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disneydeb1928 · 2 years

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PLL Original Sin: The Night of Karen's Party

The Sequence of Events that we have up to this point.

(Where this takes place chronologically: We know, from Imogen, that the Party took place in "March". In Episode 7, we see the flyers for the carnival have the year "2022" on them, despite the days of the week and the dates matching that of 2020. We'll just have to ignore that huge inconsistency for the sake of sanity. From the timing of how Imogen's pregnancy has been framed - it seems to indicate that the party was held in the later half of March. Therefore, from what we know that place's Karen's house party between March 15-March 30.)

Day 1 - Night - Kelly Beasley's House Party.

Karen loses her virginity to Greg. (1x02: Spirit Queen) -> Explanation: When they meet at the cemetery, Karen tells Imogen, that "earlier that night" from when they fought about her kissing Greg, Karen lost her virginity to Greg.

Imogen, Karen, and Kelly discuss the need for more alcohol, and Imogen volunteers to convince Greg to get more since he and Karen are fighting. (1x02: Spirit Queen)

Noa and Shawn are already at the party. (1x02: Spirit Queen)

Tabby and Chip arrive at the party. She tells him to get them some drinks. He approaches someone - it's SHAWN and asks where he got what he's drinking. (1x02: Spirit Queen)

Imogen finds Greg in a bedroom to relay Karen's message about wanting more beer. However, he begins to make a move on her. (1x02: Spirit Queen)

[NOTE: We never actually see what happened. I feel like that's important]

In the kitchen, Karen is doing a shot when Kelly rushes over and whispers something in her ear about Greg and Imogen. Karen storms through the house and confronts Imogen, who tries to defend herself, but it’s no use. And Kelly supposedly saw them together. Karen calls her a slut and demands her to get out. (1x02: Spirit Queen)

[NOTE: Notice that the vodka that Imogen will later recall taking to the beach can be seen on the right side of the table as they argue. (I apologize for the photos qualities)]

Imogen walks down the driveway and then pauses, cursing under her breath. She goes back inside the house. (1x02: Spirit Queen)

Imogen goes back inside the party for her sweater. However, when she does, she overhears Karen and Tyler in her bedroom. Imogen rushes to stop them. She covers up Karen and pulls her away from Tyler. Karen says she hates Imogen, which the girl says is fine. Imogen grabs Tyler phone and helps Karen out of the room. Imogen hands Karen off to Kelly and makes sure she’s safe before she leaves. (1x02: Spirit Queen)

Imogen grabs a bottle of Vodka on her way out of Karen and Kelly's home with the intent of going to the beach to drink it alone. This is the last thing she remembers. (1x06: Scars)

[NOTE: There is only about half left in the bottle.]

At some point during these blacked out hours, Imogen is assaulted and conceives her child with an unknown man. (1x06: Scars)

Day 2 - Morning.

Imogen wakes up in pain. Her underwear is gone and there is blood on her dress. (1x06: Scars)

[NOTE: The Vodka bottle is still there. It does appear empty.]

Interviews Touching on the Identity of the Perpetrator:

Lindsay Calhoon Bring, the show's EP confirms that Imogen's pregnancy is a "very important story". "You will know who the father is. It's important, not only to Imogen, but also to the female friendships in the show."

When asked if there had been any clues about the father's identity that viewers may have missed, Bailee Madison had this to say: "I mean, I wouldn’t consider them clues, but I can’t tell you what they are. I would just say pay attention. You really have to go back and rewatch things, and try to pay closer attention to people around them and things like that".

Suspect List:

If we go off what Bailee Madison said - to pay close attention to the people around them", then these are the best guesses:

Shawn Noble -> Was at Karen's House party that night - before he and Noa were dating - and he was drinking. Is a member of the football team, which does not seem to be a good thing in this town. He was also at the party in the woods behind Millwood High when Tabby was assaulted. Plus, in Episode 7, I feel like we've started to see a whole new side of him that isn't so pretty.

Greg -> Was at Karen's House party that night. Greg seemed like the most obvious choice in the beginning of the season. He came on to Imogen during the party and is the reason that she and Karen are no longer friends, as well as 1/2 the reason why Imogen was walking around alone that night (the other half being Kelly). That night was definitely an odd one for Greg. He and Karen supposedly have sex for the first time but then, by the night they're already fighting. I think it's too obvious to have been him, but he's still gross.

Chip -> Was at Karen's House party that night with Tabby. Did not appear to want to be there. Asked Shawn Noble where to get drinks. Was seen watching Karen and Imogen's argument with an interestingly dark expression on his face (seriously, it's weird).

Tyler Marchand -> Was at Karen's House party that night. Clearly is the type to take advantage of vulnerable girls. Was cleared of being involved of Tabby's incident. Currently deceased.

Masked Man/"A" -> Though I do believe these two are completely different people, it is absolutely possible in a world where Alison got pregnant with Emily's kids that they would pull something like that again. The only, is that it just doesn't really fit their M.O. It's all about making the parents suffer, but then killing Davie? Doesn't seem right.

Sheriff Beasley -> I think everyone agrees that he's a deplorable human being and disgusting enough to do it. However, according to Karen, her father and mother were off at a "church retreat". Therefore, that should eliminate him for now - unless new evidence suggests otherwise.

Questions About That Night

Was there something in the vodka or did Imogen just black out from drinking too much of it? -> Implications: Even if someone put something in the vodka, they would have had no idea that Imogen was going to end up with it. Whoever found her, this seems to be an act of opportunity than necessarily anything planned out. Even if Kelly stringed together that entire night and was working with "A" - Greg and Imogen, Karen and Imogen's fight, Tyler and Karen - there would have been no way of knowing what Imogen would do and when. I could be wrong, but it feels like - unlike Tabby's incident - this might not have been a pre-planned event.

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graybeards · 5 years

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A Gentlemen’s Bet

“How about we make things interesting?” John suggested, his chapped lips pressed into a devious sneer. “I’ll give you once last chance. I’ll let you raise me to all in.” His deep voice commanded the room, drawing all eyes to him. He was a real man’s man, pushing 50 with crisp blue eyes, a thick head of gray hair, and a gut stretching the middle of his polo shirt.

I narrowed my eyes and pointed out, “But I don’t have anything else to bet.” Every dollar my wife had let me bring was already in the pot. But he had my attention, even Hank and Greg sidled back up the table to see if I could pull out the win and take home the cash John had already won off them.

John leaned back in his chair, savoring my poorly-concealed desperation, and finally said, “You know, you’ve always had a big mouth. Gossip like a girl and talk a bigger game than you ever bring.” The guys leaned in interestedly, but I was wary. He went on, “So put that mouth in the pot and we’ll settle this.”

“My mouth?” I repeated, baffled.

“If I win, I get to put your big mouth to work on my big dick,” he declared, raising his voice over Hank and Greg’s uproarious laughter.

Rolling my eyes, I said, “Don’t be an asshole. It’s seriously not funny.”

“Yeah. I’m not kidding,” John smugly declared. “Are you in or not?” The whole room went quiet until I could hear my heart pounding. I anxiously inspected my hand, a Jack high straight, and thought of the nearly $2,000 at stake. He was just fucking with me, I thought. He just wanted to rattle me and I wasn’t about to flinch first.

“You’ve got a deal,” I replied. “All-in it is.”

My eyes went wide as he pushed every dollar he’d won into the pot and said, “Let’s see ‘em then.”

I trembled as I lay my cards on the table. I tried to be confident, but my words came out in a whisper, “Jack high straight.” I almost jumped for joy when John frowned, but when our eyes met, the corners of his mouth rose into a grin as he lay down a Queen high straight.

Nobody said a word as John and I stared at each other. He drank in the sight of my crestfallen face and dominated my gaze until I lowered my eyes to the table. John broke out into a gleeful smile and said, “Looks like all’s left is for me to claim my winnings. You guys want to watch?”

Hank and Greg just looked over at me and slowly, horrifyingly smirked. I stood up on shaky legs and stammered, “Well, I should get going. Good game, guys. I had—”

Greg raised a silencing hand. He was the host, a king in his own castle, and he said, “A bet’s a bet, man. You’ve gotta settle up.”

John pushed his chair back and spread his legs, fondling the sizable bulge in his jeans. He suggested, “Why don’t you get the three of us another round of beers before you start, cocksucker?”

Hank nodded in agreement and said, “I’ll actually have a bourbon on the rocks.”

The three men stared at me expectantly until, in a daze, I glided to the bar. They grinned at each other as I poured and returned with a round of drinks. John shook his head when I raised my beer to my lips, and he said, “Now, now, you’ve got work to do so I’ll have that.” The man held out his hand until I reluctantly pressed my glass into it and was rewarded by his deep voice rumbling, “Good boy.”

“Fuck you guys,” I sighed as I sank to my knees at my best friends’ feet as they shuffled their chairs close around me. I scooted forward between John’s widespread legs and reached out toward his belt, but he grabbed my wrist in his powerful hand.

They all chuckled as he said, “Well, aren’t you eager. But I need a little more romancing than that. Why don’t you strip for us, slut?”

“Oh come on,” I protested, but quickly succumbed. I unbuttoned my shirt, slowly revealing a chest still smooth and slender as it was when I was in my twenties. Greg whistled appreciatively and rubbed his hand over his own crotch. I blushed and sighed, but discarded the shirt and went to work on my jeans. It would only get worse when they saw my briefs.

Hank snorted into his bourbon when he caught glimpse of my tight-fitting, bright red briefs, and he taunted, “Damn, I wish my wife wore panties half that nice.” The others murmured in agreement but I just kept my eyes down as I peeled off my jeans.

Stripped down to my briefs, I looked up at John’s mocking face as he slowly shook his head and commanded, “Lose the panties.” I wanted to run, to storm out, but the sternness of the man’s voice as he stared down at me broke my resistance. I pulled my briefs down my legs and threw them aside, finally kneeling naked between my three best friends with my diminutive manhood on display. John smiled with a strange sort of warmth and said, “Perfect.”

It wasn’t the first time any of us had seen each other naked, but it was far different. I was reduced. The three men seemed to swell and tower over me as I became less than. I should have felt humiliated, but mostly I just felt eager. When John nodded his approval and allowed me to unbuckle his belt, I felt a shameful flood of excitement.

His body was warm beneath my fingertips as I struggle to unbutton his jeans and unzip his fly. He lifted himself to let me slide them down around his ankles and reveal a pair of flannel boxers bulging with the John’s still soft and much renowned cock. The wives remarked about it on occasion, in their sideways fashion. We’d all seen it, but only soft. Even so it hung about half a foot down his thigh and I found myself wondering just how much the thing could grow.

I fished him through the fly of his boxers as he gulped down the last drops of my beer and grinned at our buddies. I could feel their hot breath on my shoulders as they leaned in to watch. John’s cock gushed the sweaty, pheromone-rich smell of a long day into my nostrils. I winced at the stench, but my mouth watered nonetheless. His icy eyes met mine as he grabbed his big floppy dick in one hand and the back of my head in the other.

The meaty mushroom at the tip of his shaft squished against my closed lips, smearing them with a sheen of the man’s precum. “Open up, princess,” John demanded.

“Fuck—” I started to say, but he shoved himself inside me and let me feel the immense heft of his manhood depressing my tongue. He pulled me close, burying my nose in his pungent boxers and letting his still-soft cock tickle my throat.

John let out a moan and he grunted, “Damn, his mouth was made for this.”

“It feels good?” Greg asked in a strained, eager voice.

“Like a pussy on his face,” John chuckled. “Those big, full lips are squeezing me and damn… that tongue.” I hadn’t realized what I was doing, but he was right. My lips were massaging the base of his shaft as my tongue teased along its massive underbelly, and with every moment I felt his flesh stiffen and swell. His floppy cock reached down into my throat just before it began to firm up. As he thickened, he stretched me open around him and held my head in his lap. “Fuck. I’m going to bust the biggest nut down his throat.”

“Fuck yeah,” Hank muttered close to my ear, “is it weird that I’m getting hard just watching this?”

“You’re not the only one,” Greg admitted with a laugh. “He looks like a little bitch on his knees like that, doesn’t he?” He put a hand on my back and pushed me harder into John’s crotch as I gagged, sputtering up spit that just lubed his cock. John started fucking my face, holding my head in both hands and using me like a fleshlight.

“He’s actually got a nice ass too,” Hank whispered, grabbing a fistful of my cheek and rubbing a thick finger against my virgin hole. “You ever fuck a girl in the ass?”

John let out a pleasurable sigh before he said, “Jess let me one time, but she barely lasted five minutes before she made me stop.”

Greg laughed and said, “Well, yeah, you’re hung like a fucking moose. I actually spent my whole freshman year fucking my roommate since it beat jerking off when I got horny.”

“Damn,” Hank exclaimed, “that’s a good point. I’ve always wondered what it felt like, but Beth would never go for it.”

John ruffled my hair and said, “I bet this bitch wouldn’t mind having her pussy popped open. What do you think, slut?”

For the first time in almost five minutes, he let me pull my lips up off his cock. Looking down, the enormity of the man finally sunk in as I watched almost nine inches of flesh slide out of me like a perverted magic trick, leaving my throat with a foreign feeling of longing emptiness. I sputtered and protested, “Guys, I’ve never done anything like that. I don’t know about—”

Hank had pulled over an ottoman and Greg grabbed me by the hips and lifted me up off the ground, burying my face against John’s thigh. Hank slid the ottoman under my chest so I was bent over it with my knees hanging just off the ground. He hurriedly came behind me, kicking my feet to the side as he kneeled and hugged his body over mine. He ran his fingers over my ass as he whispered, “Come on, baby. We all see the way you’re slobbering on John. We always wondered about you, and now the secret’s out. It’s gonna feel good. I promise.”

I let out a little moan when Hank rubbed his bulging jeans against my bare ass, and the guys all grinned. John declared, “Sounds like someone’s horny for more cock, Hank. Why don’t you indulge him?” John grabbed me and shoved his dripping wet manhood back down my throat, and I heard the telltale sound of unzipping jeans just before Hank rubbed his slick, hard cock against my clenched hole.

“It helps if you eat him out, especially if he’s a virgin,” Greg offered.

Hank scoffed, “Man, isn’t that a little gross?”

“Naw, man. It’s fucking fun. Here, let me get him ready for you,” Greg said as he pushed him out of the way and knelt behind me. His thick scruff scraped against my smooth cheeks just before he ran his tongue over my hole. Despite myself, I moaned around John’s cock and it just egged the men on. I clenched my fingers into John’s thighs as Greg bashed his tongue against me, battering at the door eager to slide into me. “His pussy tastes fucking great,” he mumbled into me.

In the same moment, John pushed back down my throat and Greg’s tongue breached my unyielding ass. I trembled with the flood of sensation as my friend stretched me open.

“Oh fuck,” John growled through clenched teeth, “he’s milking the shit out of me. I’m gonna cum.” His words didn’t fill me with anger, disgust, or even relief. Instead, my skin tingled with anticipation as I felt his shaft pulse against my lips. A rush of cum flooded into my throat, and when his hand went limp, I pulled back, not out of a desire to escape but an urge to soak my tongue and coat my mouth with the man’s hot, thick seed.

He fed me mouthfuls of the ropy white goop, leaning back in his chair with occasional spasms of pleasure as his potent cock pumped out a fresh burst. All three of the men bellowed taunts and jeers, but I was deaf to everything but the flood filling my stomach. I didn’t even notice when it ended, when I was uselessly suckling at a dry shaft, until John ran his fingers through my hair and pulled my lips close until they were tight around the base of his softening member.

“Is his ass ready?” Hank’s eager voice broke my trance. I suddenly noticed the fullness of Greg’s tongue inside me when he pulled it out and made way. Hank grabbed my hips and used that leverage to power a merciless thrust that sent his cock blowing past my loosened hole into the depths of my virgin tunnel.

I howled around John’s flesh, squirming against the men until Greg mounted me, sitting astride my back to pin me to the ground. My hands scrambled until John grabbed me by the wrists and pressed them to his thighs. I was utterly helpless to Hank’s primal rutting inside me.

“Definitely a virgin,” Greg chuckled as he lay his rigid cock across my back. Hank bottomed out inside me and bucked up against the heavy man atop me, but Greg just let his weight sink down as he smacked his manhood against my soft skin. He snorted, “He’s a good ride though. Nice and spirited.”

John laughed, “He’ll be broken by the time the night’s over.”

“I’ve never fucked a hole like this,” Hank said. “His ass keeps trying to push me out, but it just feels like fucking heaven on my dick.”

“Damn,” John muttered, “I’ll have to try that next time.”

“Right?” Greg agreed. “He’s definitely gonna be our poker pussyboy from now on. Aren’t you, girl?” He patted me on the head. “Kneeling under the table while the men play.”

“Oh man, that’s weirdly hot,” Hank rasped. “I think I’m gonna cum.” His heavy hips slammed into my butt hard enough to leave a bruise, never resting for long.

Greg whipped his cock against my back between strokes and his voice was strained when he said, “I’ll try to finish at the same time.” Hank’s guttural groan came quickly, and Greg echoed it a few seconds later. John humped his soft cock back into my throat and the constant smell of his crotch was blocked from my nose. Hank’s nuts slapped against my ass one last time before his manhood started filling my virgin hole with his breeding juice. A long rope of cum burst from Greg, trailing from the back of my head halfway down my back, and it was followed by many more until warm goo coated my shoulders and neck.

All the while, I could do nothing but wiggle underneath the three men as my rigid little dick spilled its bounty on the ottoman. I wanted to rage, to fight back, but the notion felt so far away at that point. A quiet, but growing, part of me wanted more. It liked this feeling, this humiliation and disempowerment. There’s a peace of mind in submission, and it was proving intoxicating.

It was many minutes before my best friends untangled from my cum-filled and drenched body, standing with flaccid cocks hanging out of their jeans and going on as if nothing just happened. When I slowly rose, Greg’s load traveled down my back in thick rivulets. Hank’s dripped from my stretched hole. John’s settled in my stomach and what was left outside me already dried on my face.

The three regarded me with lascivious grins, no longer seeing me as the fourth amigo, but instead as a dominated bitch to be used. It was a strange feeling, to be finally seen for the person I’ve always known myself to be.

John grunted, “You look like you could use that drink.”

“Yeah,” I said in a small voice with an exhausted smile. “That was pretty intense.”

“Sure thing. I’m just about done with it,” he boomed and lowered his bottle mouth to the tip of his cock. I watched, transfixed, as his stream began to flow, rapidly recycling the beer back into its bottle. Hank and Greg grabbed empties and began brewing their own drinks for me. John just grinned at my forlorn expression until his piss overflowed from the bottle and puddled on the floor in front of him.

John offered the bottle to me but I just shook my head. He laughed and said, “Your choice, but I sure got plenty of pictures of you with my big dick down your throat. Wouldn’t it be a shame if those got around?” I stared down at the offered bottle and hesitantly accepted it. John insisted, “Now let’s see you gulp this one down. We were nice enough to brew you up something and now we want to see you enjoy it.”

I pressed the bottle to my lips, tasting the man’s potent piss on the rim. I paused, and John pressed his fingertips to the bottle and slowly tipped it toward my mouth. The flavor filled my mouth, making me cough and sputter as I struggled to shotgun the warm, bitter drink. They all grinned and laugh, savoring the sight of my ultimate emasculation. I choked on the last gulp.

“Nice job, pussyboy,” Greg praised, patting me on the shoulder as he pressed his bottle into my other hand. “Now drink up. And don’t forget to lick up everything John spilled. Only polite to leave my house clean as you found it.”

Warm bottle against my palm. Perverse grins on my friends’ faces. Seed swishing around my insides. It was all so wrong, but it felt so right, and the only protest I managed to muster was a meekly whispered, “Yes, sir.”

I’d lost the bet, but in truth, I hadn’t put up anything I wasn’t willing to lose.

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vandalsandvagrants · 6 years

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A black BMW 5 Series sped down the winding country road on a gray November late afternoon, taking the curves hard, flashing between the silver-gray trunks of the naked trees, zooming past lion colored corn still standing in the fields. With screeching tires, it turned into the tree lined drive of a stately red brick country house with white pillars holding up the roof of the wide front porch. It rounded the circular drive and pulled to a stop in front of the front door. The driver's door opened, and a woman stepped out, tall, with short red hair, deep green eyes, strong chin, wide sensuous mouth. She wore all black leather, a long trench coat, tight pants, high heeled stiletto knee boots. She mounted the steps leading up to the front door with a fluid athletic stride and rang the bell.

A maid opened the door, greeted her, then ushered her to the family room in the rear of the house where Beth Daniels sat bolt upright in the center of the couch, jaw set, breathing deeply, trembling. Beth was a tall willowy thing, flaxen haired, blue eyed. Thirty years old, stylish to a fault, she wore a white silk pants suit, matching pumps. A bottle of scotch sat on the coffee table in front of her, just opened and three fingers down. An empty tumbler stood beside it.

Her visitor entered, and Beth took a deep breath and asked a question to which she dreaded the answer: "Well Margo, what do you have to tell me? Please don't spare me. I think I know what's coming but I'm a big girl. I can take it."

"Margo sat down on the couch next to her and took her hand. "I have to bring news like this to women much too often and I'll never get used to it. I could have emailed you this video but that would have just been so cold, and I couldn't bear the thought of you having to see it alone. And it's not as bad as you think it is...it's worse."

Beth fought back tears then set her jaw again, poured herself three fingers more and gulped it down. "Let's get it over with."

There was a laptop on the coffee table and Margo inserted a thumb drive and clicked. The video came up on the screen and on the 72-inch LED TV of the home theater that faced the couch. First there was a woman to be seen lying nude upon a bed in what appeared to be a hotel room. Raven haired, olive skinned, curvaceous, big breasted she writhed in apparent lustful anticipation of something and fondled herself between the legs.

Beth gasped and grimaced. "It's Inez! His receptionist! I should have known!"

There was the sound of a door opening and Inez opened her arms to welcome whomever entered. A man walked into the picture, tall, dark haired, broad of shoulder, devilishly handsome. It was Greg, Beth's husband of seven years. They had met in college, married soon after Greg's graduation from law school. Beth's father was a named partner in a major law firm in Chicago and Greg was taken on as an associate, but rose quickly to partner and had taken her father's place upon his passing a year before. Greg and Beth settled in to their stately home to enjoy the fruits of wealth and social status, he the model husband, she the exemplary wife.

A lurid scene now unfolded on the screen. Inez all but leaped from the bed, went to her knees before Greg and undid his pants. She pulled them down to his ankles and then took his jutting nine-inch erection, his pride and joy, into her mouth with a sluttish eagerness. Greg shed his suit jacket, shirt and tie and stood there to enjoy the fellatio, murmuring lewd words urging Inez on. She ran her full lips along the length of him, back and forth. Greg grabbed her long black hair in a bunch behind her head and forced his cock against her gullet. She took it down with a moan of delight and made her throat like a vagina for him, letting him fuck her with abandon until he came with his shaft plunged in full length, pumping his load straight into her hungry belly. She drew back from his cock, licked her lips, then leaned forward to kiss and suck it some more.

Then it was to the bed where a bit more sucking hardened him again. Beth watched, sitting bolt upright, eyes wide in growing rage, fists clenched. Inez rolled to her back. parted her legs and raised her knees in invitation. Greg mounted her and rutted like a beast until he satisfied himself again. After brief rest, it was more sucking to harden him, and Inez went to hands and knees, presenting like a bitch in heat. But this time Greg aligned his shaft with her anus and drove in hard. She took it with ease and pleasure, obviously, no stranger to this act. The tight clutch of her orifice over his length as he rutted soon set Greg off for the final time and then they lay together savoring and talking smut, and worse yet, making Beth the butt of cruel and filthy jokes.

Beth screamed a string of obscenities and flung her glass of whiskey at the TV set, puncturing the screen. It sparked and buzzed and went dark. Margo looked on approvingly at her reaction. These things always worked out best when there was rage rather than grief at first. Then Beth did bend over, arms across her knees, head resting on them as she fell to sobbing. Margo leaned over to hold and comfort her until Beth rose again, the light of fury back in her eyes.

"That bastard! That piece of shit! I gave him everything! Sacrificed my pride, made my body his plaything, let him have his pleasure, never thinking of my own needs. And all to be a dutiful wife, make a happy home for him. I thought it was the right thing to do and the key to a successful marriage. And then he falls for that slut and laughs with her about me behind my back!"

Indeed, Beth had made herself into Greg's personal whore, sparing herself no indignity to please him. She gave him free use of all her orifices, taking him around the world any time he wanted. And he bluntly refused to return any of her favors by going down to give her oral pleasure. She became a bold and brazen hussy, often visiting him at work at lunch time for a quick blow job or better yet bending over his desk to offer her tight anus, letting him fill her rectum with his cum. Then she would walk out the door, wiggling her fanny at him as he watched her go. They would exchange leering grins and conspiratorial winks about what she held inside her as she walked through the office. Little did she know how Inez and Greg laughed at her afterward.

Beth let out another stream of curses as she recalled it all. "I want him destroyed! I want his balls! But damn! What can I do?"

Margo held her shoulders. "I'm here to help you with that Beth. I've been a private investigator for the past ten years, ever since my own husband did the same to me when I was just 25. And there are others like me too. We have formed an organization we call the Aggrieved Wives League. It's devoted to righting wrongs such as you have been the victim of. Beyond that we believe in the subjugation of the male in general. Our common experiences have bonded us in pursuing the broader agenda."

"There's one woman in particular I want you to meet Beth. I work very closely with her. She specializes in situations like this and I've never seen her fail to produce a favorable outcome for the aggrieved party."

She reached into her coat pocket and handed Beth a business card. Beth read it: Magda Szabo: Therapist. Marriage Counseling. Conflict Resolution. Relationship Mediation.

Beth had found Margo Chase in an online search when the signs of Greg's infidelity had become all too obvious; the "working late", the "business trips" the faint scents of perfume and, most of all the lapses in his lust. Trust had been established quickly.

"Go to see her tomorrow Beth. It's best to deal with these things right away and aggressively. Tap into that anger girl! Don't hold back!"

(Two)

Beth called Magda for an appointment as soon as Margo left. Magda had an opening at 10 AM the next morning. Beth found the office easily though it was in a dark and narrow cul-de-sac among the tall buildings downtown. The shapely and muscular brunette receptionist paged Magda who came out to greet Beth and lead her to her office. Magda was a short woman, dark haired, swarthy of complexion, full of figure, an ageless beauty, wide set dark eyes, high cheekbones, aquiline nose, full lips. She wore a black leather dress, low cut and short, fishnet stockings, black stiletto pumps. Her speech was tinged with a slight accent betraying her Hungarian origin.

She sat down behind her desk and offered Beth a chair in front of it. "So, Beth. Margo called me about you last night. She didn't give many details, but I think I know the situation at large. Please fill me in."

Beth poured it out, alternating between rage and tears, finally sobbing and cursing at once. Magda nodded knowingly, a grimace of anger on her face.

"You poor dear. It happens all too often, and it seems I never get inured to it. I always share that rage. That's why I have dedicated my life to resolving these issues favorably for the victims. Before we begin I want to give you some assurance of success by giving you a taste of what life will be like once my work is complete. I guarantee my results and have never had to refund my fees. Come with me now dear."

She stood and turned to a bookcase behind her desk, took it by one edge and pulled. It swung open, revealing it to be a secret door that led down a short corridor to another wooden door, heavy and iron bound, at the other end. Magda opened that door and they entered a stone lined circular chamber perhaps twenty feet across. A gynecologist's examining table was the only furnishing, set in the chamber's center. Directly across the room was another door. Beth looked at Magda in confusion and she explained.

I know this will seem strange Beth but please take your clothes off, lie on the table and make yourself comfortable. Put your feet in the stirrups. Trust me! No harm will come to you child. Quite the opposite, I assure you."

Beth hesitated a moment but then stripped and mounted the table. Magda took her hand reassuringly and looked her over appraisingly.

"My oh my Beth! You are a skinny thing and I see you shave your bush."

Beth blushed. "Greg wants me thin. I've all but starved myself for years. And yes, he made me shave. He said my scent was a turn off."

Magda shook her head. "Typical, typical. He's just like all the others, a squeamish control freak. He wanted a sanitized little Barbie doll and sex plaything. And no doubt his pecker would wilt if he had to confront a real woman. But these issues will be dealt with in due course. Now Beth. It will be necessary to turn out the lights. Please just relax."

Margo let go of her hand and went to the switch on the wall. Utter blackness fell. Beth thought she heard the door behind her swing open and there was a soft shuffling sound and a faint clink of chains. Then she felt a smooth soft orb press itself between her thighs and a tender worshipful caress to her pussy. She flinched at first but then shuddered in delight as the caresses continued in a way that spoke of intimate knowledge in pleasing woman. She reached down to find the head of what she presumed to be a man between her legs. She groped about it finding it to be shaven smooth as a baby's behind, save for a ring that seemed to be braided into a top knot on the head. And she knew it was a tongue that caressed her with knowing skill. There was nothing to do but yield to the pleasure of it, this selfless act which she had been denied her whole life. She hooked a finger in the ring and used it to guide the attentions to the spots that aroused and pleased, soon feeling the unfamiliar welling up of orgasm. The tongue went to her clit and wriggled just so until a surge of ecstasy burst from the core of her being, pulsing out to engulf her body. She lurched and convulsed, making an animal sound that ended in a breathy grunt of shameless satisfaction.

The head withdrew, the lights turned on. She sat up to see Magda standing there with an approving look on her face. Beside her stood Margo, beaming. Looking down she saw a naked man kneeling between them, head bowed in submission. There was indeed a ring braided into a lock of hair on his otherwise shaven pate. The number 11 was tattooed in large characters on his forehead. A heavy gold ring was pierced crosswise into the tip of his penis with a chain leash clipped onto it. The cock was fully erect and jutting straight up despite the weight of the ring. She looked back and forth in confusion mingled with a budding joy and Magda spoke.

"He never did that for you, did he? I know the type. Most of my clients have the same issue. I want to assure you dear that this will become a routine part of your life and there will be much more as well. Now let's go back to the office and we'll talk about how to deal with your so-called model husband."

Beth followed her from the chamber' neck craning back to look again at the naked slave who Margo led away by the dick through the rear door. She found her legs a bit wobbly from the effect of her orgasm, but the afterglow was sweet and there was already a hunger for more. Margo wasted no time getting down to business.

"Our therapy involves far more doing than talking. First, we'll have your husband brought in here. I'm sure Margo can arrange it by tomorrow evening. Please go back home now and return here at 8 PM tomorrow. Then the work can truly begin."

Beth went home. Greg had used a business trip as his pretext for not coming home the night before, but she knew now what he had been up to. But he didn't come home that night either and Beth suspected it was Margo and Magda's doing. She returned to Magda's office the next evening after a day of burning curiosity and anticipation. Magda led her down a long corridor that opened from another door off her waiting room into a much larger circular chamber, an amphitheater with seats for about fifty in a semicircle around a stage. A block and tackle hung above stage center, a hook with a clasp at the end of its rope. Along the back wall were hung various whips, restraints and other implements, some clearly to be used for torture and others for pleasure.

Magda led Beth to a throne at the center of the front row and offered it to her, then seated herself in a similar but smaller one beside it. Margo entered the room naked but for her knee boots. Magda stood and stripped down to her stockings garters and pumps and invited Beth to undress as she pleased as well. Beth stripped naked but slipped her feet back into her black pumps. Her heart hammered, and she felt warm and wet in her crotch, though not knowing what to expect.

Then more women of all ages races shapes and sizes filed in through the door and began filling the seats, all in various modes of nudity. Everyone settled in and Magda clapped her hands as a signal for the proceedings to begin.

A door in the wall on the left swung open and a naked black woman emerged from it. She was the shade of fine dark chocolate, well over six feet tall even without her high heeled boots, with rippling muscles, broad shoulders and hips, narrow waist, big firm breasts. Her hair was in long cornrows. A thick nappy bush was framed by her comely thighs. She held a chain leash in one hand and as she stepped into the room she tugged on it, pulling a naked man by the balls behind her. It was Greg, cuffed and in leg irons, shuffling along as she yanked him by his swollen purple balls to where Beth sat with mouth agape. He was made to kneel at her feet. Magda spoke.

"Here he is dear. Now conflict resolution and relationship mediation can commence. This is Toya. She is, shall we say, one of our facilitators. How would you like her to begin?"

Beth felt a thrill of enraged contempt as Greg looked to her with pleading in his eyes. She felt not a whit of pity for him and as she looked to the wall where the whips hung only one thought came to her mind. Her lip curled in contempt.

"String him up and whip him!"

Greg quailed and cowered, pleading with her. "No! Beth! Please! She's nothing to me! You're the one I love! It was all a big mistake and I'm so sorry. I'll fire her immediately and never see her again. Please forgive me!"

Beth dismissed his self-serving words with a wave of her hand.

Toya had just one question: "By the wrists or by the ankles?"

"The ankles!"

Toya grabbed Greg by the hair and dragged him across the stage like a rag doll to the hoist as he blubbered more pleas and apologies. She lowered the hook, slipped it onto the chain of his leg irons and hoisted him aloft easily with her powerful arms so he hung upside down, swinging, then unleashed his balls. Greg whimpered and sniveled, a shameless coward. Toya went to the wall and selected a pair of six-foot snake whips. She went to where Greg hung and gave him a push. There was a ball bearing above the hook that allowed her to get him spinning freely upside down, helpless and disoriented. Then she stepped back and unlimbered the whips. Beth's jaw dropped in awe at her skills. The two whips whirled in a blur and she landed each lash with a flick of her wrist that made the whip's tip snap fiercely on Greg's tender pampered hide. Some of the lashes bit his dangling junk and it was clear the lashes were deliberate, and each brought a howl of torment.

Toya gave Greg another spin and worked her way around him. Crisscrossed welts now covered his body. Toya spoke to Beth without ceasing her whipping.

"Just say when Beth. Let me know when you think he's suffered enough...for now!"

Beth felt no pity. "Give him another spin!"

Toya complied, redoubling the cadence of her lashes. Beth let her continue until the spinning ceased and raised her hand to signal Toya to stop.

Magda put a hand on Beth's shoulders.

"What would please you now dear? Anything you want. Other tortures are available. Just say the word."

Beth felt a warm wet itch between her legs and a pulsing fullness. She recalled the cunnilingus from the day before and her body screamed silently for release.

"Bring him here to me! On his knees. But don't unhook him. I want him to eat my pussy!"

Toya lowered him and dragged him by the hair to kneel in front of Beth. He whimpered and blubbered, tears falling, pleading in his eyes. But Beth's heart only hardened. She lifted her legs and parted them, rested her ankles on the arms of the chair

"You miserable worthless lying bastard! Now you're going to do for me what you denied me for years! Come here and lick me and you better make me come and soon. And, you will lick my asshole too or you're getting hung up again!"

Toya shoved Greg's face into Beth's cunt. He recoiled at first instinctively but a sharp flick of the whip on his behind reminded him of the consequences of refusal and he stuck out his tongue and began to lick. But he was clumsy and reluctant. Beth's lip curled in disgust and she pointed to the hoist in wordless command that he be strung up and whipped some more. Toya stepped over to the rope and hauled away, dragging Greg back over the floor and then up again. He sniveled pleas for mercy and another chance, but Beth's heart was still a stone.

Toya whirled her whips. "Just say 'when' again Beth!

Beth smiled, a cruel glint in her eyes, and nodded. "Please proceed!"

Again, the searing lashes bit Greg's hide but this time he broke down quickly and Beth gave the signal to halt.

Beth parted her legs to offer her cunt again and Toya dragged him to her. This time he buried his face in her wet nookie in desperation, licking with abandon and begging for forgiveness. She pushed his head down and offered her anus to his mouth and he licked it in abject submission. He had no skills at pleasuring but his terror and the sense of power it gave her sufficed. She grabbed his hair and twisted while forcing his face hard into her cunt, making him suck her clit until she came with a triumphant snarl and an earthy grunt of animal satisfaction, then dug her spike heels into his shoulders and shoved him back and away. Report Story

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