Chapter 4: Gina's Story

Chrissie's Story Continued: (approximately nine months later) I glanced idly out the plane window, as we left from the Atlanta airport. Poor Tom, he still doesn't know what to make of all that has happened. For that matter, neither do I. I have to say that I really only miss my baby. But the divorce is final; and my feelings of loss now are minimal and only felt occasionally.

We're finally on the way to Las Vegas. Big T says he knows some real players there. I wonder what that whole scene will be like, I mean, like I'll be a "professional" prostitute now, getting paid for it and all; or at least Big T will get paid. I know my fate and my future now, or at least I think that I do. Big T told me that he has already arranged for me to be on call in Vegas, for a minimum of $5,000.00 per night.

I remember hearing him tell "Stumpy" the other night, after Stumpy had filmed me being whipped, and while I was still on the whipping frame, that they are furnishing videos of me to potential customers from the middle east and east Africa. Big T told Stumpy that the videos were the best that he had ever seen; and Big T believed that he could get at least $50,000.00 for me, which I assumed meant that I would earn him that much a month. Later on, the memory of this conversation will come back to haunt me, time and again.

T told me then that "from now on, you'll earn my way on your back." I smile to myself, remembering that. Men can be so funny, when they are not so scary. Big T knows, and so do I, that my mouth, my pussy and my asshole will earn my way for Big T and me. As I shift around in the first class seats, I an conscious of the ring through my nipple of my left breast against my summer sun back dress. Big T will not let me wear any bras anymore. I am also constantly aware of how my left pussy lip tingles, from the feeling of the pussy ring through that pussy lip, like it has since Momma D pierced me and put the ring in. I cannot understand or even believe how the pussy ring works to keep me wet and turned on virtually all the time. As I shift, I am also conscious of the lingering pain from today's whipping, with the stripe marks on my thighs and buttocks still freshly swollen.

I stretch out in the seat and kick off my sandals. I look again at my toenail polish, wondering if I will need a fresh pedicure before I "date" anyone in Las Vegas. My last pedicure was this past week, when I had Gina use that new color, "Midnight Blue", that is so dark blue that it is blue- black. I am still getting used to this color; its so different from the dark reds that I am used to wearing. I think that its really funny, you know, "ha! Ha!", in that every man who has ever meant anything to me has wanted me to wear fingernail and toenail polish, starting with my father. I know that Tyrone really notices how my fingernail and particularly my toenail polish looks; and that he likes the dark colors, with the gold hi-lights, the best. He told me that he wanted me to use only the really dark reds, as well as blues, dark purples and, even black sometimes... Well, whatever.

As I get more comfortable in the seat, my mind begins to free associate back to the weeks just after Tom's mother confronted him with my "affairs" with other men. If she only knew, or could have seen the first videos that Eddie or Stumpy had taken. Good old Stumpy, with his dick that is as big around is it is long. I enjoy how much he loves screwing me, with that big "stump" inside me. I never thought I could take that "stump" without splitting, but much to my surprise and even pride, I screwed his brains out. I know that I am the only white woman that has ever taken all his big black dick in at once. Now, he has become my protector and my buddy.

After his mother's disclosure, Tom had literally forced me out of my home, and I really didn't know what I would do. I mean, Tom had married me when I was only 18 years old, and I was only 22 then. Neither Barry, nor my brother David wouldn't or couldn't let me stay with either of them. Big T, though, had come through for me, in many more than this one way. He had arranged for me to have a nice apartment, fully furnished, and had friends stay with me, including Mary Diane Washington. Even now, though, the sound of that name makes me shiver.

"Momma D", she likes to be called. Momma D was, in the "real world", as she termed it, a practicing clinical psychologist. She was also a practicing witch of the "Guarniela" sect, and a sadist worthy of the Marquis' most depraved impulses. She was at once a blend of down home comforting, an eccentric child-like innocence, and a sadistic terrorist, whose thoughts and experiments of what I could and must do to please Big T had caused me such pain. My thoughts skittered around in my mind, with to me a curious blend of love, repugnance and downright fear. Momma D, who had introduced me to pain, like none that I had ever experienced since I had my baby. Momma D, who had taught me that I feared that pain, yet I welcomed it, treasured it to my breast like my child after each session. Momma D, who had taught me that I was so masochistic and ultimately submissive.

I had been in the apartment that Big T had rented for me, for about 1 month, with all the feelings of loss and bereavement since Tom had literally thrown me out of our home. Big T had talked to me and had wanted me to party with he and some of his business associates, but it seemed that nothing was getting through my depression; so he brought Momma D home to help me, to entertain me, and frankly, as she said, to teach me to obey and be submissive. I mean, I thought that I already was as submissive to Big T as I could be. Momma D knew better, however, and from our second meeting, it became her goal to make me completely submissive to Big T's, or to her, every whim and desire.

I remember our first meeting but vaguely, because it was so clinical and so innocuous; but I remember our second so vividly because of the pain. She came to me in the night, the second time, and woke me so gently with a kiss like my mother used to give me. She led me to the bathroom where she carefully sponged my face with cool water, and stilled my incipient questions with a soft "shushing" like to a small child. She looked at me, in the pale night light that I had constantly on. I knew what she had seen when she examined my nude body, from what she had told me later; how my skin was so creamy and fair; and how that contrasted with the dark red-black "Vamp" nail polish on both my fingernails and my toenails and against the gleam of the bright gold anklet double-chains around both my ankles.

"So soft, so tender, so translucent", she murmured against my ear as she held me. "The horse crop first, I really believe, it will make so dramatic dark stripes against your whiteness". I wasn't really listening to her, because her voice was so soft, so filled with what I thought was tenderness that I actually snuggled up against her. I was not even panicked when she put my wrists together in front of me, and fastened them together with some sort of plastic restraint.

"Next time, I'll bring the wrist chains and locks, and put them on you myself. "I'll convince Tyrone that you need to have the gold chains all over your body, in both your nipples and in your labia. You'll look so much more alluring and submissive when you're in full bondage chain regalia. Big T has been too patient with you, you need to learn to obey, submit and submerse yourself in his desires."

I nodded dreamily, as if this was some waking dream, where T's fantasies for me were beginning to come true. Momma D pulled me to my feet and led me to the back room, the one that T had always kept locked. As I was pulled through the door, I realized that the room had an outside entrance.

I became aware that, although there was only one small spotlight on in the room, there were other people in the room. There was a metal stand, like parallel bars in front of the spotlight with hooks hanging down from the top line of metal bars. I wondered why I was there, and who the other people were and why they were there. Momma D told me to open my mouth and then she put a rubber mouth restraint piece in, and gagged me. I was beginning to feel panicky and scared, but it was too late.

Momma D told me later that she had given me a dose of diazepam just before I went to bed so that I would not be so panicky this first time. Momma D led me over to the bars and lifted my bound wrists up toward the hook. Someone from behind me picked me up at the waist and hooked the plastic cords around my wrists over the metal hook, so that my toes barely touched the thick carpeting. I tried to move, but only succeeded in rotating around as the metal hook turned around in the metal stand. I later learned that this was to be my primary and regular whipping frame.

I saw Momma D standing in front of me, swishing something through the air toward me. I thought that it look like a riding crop, and just as the first searing pain lanced across my breasts, I remembered what Momma D had said earlier: "The horse crop first, it will make such dramatic dark stripes against your whiteness".

I screamed against the rubber gag in pain and fear, and turned and twisted trying to get away from the whip, but it just kept slashing against me, my breasts, my buttocks, my thighs, anywhere my body happened to be as Momma D swung with all her strength again and again and again.

"Take her down", I dimly heard someone say. "I want to fuck her mouth."

As Momma D and her helper took me down, I stumbled and fell down to my knees, from fear and yes, relief as well. Momma D took my chin, and removed the rubber mouth gag piece; and lifted my gaze from the floor to what was in front of my eyes. I could see that there were at least two different men in front of me, but all I could see of them in the dim light was the gleam of their penises, outside their pants, already erect and ready for me from seeing me whipped. I knew what I had to do, so I just closed my eyes, moved my head forward and impaled my mouth on the first penis that I touched.

In a strange way, that I was becoming more and more accustomed to, I was comforted by the feel, the smell and the taste of the hard gristly dick that my tongue licked around. I clamped my lips around his dick, and realized that not only did I not have any idea whose dick I was sucking, but more surprising and importantly, it didn't matter to me. I began sucking and licking at the same time, just like the mouth fucking motions I knew Big T preferred. Maybe if I keep them busy, they won't want to see me whipped again. That part, at least, turned out to be vain hope.

At least while I'm sucking, however, they won't whip me. The faceless stranger, holding my head to his use, begins to screw my mouth with long deep strokes that gag me. I know, however, that I must let him use me as he will, until at last, he begins to spurt big gobs of his creamy cum in my mouth. I swallow as fast I can, because I know that he is but the first of many that night.

Momma D told me later that I blacked out momentarily, after she had whipped me about 10 to 12 times. She actually praised me for being able to tolerate so much that first time. She said that it showed her how strong I was, and how much the pain would come to mean to me. I thought she was crazy and told her so, but now I have begun to wonder. Momma D also told me that 4 different men had used me that night, cumming both in my mouth or my asshole.