Based on a friend of mine for whom pain is an aphrodisiac.
*****
BACKGROUND - I'd lost touch with Mandi after remarrying and moving to a new state, but she was frequently in my mind because she was such an unusual pain freak. We'd worked together at a major corporation in Atlanta when I was still married to my fat, bitchy ex. Mandi was attractive, some 15 or so years my junior, divorced, and brilliant. Perhaps it was her high I.Q. that helped us bond, but it was her beautiful face, sexy eyes, and superb tits that initially attracted me to her. We would occasionally go to lunch together, and I let her know I thought she was attractive. One thing led to another, and after one of our lunches she offered to let me fuck her if I wished. Shortly after we began having phone sex at night after my alcoholic ex had fallen into another of her late night stupors.
While masturbating together one night during one of these calls Mandi shared with me that she had been raped. She said it happened in a downtown parking garage. She'd seen the man lingering near the stairwell, and briefly considered his presence as potentially threatening, but decided to take the stairs anyway. He'd followed her, grabbed her, and held a knife to her throat while he raped her. She said she was so stunned by it all she just continued on to work as though nothing had happened, which I found very odd. I asked why she didn't report it, and she said, "Oh they would have said I probably had been looking to get raped by putting myself in the position I had." I told her that was crazy, but she said it's how she had felt and we moved on to another topic.
During another of our phone sex evenings she told me her ex-husband had once whipped her with a wire coat hanger. That actually became the basis for a story I wrote here, because when I asked her how she felt about it she told me she had never come so hard in her life.
"You like to be whipped?" I asked.
"Yeah," she replied in a sexy voice, and I could hear the wet sounds of her fingers in her pussy over the phone. "I do," she added, close to coming now.
"Would you want me to do that? To whip you?" I asked.
"Yes. I'd love it!" she'd moaned.
"Where? On your ass? Your back? Where, Mandi? Where would you want me to whip you before, or perhaps, as I'm fucking you?" I groaned, close to coming myself then.
"Everywhere... on my ass... my thighs... on my... my TITS!" she whimpered.
"With my belt, Mandi? Would you want me to whip your tits with my belt?" I asked.
"Yes!" she hissed. "AND ON MY CUNT, TOO!" she moaned, and I could hear her slapping herself there now, after which we both came.
CHAPTER 1. REUNION
Fairly soon after that I introduced her to a friend of mine, they hit it off and were married. Then one day he called and asked how I'd like a threesome with them. I said I'd be delighted, so we did it. I've already written about that, how she purposely hadn't showered before I joined them so her pussy would smell rank for me, a preference I'd shared with her during one of our phone sex sessions (and that IS how I like pussy... rank... fragrant... juicy... and delicious).
So I sucked her cunt while her husband watched, after which he fucked her while she sucked my cock. I didn't have a lot of time... it was a Sunday morning while my ex was in church... so I came in her mouth rather than fucking her, which she enjoyed. Afterward she asked her husband if he didn't think she needed to be "punished" for letting me come in her mouth. He said to me, "I don't really get this, but she likes it," and then began slapping her ass while she stared directly at me, her eyes half-open, filled with lust as she came while he spanked her.
I got divorced shortly after our threesome, met my current wife online, moved away from Atlanta, and lost track of Mandi. Then on a business trip to New York I ran into her again. We were staying in the same hotel, and she was as happy to see me as I was to see her. Like me, she'd divorced my friend and we both knew how the evening would end. My wife and I have a rather open marriage in which either of us can have sex with other people when we're away from home... just not in our own little town... so when Mandi suggested we have dinner together I of course agreed.
We dined in the hotel, consumed a nice bottle of Pinot Noir with dinner, and as our conversation turned to sex I said I had some personal questions I wanted to discuss with her if she would be okay with it.
"Of course. What is it?" she asked.
"I've often thought about how much you enjoy pain and it occurred to me that perhaps that day in the parking garage there was a chance that you went into the stairwell knowing you might be attacked. Is that crazy?" I asked.
"It happened again," she said. "After you moved away. I'd worked late, and was driving home around ten at night. I admit I was in a dry period when it came to sex and for some reason decided to take a short cut through a bad section of town. It was stupid of me, because two black men came up to my car at a stop light and forced their way inside. I hadn't locked my car doors, and then got in and made me drive them to a deserted area. They had me park the car, then made me get into the back seat with them. They ripped off my blouse and bra, and my panties, and took turns raping me most of the night. I lost track of how many times I blew each of them, in between the raping." Then, and this was her exact quote, she said, "I sure showed those two guys a great time that night."
"So you've been raped by three men," I observed. "Once in a stairwell you knew might be dangerous, and then by these two black men while driving through what you knew to be a potentially dangerous area. Is that correct?" I asked politely.
"I guess that's right," she said, staring at me, her eyes sparkling. "Why? Are you accusing me of having done it on purpose?" she asked.
"Did you?" I replied softly.
For a long moment she said nothing, as though trying to decide how to answer me. Then she said, "I suppose that's exactly what I may have done. But if so, why do you think I would have ever done anything like that?"
"Let me ask you this," I began. "Your father moved in with you and Bill before I left Atlanta. Yet you never call him 'Dad' or 'Father.' You always call him by his first name, right?"
"Yes," she replied cautiously. "So?"
"So I think he molested you, didn't he, Mandi. When you were a kid, which is why you call him by his name, not 'Dad.'"
"Is that what you think?" she asked, her face instantly reddening.
"I'm just hypothesizing. I didn't say he did. And you haven't answered the question," I said as the waiter arrived with my receipt.
"Let's continue this in your room," I said.
"Are you going to finally fuck me?" she asked, as we got up to leave the restaurant.
"Of course," I said. "But I'm going to whip you first, Mandi. Just as we discussed on the phone a few years ago. I'm going to whip you on your tits, your stomach, your ass, and on your spread thighs and cunt...and then I'm going to rape you."
I thought she might literally fall to the ground at that moment. Her knees buckled, and she let out a little mewing sound, and grabbed my arm to steady herself.
"It's what you want, isn't it?" I said quietly as we walked toward the elevators of our hotel.
"Yes!" she hissed. "God my pussy is wet," she said quietly.
"Good. So let's go up and do something about that," I said. And we did.
In her room I told her to strip for me, slowly, while I watched. "Unless you would prefer me to rip your clothes off you like your black rapists did," I said.
She stared at me a moment, and then said, "Do it. Rip my clothes off. Rape me like they did." And so I did it.
"This blouse looks expensive," I said, approaching her.
"It was. Do it anyway. It will turn me on more to know you're ruining my clothing!"
So I stood walked over in front of her and said, "Hold your arms above your head." She did it and move my hand onto the top of her blouse. Then I ripped it open, tearing off some of the buttons of the silk top.
"You bastard," she snarled.
"Shut up, CUNT!" I said, slapping her face.
