a pool table in there and the boiler room is MARKED. It…”
“Enough already! Susie, what about her!” Samuel smiled. “After you've worked out and relaxed with your tea, and Susie has been crouching in the dark for a few hours, you can go down and have a session. At approximately noon, I think."
Samuel coughed. " And, Prattsie your new Kangaroo Hide Dog Quirt came in the mail yesterday, and you can get a chance to try it out on her, as we broke your old dressage whip on Mrs. Oliphant last night.” Miss Pratt clapped her hands. “I am so excited about my new quirt!”
“Well it's downstairs, and you will have an enjoyable morning, I think” Samuel said. He looked at Miss Pratt, and nodded at Evelyn, and she mouthed Oh, and jumped up, swishing her cane. She was walking over to Evelyn, when, all of a sudden, she walked back towards the terrified Kathy.
As Miss Pratt stood in front of Kathy, Samuel kept talking.
Miss Pratt looked at Kathy, admiring the raven hair, the pale white skin and full breasts. “How are your wrists doing there, Kathy?” Kathy tried to smile. “I'm getting better at it, ma'am. I think Master Titus will be pleased.” Miss Pratt bent her cane over her knee and then swished it through the air, and both Kathy and Evelyn winced.
“Do you think you're up for a few blows, dear?” Miss Pratt asked this in a tone as if she were inquiring whether an invalid would like to have breakfast in bed. “Oh, no not yet, ma'am…Miss Pratt, I really need some more time.”
Oh Jesus. The little bitch is going to hit me! Maybe not, if I suck up to her. Kathy was a good looking woman, but she was thirty nine, and she felt so foolish calling a twenty-eight year old “Miss Pratt”
How Titus had found her Kathy would never know…but Miss Pratt may be flattered enough…”Miss Pratt, really, ma'am. I am just learning your methods of rope-holding, it's hard for me, ma'am."
Miss Pratt smiled kindly. "I know it's really tough for you, honey." Kathy ignored Evelyn's warning look and continued her sob story.
"Yes, ma'am, I have blisters and all. I doubt I could hold on if I got whippings yet. But your training is splendid. I thought I'd hang here for another twenty minutes and then go get some lunch…and come back tomorrow. It's been so good for me.”
Miss Pratt grinned. “Yeah, I bet it has…Pilates for the submissive, eh?” Miss Pratt lifted up the cane. WHACK!
Kathy screamed as the cane slashed her stomach. But she was still holding onto the rope. WHACK! Miss Pratt had danced back to Kathy's butt,oooh, that hurt…but still, she'd hold on THWACK! Right on the tits. Kathy let go of the rope screaming, and fell to the wood floor.
But not for long. Miss Pratt began whacking Kathy as soon as she landed flicking the cane up and down her nude body. “Did I tell you to let go of that rope, get the fuck back up there now!”
Kathy grabbed her breasts, sobbing, and held up a hand to ward off the blows from the cane, but they kept coming.
Finally she jumped for the rope and grabbed it, just as the last of the cane slashes marked her back. Miss Pratt gave Kathy a final whack on the hip. “I think I'll hold on for twenty minutes and then go get lunch.” Miss Pratt did a horribly effeminate falsetto mimick of Kathy's voice.
“Yeah, you little bitch…you'll hang here for the next hour, and then pass the next three hours in the basement locked in the stocks while Debra works you over!”
Kathy burst into tears, and kept hanging on.
Debra stuck her head in. “Ma'am, there's something for you to sign.” Miss Pratt stood up “Goodie….must be my new shipment of toys from Mozambique…good torture stuff there…Samuel, come with.”
She turned to Evelyn and the sobbing Kathy, whose body was now covered with red welts and stripes.
“I expect both of you to continue to hang onto the ropes…if I get any evidence that you've dropped down for a rest, there'll be hell to pay. Samuel, do the whipped cream!” As Kathy stared, Samuel picked up a can of Crazy Whip and squirted a large square under her feet, and then another square under Evelyn's.
“Now, if you drop down, I'll know about it. Remember, I'll be back in fifteen minutes.” Miss Pratt smiled like the Wicked Witch of the West, and followed Samuel out the door, shutting and locking it.
Kathy looked over at Evelyn sympathetically. The older woman looked terribly in pain, hanging as she was from a rope that she could let go of at any time...and shit, if she fell with that propane cylinder hanging under her, she might break a hip! And also, it must be horrible having all those clothespins hanging on her nipples, belly, armpits clitoris, buttocks and inner thighs.
"H-how are you feeling, Evelyn?" Kathy asked. Evelyn opened her eyes and smiled weakly at Kathy. "It gets better,my dear...learning to be a tolerant sub takes time. My nipples hurt terribly, but the rest of the clothespins really don't bother me." Evelyn swung on her rope inadvertently, clutching it carefully.
"Let me amend that" she said with a rueful smile. "My private parts below aren't faring too well either...but Evelyn will live!" Evelyn looked carefully at Kathy, who was none too comfortable on her own rope.
"Are your wrists holding up, dear?" Kathy looked up at her poor wrists, hanging on the rope for life itself. "Well, I shouldn't complain-hell, I don't have a fifty pound cylinder pulling me down, but yes, it's pretty hard."
Kathy grimaced. "I am wondering whether this was all worth it...but my husband is a Dom and he ordered me to come, and I don't like to displease him." Kathy smiled gamely.
Kathy watched, amazed as Evelyn's elegant fuschia nails gripped the rope, and she swung a bit. "It's a good thing to have a Master that understands you...he must be remarkable!"
Evelyn breathed in, and several of her clothespins fluttered.
"Yes, Titus is a wonderful, caring man. I got lucky with him! When I discovered that he could accommodate my submissive fantasies along with being a great guy, I was thrilled!" Kathy looked at Evelyn. "Is your Master counting on you to get training?"
Evelyn smiled. "No, my husband is also a submissive...I don't have a Master, except for Miss Pratt." Kathy's jaw dropped, and she almost let go of her rope. "Jesus, you're putting up with this rope-clutching thing for nothing?"
Evelyn gave Kathy a look. "I want to be the best submissive I can be! If I can hold onto a rope, and spare Miss Pratt the trouble of chaining me to the ceiling when I get my discipline, it's well worth it, and well worth the eight hundred dollars an hour that I pay for training. Besides, " Evelyn smiled "I've lost weight and my normal personal trainer says my body is quite muscular now!"
Evelyn looked at Kathy severely. "So try to be more grateful for your training...this is a big opportunity." Evelyn slipped a bit on the rope, and pulled herself up. "And don't try any more sucking up to Miss Pratt, dear. "
Evelyn moved a hand on the rope that obviously had a big blister on it. " Being flatterring--That never works. I know you think she's not too sharp because she's so young, but Miss Pratt never really had a childhood, and became a working domme in her late teens. She is old beyond her years."
Kathy sighed, and tried to get more of a grip on her rope, but her wrists were becoming numb. "I know...there's so much I need to learn!"
Kathy quieted down as Giselle opened the door and came in. Giselle was a small-breasted blond girl, rather sallow looking,but with a definite mean streak. Kathy had undergone several rather vicious whippings at Giselle's hand, and she was aware that Giselle didn't like her...perhaps because Kathy was so beautiful.
"So, talking to Evelyn, are we?" Giselle said with an irritated frown. "Jesus, I heard you coming up the hallway...bitching about how hard it is here...and Evelyn, poor thing, she's the one with all the clothespins." Giselle walked over to Evelyn. Lifting her rattan cane, she knocked a clothespin off the side of Evelyn's breast. "Ma'am, really I wasn't" begged Kathy. "I'm--quite happy here." Jesus I should be, at $400 an hour.
It was a damn good thing that Titus was well fixed, because Kathy's stay here had already run in the five grand mark...Giselle bent over and picked up the clothespin and walked over to Kathy. "Lean your head over so I can reach you, birdbrain." Kathy stared. "What? My head?" Giselle raised her knee and kicked Kathy in the cunt, and Kathy gasped.
"Lean your head over or--Oh, hell" Giselle reached up and grabbed Kathy by the hair. "Remember if you land in the pile of whipped cream, you're whipped..." Giselle laughed, and Kathy continued to clutch her rope as Giselle dragged her head over. "Open your mouth, you big-titted hag. I'm going to teach you to run your mouth. Open!" Kathy opened her mouth. "Stick your tongue out!"
Kathy obeyed, and Giselle clipped it with the wooden clothespin that she'd knocked off Evelyn's breast. Kathy, a hygeinic sort (She worked as a surgical nurse) gagged. Oh, God...my tongue hurts!
But Kathy held onto her rope gamely, and tried not to move her tongue around. It felt as if she'd bit her tongue 12,000 times.
"And I stopped and listened. Evelyn, you are so nice, telling Kathy about how good Miss Pratt is...what a pathetic heifer you are, Kathy." WHACK! Giselle lashed Kathy across the front thigh and Kathy moaned. "I think you want to help Kathy, don't you Evelyn? Your dedication is great." Giselle smiled at Evelyn.
Evelyn, gripping her rope weakly, responded. "Well, she's brand new, Miss Giselle...you must understand..." Giselle walked up and whacked Evelyn across the abdomen, knocking two clothespins off. "What do I have to understand? Who the fuck do you think you are, you rich bitch? "Giselle whacked Evelyn in the cunt.
"You have four degrees in hotel management and a huge chain of motels, and I barely finished grammar school...My ma usta be a maid in one of the Spotlight Inns you own, you lousy old hag...If Prattsie and I hadn't grown up together in the Four Winds trailer park, I'd still be working at the Winn Dixie, you old whore....don't tell me a fucking thing!"
Giselle knocked another clothespin off Evelyn's inner thigh, and the older woman moaned. "You think my real name is Giselle? You think I'm some kinda European import domme? Hell, my front name is Sabrina Hooks...I got renamed for this job, baby!" Giselle laughed, and whacked Evelyn again on her buttocks with the cane.
"Oopsie!" Giselle smiled, and picked up the clothespin. "That's the game I was talking about. Since Evelyn is so eager to help Kathy, I'll make a deal...I'm going to knock all the clothspins off Evelyn's baggy old body.
For each one that Evelyn takes in silence, each pinching knock, I'll leave the clothespin be on the floor. But for every moan or cry or whine from you, Evelyn, I'm going to put THREE clothespins on Kathy, here..."
No! That wasn't fair! She wasn't ready for clothespins yet! Kathy tried to speak,but the clothespin on her tongue prevented it. Giselle laughed, comprehending. "I know, you don't think you're ready. But I don't care."
Giselle walked up and whacked Kathy's face with her rattan cane. Kathy burst into tears, even through the clothespin, but she hung on.
" And if I can get you to fall off your rope, Samuel is going to horsewhip you in the next room, and then you are spending the night, not in your Holiday Inn suite, but in a chest with four air holes in the basement"
"Master Titus is paying for it. He's sick of your slowness in training, Kathy." Giselle smirked, and whacked Kathy's face again with the rattan cane. "If I can get you to fall into the whipped cream, believe me, kiddo, all hell's going to break loose for you! And part of it'll be using the clothespins...and the other part." Giselle reached into her purse, pulling out a long peacock feather--"will be using something else!"
Giselle stepped over to Kathy, careful not to put her toe in the whipped cream, and began running the peacock feather back and forth just under Kathy's engorged nipple. Kathy inadvertently bit the clothespin, which pinched her tongue more, but she didn't let go of the rope. It was do or die now. Kathy had spent half an hour once in the chest with four holes, and she had terrible claustrophobia.
"Having a bad time holding onto the rope, honey?" Giselle said sympathetically, as she transferred the feather from Kathy's nipple to just under her left armpit. As the feather traveled up and down the underside of Kathy's arm, she began giggling through the horrible clothespin, and shaking around, desperately trying not to let go of the rope.
It vaguely occurred to Kathy that all she had to do was say the word, and she'd be helped down, given her clothes, and sent on her way...Giselle would call her Mrs. Parsons, and it would be total respect--but then the sessions would be over and Titus would be terribly disappointed in her. So Kathy had to hold onto the rope and keep trying.
Whack! Giselle knocked a clothespin off Evelyn's buttocks, and the older woman bit her lip. Kathy pleaded with Evelyn not to make any noise, for she didn't think she could take the transfer of the clothespins, and Evelyn signaled back that she would try WHACK! Giselle knocked one clothespin off Evelyn's clitoris lip and the older woman screamed.
"Marvelous." Giselle smiled triumphantly. Giselle picked the clothespin up, and took two more from a small bag and, climbing up on a stepladder, placed three on Kathy's right earlobe.
It had never occurred to Kathy that Giselle would choose a non-lower body part to place clothespins on, but Giselle knew the most painful places, all right. Giselle smiled. "Oh yes...that's the other qualification I have, baby. When Prattsie and I were growing up in the trailer park, before she went off to that fancy prep school, I was her slave...her sub...and I know where the worst parts are, Hell, ain't it?
A half hour later, and Kathy was a veritable pincushion of clothespins. Six on each ear, two on her nose, one on each of the webbings between her fingers (It had been especially hard to hold onto the rope with one hand while Giselle had placed these clothspins on the other)
Giselle had put a belt of clothespins around Kathy's waist, and three on each of Kathy's inner elbows and behind the knees, which had been mind-bendingly painful.Giselle also placed a "Zipper" of clothespins on Kathy's side. This was a string of 20 clothespins connected by a long rawhide cord. Giselle had a Zipper on each side of Kathy's body, where her arms usually were (as of course the arms were above her head, clutching the rope) and the two Zippers were connected to a keyring, that Giselle kept pulling on gently, and dragging the Zippers off, and then again she'd put them back on Kathy's side. Giselle appeared to be enjoying herself immensely. "Too bad Evelyn's such a baby, or I wouldn't be putting these on."
Kathy's desperation was incredible...but she realized at some point, that Titus would be ineffably proud of her. She tried hard not to make any more noises as Giselle continued her tortures.
LATER
Claudia bent and bit her lip as the three lashes of Miss Pratt's Reminder, a short whip with three leather ox hide thongs knotted with small pieces of zinc and iron up and down each strand thwacked across her tender breasts.
"Oh, please, ma'am..." Claudia was nude and kneeling, her hands behind her head as Miss Pratt had instructed her, and what she was enduring was nothing short of a thorough hiding.
Claudia tried to think of a time that had been worse than this, and all she could come up with was when Miss Pratt had invited two gay street hustlers to whip and torture poor Claudia, and then she'd been forced to fellate them. Finally one had cum in the other's ass, and Claudia had been forced to lick the semen out of the greasy boy's rectum..thankfully this had been before AIDS had hit, but it had been unbelievably horrible.
"Wake up!" Miss Pratt screamed now, as she lashed Claudia's bare shoulder with the Reminder, laughing as the three pronged strop arose a pink welt near Claudia's neck.
Claudia gritted her teeth against the pain, but it was almost too much. Yet, for the first time in months, she was not worried about her manager, or the demands of her singing career...recording studios, radio ratings, albums and concerts were irrelevant as her skin was ripped off by the cruelty of the Reminder.
"You-(whack)-think-(whack thwack whack) you're such a big shot, don't you-(thwack whack) Miss Grammy Album girl!" Miss Pratt laughed gleefully and ran around to Claudia's back and landed the lashes on Claudia's back and buttocks, watching with satisfaction as the pieces of iron and zinc interspersed in the strands ripped Claudia's tender ass cheeks.
"You'll learn to mistreat your poor Auntie!" Miss Pratt's arm relentlessly fell again and again as the Reminder's lashes scraped old welts up against Claudia's tender skin.
"Oh, Auntie! I do care for you!" Clauda howled as the Reminder hit her particularly harshly just under her full buttocks. "I send you money every month, and gave you five percent of my last album, ma'am!" Oh, the pain!
"But do you call your Auntie when you're on the road?" Miss Pratt tossed down the Reminder and picked up a long, thin piece of Fiberglas, that was actually a fishing rod that had been cut off to mimic a cane.
Miss Pratt bent the cane, running her tongue across her teeth as she looked at the weeping Claudia with some satisfaction. "Ma'am, it was a hellish tour." Claudia sobbed. "I tried to stay in touch with you, Auntie Pratt...I called you
"Let's see..on the thirteenth of August you were playing in Buffalo, New York." said Miss Pratt, consulting a manifest."At the HSBC Arena...I got no call." Miss Pratt leaned over and whacked Claudia on the side of the hip, but the slave-girl obediently kept her hands on the back of her head.
“Goodness, you are bad…I'm a little tired as Samuel and I just spent half an hour mummifying a naughty little girl…you don't like that torture, as I recall.” Miss Pratt snorted. Clauda remembered the eternal six inch rolls of Ace bandages continuously overlapping her body, the gleaming black eunuch Samuel grinning as he'd pulled them around and around her body that time two years ago. Miss Pratt had ordered her placed horizontally on her back, and she'd been completely covered except for her nose, mouth and breasts, which had been whipped and tortured for several hours. At one point, Miss Pratt had put a piss gag in Claudia's mouth, and had had several other subs pee through it…oh how unpleasant it had been!
Then Miss Pratt had had Claudia turned over, and the wrappings surrounding her buttocks had been loosened. As she'd lay there, bound, her anus had been cleaned by a series of enemas, and her anus thoroughy lubricated with motor oil, the smell of which had turned Claudia's stomach. Then Claudia had felt Samuel's massive fingers working slowly and lightly at her anal opening, inserting one finger, and then as the opening widened, two or three.
As her ears had been mummified, Claudia hadn't been able to hear nothing and see nothing, her only sensation the moving of the fingers. Finally she felt all Samuel's fingers in her anus as well as the heel of his hand. Suddenly the hand withdrew, and then a huge pressure entered Claudia's anus, and she realized it was—oh, God…Samuel's fist, and in and out it had slammed, while she was in her mummified state, for nearly three hours. Fistfucked and mummified…yet her orgasms had been the hardest she'd ever had…her reverie ceased as Miss Pratt's voice cut in again.
"On the fourteenth, you were in Dayton Ohio, I got one call on my answering machine from the Erwin J. Nutter Center but did you call back?" Miss Pratt motioned for Claudia to bend over and she slashed Claudia's buttocks four times with the Fiberglas rod. "Then on the sixteenth you were in Nashville ...at the Gaylord Entertainment Center...on the seventeenth Oklahoma City...no call"
Miss Pratt sighed. "And you want me to think you are deserving of an orgasm, eh? With all the lack of attention...
ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION TO ME?" Prattsie screamed at Claudia, who was weeping bitterly. WHACK THWACK WHACK! Miss Pratt decorated Claudia's back with a series of red swathes. She threw down the Fiberglas and walked to the wall, where she took down a bullwhip.
"My goodness, isn't this a nice little number. And fear not, Claudia, I was instructed in good bullwhippery by a former circus ringmaster, so you're in luck...I can pace these lashes good--er, well." Miss Pratt smiled as she cracked the monster.
Claudia looked up in fear. "Auntie Pratt, please...I was so busy, appearing, and my bass player got sick...ma'am please...I love and am devoted to you but..."
Miss Pratt cracked the bullwhip, knocking over a lamp. "Get up, Claudia, and bend over that desk." Miss Pratt pointed a red nail at the harsh mahogany desk she kept in the corner of the room. Claudia protested.
"Please, not the bullwhip, I'm so sorry." Miss Pratt swung the whip again. "You know, Harriett Tubman gave her master a hard time, and he hit her with the butt of the whip, which was and is made of iron. Why do you want more grief. Get over the damn desk!"
Sobbing, Claudia arose and tottered to the desk,where she bent over, gritting her teeth as Miss Pratt continued reading from the paper with one hand , as she curled the bullwhip with the other. ", on the nineteenth you called me from Houston....but then no call from your concert in Dallas!"WHACK!
Claudia felt as if the whip had ripped out the skin on her right thigh.
“Was that so bad, Claudia? Believe me, before I learned to use this thing, I'd swing it, and end up whacking myself on the arms, legs, and on the back of my neck...it was quite troublesome, dear." Miss Pratt swung the whip out experimentally. "Yes, it's much like when I was learning fly fishing...all in the wrist."
Miss Pratt's voice went on " On the twenty-first, you talked to me for three paltry minutes from San Antonio, where I'm sure you thought you were the big shit." Claudia breathed with relief as the pain went down somewhat in her right thigh.
"You sent me a T-shirt from the Phillips Arena in Atlanta, thank you very much for that rag. I got no calls when you were in Raleigh, North Carolina, Sunrise, Florida, Montreal Ottawa or Philadelphia."
WHACK! Claudia's right butt cheek felt as if it had been stabbed. WHACK! Miss Pratt put the force of her shoulder behind the whip, flicking it right under Claudia's lower buttock.
As the lash met the cleft of her ass, Claudia screamed, and Miss Pratt pulled back the whip, landing it again on her shoulder. “This is marvelous kinetic energy, Claudia. Truly, you bitch too much. Watch out or Auntie will give you something to cry about.”
WHACK WHACK Claudia shrieked in agony.
Miss Pratt continued talking unconcernedly. " One one minute call from Detroit, and no calls from Indianapolis, Moline, St.Paul or Des Moines." WHACK WHACK THWACK "
A brief call from your show in Denver, your show in Tacoma, Washington, nothing." Miss Pratt grabbed Claudia's nipple with one hand and twisted it savagely, and Claudia screamed. "Let's see, your concert in Vancouver you gave me one brief call, Sacramento, nothing." Miss Pratt landed a couple of vicious whacks across Claudia's shoulders, "Then when you were in Fresno, I heard nothing."
Claudia awaited further lashes, but none came. "Don't worry...I realize that you don't care much, Claudia...why should I attempt to discipline you when you don't care about me when you are on tour?"
Claudia, scared now, ran to Miss Pratt and fell to her knees, kissing Miss Pratt's feet feverishly. "Please, oh please, ma'am...forgive me! Give me the thrashing I deserve. I couldn't stop thinking of you for a moment, ma'am."
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Giselle was having a difficult time, still, staring at her idol, Claudia O…and Miss Pratt was annoyed. “Look, there's no better time than now for you to learn to focus, Giselle.” Miss Pratt snapped her fingers.
“Get me the big strap-on dildo, dear.” Giselle obeyed, and Miss Pratt took an enormous black rubber cock out of Giselle's hands.
“Bend over, Claudia, and stick your ass out.” Claudia wearily bent down and showed her rear end. “Yeah, spread-em.” Miss Pratt whacked Claudia's legs apart, as Giselle and Debra watched in wonder.
“Now girls, our rear ends were not meant to be fucked, the rectum has no natural lubrication, unlike the vagina, so it's easy to damage the tissue down there if you stick the thing in the wrong way.” Miss Pratt tapped the rubber dildo on Claudia's buttocks and chuckled.
Miss Pratt put on a rubber glove and asked Debra to push Claudia's buttocks apart. Miss Pratt put her finger in Claudia's asshole. “The anus is the tiny opening encircled by two sets of muscles, the external and internal sphincter.”
“Push her cheeks more open, Debra. Ignore her moans, she's lovin' it.” Claudia felt as if she would die of mortification. Miss Pratt pushed her finger into Claudia's anus.
“This opening leads to the anal canal, and then to the rectum. The anal canal has arousal capabilities very much like the clitoris, it swells when sexually excited…and they love the strap-on, no matter what you hear from the slave-girl.”
“Now as you can see, Claudia is good and loose.” Miss Pratt pulled out her finger and made a fist. Giselle and Debra squealed as Miss Pratt shoved her fist into Claudia's rectum, and Claudia burst into tears. “Claudia has been my client for nearly five years, and this is why she lives in DC, no matter what idiot theories People magazine has about her abandoning her residences in California, New York and Biarritz.”
Miss Pratt picked up the cane silently and thwacked it against Claudia's bottom as she knelt face down. “Ain't that right, sweet thing?” Claudia turned up a tear stained face. “I can't be more than five miles from you, Auntie Pratt.”
Miss Pratt smiled. “Now, when I first started seeing Claudia, she had a very tight anus. We couldn't't get that dildo in there at all.” Miss Pratt sighed. “So when she went on her first so-called farewell tour, I instructed her to put a small butt plug in her rectum, and wear it at all times, except when defecating. When she returned from the tour I found that her rectum was bigger, a bit more stretched, and so I put in an even larger butt plug.”
Claudia remembered the plugs, wearing gradually bigger ones over an eighteen month period, feeling it squeezing her cheeks when she was in concert, while songwriting, and in the recording studios. It had been terribly uncomfortable, but the tension had replaced her need to binge and purge, and she'd given up drugs and stopped drinking heavily during this time.
“Finally, darling Claudia has the big, loose butt-hole she has today, and aren't't we proud! Clap girls!” Debra and Giselle clapped uncertainly. “Yes, if I'd stretched it much further, the poor thing would be in Depends when she goes on stage tonight at the Post Pavilion, eh?” Miss Pratt chuckled, as Claudia sobbed in humiliation.
But it had been what she wanted. Claudia had been only cerebrally submissive for the first twenty-four years of her life—and then her band, the Canaries, had done a publicity stunt of hiring a number of roadies from the disadvantaged—welfare fathers, ex-drug addicts, and work-release convicts from the Eastern Correctional Institution in Princess Anne, MarylandOne of these had been an almost useless creature, who called himself Fenton the Felon… a half-breed with thick glasses who refused to move amplifiers or even bring Claudia her guitar. All he seemed to do was smoke pot and read philosophy books.
One day, when he'd brought her coffee, cold, Claudia had reached out to shake him…and she would up over his lap, her miniskirt flipped up, and panties down, as this little pseudo intellectual thing whipped her with a microphone cord! Then he'd turned Claudia over a table and screwed her in the ass, with a surprisingly big dick.
“This is about me cumming, not you..” he'd laughed as he'd thrown her to her knees after the screwing. Claudia had been dazed. She'd noticed that Fenton had not used much force when he'd turned her over his knee, or when he'd bent her across the table—she was actually twice his size, and could have flattened him with a swipe…but she'd been helpless all the same.
“What do you want to do to me now, little lady” grinned the little convict. “Going to send me back to stir as a rapist?” Claudia had looked at the ground “No sir…no, Master.” They'd been together from 1967 through 1976, and then Fenton had moved on…and Claudia had gone back to 2o years of cocaine, anorexia and adoring,worshipful men…
Claudia had run into Fenton at one of her shows at around the turn of the century and dragged him backstage. “Fenton, won't you come back to me?” she begged…”I need your thrashings and ass-fuckings.” Fenton had shook his head, smiling. “My dance card is booked…but perhaps you need the services of Miss Pratt, I'll give you her number.” Claudia had shook her head. “But I need to be ass-fucked too, by a real harsh Master, not a girl!” Fenton had smiled and handed her a torn piece of paper with the most important phone number she'd ever had.
She came back to reality as Miss Pratt was discussing enemas. “I generally give Claudia here a nice enema to make sure she has no crud up there before I start fucking..but I think I may have whipped out the turds this time, ho ho.”
"First, we need lubricant...I like to use Vick's Vapo-Rub...It has a lovely effect on her anus...and if I can find them, I roll the dildo also in hot peppers... but we didn't get to Whole Foods Market this week, so it'll just be the Vapo-Rub."
“Now the first thing you need to do, is put the thing on.” Miss Pratt said as she belted on the huge black dildo. “I never wear this unless I'm fully dressed, as the dildo can damage my pubic area unless I'm dressed. Then I put my gloved finger into Claudia's bottom, pushing it in the anus,rubbing carefully until I feel her sphincter muscle open up a bit, as it were. As I've indicated, I can now get an entire fist in there, but I like to open it up anyway.” The girls giggled, and Claudia hid her face, though her pussy was soaking.
Claudia gasped and bit her tongue...she thought of the limosine outside waiting for her...how arrogant she'd be on the phone later, bitching out her agent...and the hordes waiting for her on stage tonight...it was all such a thrill...such a burden! But right now, she was fully occupied with getting what she deserved...for really what Claudia O was was not a diva...but a worthless little slave-girl...indeed! Claudia bent her head and took her ass-fucking in silence, and hoped it wouldn't end for a while...she was finally relaxed.
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