Helen Hotwat was in her second year at college and her 19th year of celibacy. When all your girlfriends are going on and on about the wonders of sex, being a virgin is Hell. It wasn't that Helen was homely or anti-social. Despite W.C. Field's famous definition of a virgin ( 13 year-old girl, verrrrry ugly ), Helen's cherry remained un-plucked and she remained unwanted all through high school and even in her first year at college where getting laid every Friday and Saturday night was a given. Given or not, Helen wasn't getting any.
Somehow Helen found no guy ( or girl for that matter ) willing to even kiss or cuddle with her. In fact, she never had a real date. What was wrong with her? Even in tenth grade her friends seem to snicker behind her back and she'd catch glimpses of boys laughing among themselves and pointing at her. She was nearly always alone at the lunch table in high school.
The only friend she had who would stick up for her was Candy Namo. Candy was almost as smart and pretty as Helen. Candy had scored just below her on every spelling bee and math contest, had second honours ( Helen always won first place ) at the Science Fair year in year out. Candy made National Honour Society but lost out on any award money (which Helen took ). Helen was always one up on Candy in the PSAT, SAT, Scholarship Competition and Entrance Exam throughout their pre-college years. In high school Candy was nearly picked to be Prom Queen (Helen got that honour but showed up without a date as no boy would ask her.)
Because Candy was Helen's best friend and confidant, the lonesome, love-deprived loser cried her heart out to Candy and swore she'd do anything to get laid. She was that horny. Candy sympathized and suggested that maybe Helen was intimidating for guys her own age. That maybe her good looks, brains and charming manner was off-putting. But there were plenty of fish in the sea. Maybe, suggested Candy, Helen could try fishing in a different pool, one where the men appreciated a strong woman who could handle a real man.
This cheered Helen up to no end. Being called strong and in need of a real man fed her ego and made her susceptible to Candy's next suggestion, a blind date with a biker friend of Candy's cousin, Gord. Helen wasn't too sure, but because the advice came from her only friend, Helen agreed and Candy made the arrangements.
What Helen was unaware of was that for years Candy had very carefully spread rumours about her supposed friend. Helen, who had fairly bested Candy in every way imaginable, was a social loser. As early as grade ten, Candy had found ways to drop hints or leave damning evidence behind to imply that her 'best bud', Helen had some kind of STD. It started with a faked medical report found in the girls' locker room that seemed to explain why Helen had missed three weeks of school. In fact, Helen had spent those three weeks at a Minor Mensa Retreat, but the bogus medial report showed her to have been in a Herpes Case Study Program. Word spread like wildfire but no one tackled the issue directly with Helen. She was just a pariah from that moment on.
This calumny was reinforced from time to time over the years with Candy spreading lies about Helen; the slanderous ideas were all planted in the most ingenious way, with Candy asking the biggest gossips in the school to keep this under their hats, but ... Etc.
The et cetera was how Helen was being treated in ongoing psychological programs as well as courses of therapeutic treatment for a series of medical conditions, all of which involved sexual behaviour and all of which were highly infectious or contagious. Those two medical terms Candy used interchangeably but incorrectly. However, it didn't matter as the gossips she was informing were even more ill-informed than she. The bottom line was if you got too close to Helen, you were very likely to come down with an STD. Sex with her was most likely a death sentence.
Added to this poison Candy spread about Helen, was the warning that because of the traumatic nature of Helen's various conditions, she must never be confronted with the issue. If she knew everyone else knew, there was no telling what the poor girl might do. So everyone, especially boys, avoided Helen like the plague and no one mentioned the matter to her either. Helen was completely in the dark and things were about to get much darker for her.
Candy's latest lie about Helen was that she had HIV/AIDS and, because of previous bouts of other STDs, had memory lapses and failed to take her drugs periodically which made even casual contact with her a danger of contagion. This was all bullshit, of course, but only pre-med students would know that and the college they attended was noted for its non-science curriculum.
The man Candy had chosen for Helen's blind date, Mark, was a match for Helen in many ways. He was attractive, brilliant, very athletic and also free of any relationship at this time. Helen was very impressed and nearly in love after their first date. She was taken in by his charm and was stunned when she found out that he had tried out for the brilliant dramatic production of Criminals, Lunatics, Women and Idiots. Mark had wanted to play a key role but, as he told Helen, he and the director didn't see eye to eye on interpretation of the play and so, being a gentleman, he deferred to the director's greater wisdom and bowed out before the first rehearsal. It seems the play, which was written by feminists to champion women's rights, was not what Mark had in mind. What he thought the play should be about, he did not mention to Helen.
Mark seemed like Mr. Right and the answer to Helen's prayers and lusting needs. What she did not know about Mark, but Candy did, was that he was a misogynistic sociopath who saw nothing wrong with the Marquis de Sade and thought The Story of O fairly documented women's desire and need to be submissive, degraded and disciplined. Mark not only viewed BDSM porn on line, he eschewed Stripping and Humiliation sites as being too tame and vanilla for his tastes. Instead, he had set up a mini-video studio in his basement where his clever mind had developed instruments, equipment, tools and 'toys' with which to help him realize his wildest fantasies involving sexual humiliation, bondage/discipline and domination of the fairer, and more vulnerable sex.
Mark had actually had little dating experience. Although very charming and handsome, his relationships rarely got beyond a first date when he would open up in a totally honest attempt to connect. Over glasses of wine Mark would go into great detail about his sexual desires and gender philosophy. Girls who agreed to a second date usually thought he had been kidding. None had arranged a third date after hearing Mark hint at what he had in mind back at his place.
So Mark was as frustrated and lonely as Helen but for very different reasons. Helen was ostracized for lies told about her; women stayed away from Mark because of the truths he told about himself. But the end result was similar and Mark and Helen got together for that third date even though Helen was dubious and uncertain about the lovemaking style and sexual fulfillment to which Mark had alluded. But what did virgin, untouchable Helen know? Maybe this was just different strokes for different folks; even if the strokes were delivered by a cane, riding crop or whip. Who was she to judge?
But when Helen walked down the steps to Mark's basement of debasement she quickly realized this was not for her. But, being polite and well-bred, she was diplomatic in explaining to Mark that this just wasn't going to work and their dating days were doomed to end.
"It's not you, Mark. It's me, "she told him not realizing that line had become a self-mocking icon since George Castanza had claimed it for his own in a long-ago but oft re-run episode of Seinfeld. "I can understand love taps and sexy spanking in lovemaking, but whips and tit-clips and ... uhhmmm whatever that machine with a ten inch dildo on the end is ... it's just not my dream caress. Sorry."
Mark was not upset, angry or even disappointed. He told Helen that his interest was more into the woman's enjoyment of these fantasy fetishes than his own. If it didn't turn her on, then it wouldn't work for him. It was just that Candy had said, or at least implied, that Helen was desperate for humiliating and kinky, submissive sex and would enjoy it because of her unfortunate medical condition.
"Candy told you I had a medical condition?" Helen asked in utter confusion.
"Sorry," Mark replied in a sheepish way, " Candy said I shouldn't mention it because of the psychological trauma of it all and how your history of STDs and now AIDS made any kind of sex a dream for you. Everyone knows your tragedy but Candy's been keeping you safe from knowing they know ... for your own good, right? I guess I've opened a Pandora's Box, eh?"
"Not at all, Mark," replied Helen who was just beginning to understand something. " Please go on, I need to know, for psychological reasons, just what people are saying about me ... I mean what they know about me and why Candy has let them know." The penny dropped. Candy, whose lies had made Helen a sex-pariah, had set her up with this loony sadist.
"Candy must have thought I'd go along with this," thought Helen, " because I was so desperately horny I'd accept any kind of sex no matter how humiliating."
Helen had been celibate and desperate for years because of that bitch. A plan for revenge was forming in Helen's mind. She and Mark spent a rather enjoyable time together as he detailed all the 'information' Candy had been spreading about her. Helen now showed a great deal of interest in Mark's peculiar sex needs and she had him describe in great detail all the tools and equipment in his basement, their intended use and the effect he expected it would have on a woman who was truly into BDSM and sexual humiliation as much as he would be.
Mark was overjoyed to find someone with such a keen interest in his hobby, even if it wasn't right for her. As a gentleman, he would respect that, but he was happy to find Helen shared his enthusiasm in the abstract. He told Helen why he chose an array of whipping tools including a simple paddle, switches, slippers, a tawse, a bull whip, canes of various thicknesses and, of course, a riding crop. It had to do with application of different discipline techniques over a long period of time and at random so the bitch in need would not be able to defensively prepare herself before the blows occurred.
The four poster bed with silk ties at the corner posts were to maximize stretch and tone the muscles when the cock-drill was applied. That tool was a 12 inch lubricated rubber dildo that was attached to a multi-speed drill for application vaginally and/or anally.