Dr Allens New Patient Ch 15

"Shit", uttered a dumbfounded Colin.

"Yeah", Vincent echoed his buddy's sentiments.

"So, have you tried hooking up with her?" Colin had all the gall.

Vincent slowly turned his head to glare at his friend.

"I guess not."

A few minutes of silence passed, as the two young men looked out beyond the hill towards the San Francisco skyline. The city seemed like a whole separate world out there, full of office buildings and executives, commercial centers and shoppers, art galleries and artists. Downtown seemed so far removed from their cozy little neighborhood.

"Well, wanna go in and talk to Mrs. Perry about the room?" Vincent steered the conversation back to why Colin came over.

"Sure, why not?" answered his friend, still slightly shook; in Colin's mind were endless questions about Sally, questions Vincent apparently didn't feel like answering.

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In the room of "Special Purpose", Sally stood patiently facing the wall, hands tied to the hook suspended above her head. She was waiting for instructions.

BDSM's blood was boiling from the indignation Sally had just demonstrated- she had the audacity to look directly at him. Now, with the flogger in hand, he was ready to fulfill his ultimate desire: to whip the hell out of his subject. He gripped his tool tightly, took a deep breath, and let rip...

Sally gasped as the flogger violently slashed her back. She also heard a loud grunt from her Dom.

However, not yet sensing the fear he was expecting in his Sub's voice, BDSM drew back the flogger even further and took a deeper breath. He would now be more forceful, more ruthless.

His next strike elicited a louder shudder, as Sally was no longer able to remain silent. There, he thought, that was better. He wanted to hear horrible screams. He reminded himself that he had all night to revel in his Sub's anguish. So he whipped and whipped, each strike more violent than the previous. Pink marks soon began appearing on Sally's back, neck, and shoulders. BDSM wondered if she was crying yet.

"Now look at me", he instructed.

Sally, by now trying to catch her breath, looked back at her Dom. Her desperate eyes shone the pain she was finally experiencing, but there were still no tears.

Angry that he hadn't yet reaped the rewards of inflicting merciless pain on his subject, BDSM decided he would switch to a more textured flogger, one with spikes. He calmly walked back to the rack housing the switches, and grabbed the one providing the sharpest pins. He then walked slowly back to his victim.

"Let's see how you fair with this one, my dear..." he muttered quietly, and suddenly, without heaving a deep breath to draw back, he let loose, striking Sally with what seemed like never-ending lashes.

The individual welts seemed a long continuous one to Sally, although the exact count was seven. "This must be what God has in store for me. I need to be punished for my previous sins, sins committed in a prior life", she figured. Her back had been stinging for a while now, and with each second passing, the burns on her delicate skin seemed more like fire mixed with acid. At this point, her back was entirely bloody.

To Sally's surprise, liquid began trickling out of her pussy. Whatever sensations her back was feeling, her lower region was apparently going through its own ecstasy.

BDSM delighted in the terror he imposed on his subject, who had not so much as uttered a single word pleading leniency, nothing to hint she wanted him to ease up.

Needless to say, his cock was throbbing like crazy, and although Sally had not shed a tear yet, BDSM reckoned his balls couldn't hold his cum much longer.

"I shall now fuck the life out of you. You must be 'broken in'. And then we'll see how well you hold up under this treatment", he indicated as a challenge, and calmly walked back to the rack to return his flogger. Just as calmly, he returned, stopping to inspect Sally's face; still no tears; not a one.

No matter, he thought, as he reached up to release her hands, when he noticed the anticipated relief Sally's expression failed to disguise. While her eyes looked expectantly at the hook holding her arms above, Sally inadvertently showed her true feelings, and BDSM suddenly decided he wouldn't allow such satisfaction.

"No, Sally, no relief for you. You need to know what true torture is", he declared softly, with a sinister grin, making it clear he in no way intended her to get any joy from this encounter.

Sally's heart sank. But in the back of her mind, she was reminded that this suffering was to be endured. In fact, she saw it as cathartic, to help deliver her from the karma incurred in a past life, when she was a beautiful but heartless woman. She was convinced she deserved cruel punishment, and the more she suffered, she reasoned, the more she was fulfilling her karmic debt. No wonder she was born unattractive. God made her this way on purpose, to learn the all too real lesson of society valuing a woman's looks over her pure heart. This was God's special plan for her.

BDSM began to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants (apparently the vintage Civil War uniform was authentic, and zippers were not widely used back then). Once his dick was fully exposed, it couldn't have been more rigid, ready to jab violently into a tight hole. At that instant he recalled how wet Sally's cunt had been at their first encounter. He wondered if it could get that way this time around, or if the torment he inflicted had hindered things somewhat.

"Spread your legs", he instructed with quiet authority.

Sally was still fully dressed in the drab slave dress and bonnet. Like a suspect ready to be frisked by a police officer, she did as instructed, careful to resist her natural inclination to look back at her Dom.

"I own your cunt, you got that?" he demanded more feverishly at this point, lifting up her voluminous tattered skirts, and then yanking down her white cotton panties.

No response from his frail subject. "Answer me, Sally", he demanded.

"Yes, Sir," she managed weakly, and wondered how he would react upon discovering the moistness of her underwear, all produced during the punishment.

"This is my lot in life", Sally reminded herself, by this point unable to feel the skin on her back. "This is probably the only way I'll get any attention from a good-looking successful man my age. Otherwise, I'll either have to pay a fortune for dick, or go to a cold alley to fuck a homeless man."

BDSM didn't know what to think once he found out how drenched Sally had become. In fact, he breathed in the familiar scent of her juices, just as strong as they were the last time he saw her. Truth be told however, he didn't give a shit whether or not her snatch had moistened up, for he had no regard whatsoever for her pleasure, only his own.

Because part of her body had already gone numb from the flogging, Sally only slightly felt BDSM thrust up inside her; although she clearly heard his primal moans.

Sally's hole felt tight as fuck, but BDSM's cock slid easily in, what with all the lubrication her plentiful juices provided.

"Yeah, take it all, you nasty little slut! This is what you came here for, isn't it, you filthy whore! Trash, your snatch has been begging for a good banging this whole time, hasn't it?" And because he had been edging for at least an hour or so, with only a handful of thrusts, BDSM felt himself about to explode.

The way things looked, he was indeed succeeding in fucking the life out of his Sub.

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Sally sat silent and solemn in the Uber, careful not to lean back, lest the blood on her back seep through her coat and stain the car's interior. She peered out the window to look out at the night sky. It looked as dark as ever, which was to be expected, as it was still raining. The driver was careful not to exceed the safe speed limit, as the roads were still slick.

The car exited the complex and turned out onto the street, heading back towards the boarding house. Sally figured the ride home would take a little longer than usual. Staring vacantly out the window, she contemplated her life, thoughts running rampant, "How am I going to leave the house now, since I don't have a job anymore? Not to mention all that cash I had managed to save up, now all in Sebastian's pocket". Sally lamented at the recklessness with which she had been living her life. "And all of my inheritance money, all in Trevor's hands", she quipped, resentful that her parents made her big brother the executor of their will and estate. Except for her aunt, Sally had no intentions of seeing her family again, or returning to the big house she grew up in. "Fuck that shit", she thought, as she hated living under the tyrannical eye of her brother after their parents died. She even resolved to quit college after having completed less than a year, because she couldn't take being under Trevor's 'supervision" any longer. Sally let out a wistful sigh of despair, "What is God's plan for me now?"

Walking absentmindedly into the house, she closed her umbrella and walked quietly across the living room, careful not to wake up her housemates. She started up the long staircase, and had to hold especially tight onto the bannister, for fear of losing her footing, dizzy and weak as she was feeling. The last few hours with BDSM seemed like a blurry fog.

She finally made it to her bedroom, and carefully took off the trench coat. It took considerable effort, as her backside had become scarred and swollen beyond recognition. Then, she plopped face down onto the bed.

After a minute or two, Sally sat up and immediately felt a sense of urgency; she had to clean up the blood, semen, and sweat covering her entire body. The fluids had been drying up and began feeling crusty on her skin. Suddenly, Sally was reminded of the time she had come home from her ordeal with Damian.

"Better get used to the blood and pain, if you're going to be with BDSM", she told herself, and then she put on her bathrobe, grabbed clean pajamas, a couple of towels, and numerous disinfectant wipes and cotton balls. She quickly made her way through the corridor to the bathroom, but unexpectedly ran into a young man she didn't recognize. Their eyes locked for an awkward second, after which she continued down the hall to clean up.

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Vincent was finishing his breakfast when his new roommate sauntered into the kitchen, apparently still in the process of waking up.

"Where's the Java, dude?" Colin called out, plunking his backpack down on the floor. He looked gruff and sounded scruffy, although he was already dressed for school.

"Right over there", Vincent pointed towards Mrs. Perry's coffee maker by the sink.

"Man, I ran into that chick upstairs last night", Colin informed his buddy, "and she looked like she'd been through some crazy shit".

"I don't wanna know about it, dude", indicated a slightly annoyed Vincent, finishing up his coffee.

"Alright, man, calm down. Take a chill pill", Colin retorted, pouring himself a cup. He sat down at the table and took a sip, "Damn! This stuff should have an octane rating."

"I gotta bounce", Vincent indicated without looking at his friend, and hastily got up from the table.

"Whoa man, can't you wait a few minutes? I'm only gonna have coffee and a muffin, and then I'm good to go".

"Nah, I gotta go see my advisor before class", Vincent explained, already out the kitchen door.

Colin sat at the huge table alone, forced to have breakfast in silence, since all the other boarders had already left for the day. He had little choice but to observe the old kitchen in his new place of residence. The wallpaper, cabinets, floors, and light fixtures all hearkened back to the heyday of San Francisco more than a century ago. It was a big space, because it needed to be, what with Mrs. Perry's numerous boarders filling up the building, no matter what time of year it happened to be. In fact, the house was one of the grandest on the block, and it was exceptionally well maintained, because Mrs. Perry always kept a good relationship with her plumber, painter, carpenter, and repairman. What's more, she allowed her boarders free use of her pots and pans, cutlery, plates, and all the basic food items in her fridge. Not surprisingly, most of Mrs. Perry's boarders were screened very carefully before moving in, so as to ensure a calm and peaceful lodging while they pursued their studies, careers, and whatever else they aspired to do in life. Because all the bedrooms were so coveted, and the price was so reasonable, there was hardly ever a vacancy in the house.

Ever curious as to what actually went down between his buddy and the female roommate, Colin wondered why Vincent was so uptight whenever Sally's name came up, as it wasn't like his friend to be so evasive. Yeah yeah, the girl liked fucking men on the street and got slapped around, but why should that freak Vincent out to the point of changing the subject every time her name was mentioned?

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Riding the bus to school, Vincent looked out blankly at the historic houses and old trees lining the street. Then, almost without warning, the bus veered down an especially hilly patch of road, and he quickly grabbed onto a pole to keep his balance; it was standing room only on the usually crowded morning commute.

Try as he might, he couldn't steer his mind away from what Colin had said earlier. Reluctant to admit it, Vincent's thoughts reverted back to Sally an awful lot these days. He especially remembered the unpleasant conversation the two of them had that one evening Sally came home from work. She had let him into her room for the first time in over a year of sharing the same house. Remembering the white cotton panties on the floor next to her bed and the little bookcase in the corner near the window, Vincent recalled the conversation they had in Sally's modest bedroom. As he distinctly recalled the discussion turning quite ugly, again he felt his cock harden up; this at the memory of Sally spewing insults at him a hundred miles an hour, pegging him as a pathetic loser. He was confused why his body had reacted that way, and why it still had that strange effect on him, especially at the hands of such a quiet little girl.

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Sally woke up feeling like hell, not much of a departure from what she had been through the night before. Needless to say, she hadn't slept much. Her neck, shoulders, and back felt like they had been burned by a branding iron. Her pussy felt raw, dry and sore. And, if that weren't enough, her head throbbed mercilessly, so much that she surmised it was probably what a hangover felt like.

Notwithstanding all the pain, however, she wasn't one for lingering in bed too long, not even on weekends. She immediately reminded herself of the predicament she was in now, unemployed. What's more, she had no money saved up. "Should I look for another office job?" she wondered. "Or should I try to go back and finish college? But then I'd have to ask Trevor for money." She reflected for a minute. "No chance in hell he'd give me a cent, without demanding I move back home, and sooner or later he'd resume making me feel like the black sheep of the family, not measuring up to his standards. Hell-no." Sally was shaking her head as if someone else had suggested the idea to her. She thought some more, "Well, maybe Auntie would be willing to help; she's always been supportive of me, and never judgmental. But then she'd also be trying to set me up on blind dates, and I can't go through that all over again..."

Then it occurred to Sally, "Maybe, I'm meant to do something else in life, something new altogether?" The poor girl earnestly searched for the right path to take in her chaotic life.

Eventually, she knelt down beside her bed, clasped her hands together, and closed her eyes in concentration. She decided she would ask the Lord for guidance; surely he would point her in the right direction.

"Dear Lord, it's me again. I know I usually call on you right before bed, but I really need your help..."

After she said her special prayer, Sally got up and again was acutely reminded of the pain BDSM had "gifted" her. She strained to stand up straight. As if she were getting ready for work, she washed up, dressed, and headed downstairs for breakfast.

Thinking she would feel better after some food in her stomach, she reached the kitchen. However, before she could even entertain the possibility, she ran into a housemate.

"Oh shit", she muttered in dread. It's that boy again, the one from the hallway last night. Then, she finally realized he was the one standing out in front of the house with Vincent the morning she quit her job.

Colin looked up from his muffin, "Oh, Hi", he said in his usual friendly manner.

"Hi", she answered modestly, thinking she should have turned around to head back upstairs before he spotted her. Sally didn't feel like talking to anyone at the moment, least of all one of Vincent's obnoxious buddies.

"I'm Colin, your new housemate. I'm in Mary's room, well not with her in it... 'cause... uh... as you know she uh... moved out... I'm Vincent's friend", he stood up to offer her a handshake.

Sally simply nodded, not shaking his hand, and not giving a rat's ass whose friend he was. She just wanted to grab some coffee and yoghurt, and go back upstairs to the privacy of her own room.