Sexual Surface Tension

INTRO: THE NAKED PATIENT

Sanctus Dei Psychiatric Asylum

Admission Report

Attending Psychiatrist: Dr. Masson

Name: Katrina P. Status: Patient admitted voluntarily; Arrived unclothed, disoriented, exhibiting signs of acute psychological distress.

26 y/o female. BMI dangerously low. Suspected anorexia nervosa.

History of auditory and visual hallucinations involving fictitious persons or entities--previously inconclusive.

Prescribed Olanzapine, Fluoxetine--noncompliant. Current medication status unknown.

No confirmed prior diagnosis. Patient self-reports schizophrenia, dissociative identity disorder--unverified. No formal psychiatric diagnosis on record.

Admitted following acute anxiety attacks. Presenting as depressive, suicidal ideation noted.

Delusional symptoms: claims skin is covered in blue-green paint. Possible tactile hallucinations.

Initiated on Risperidone, Lorazepam for agitation. Fluoxetine for depressive symptoms.

Diagnosis pending full psychiatric evaluation.

ONE: HIS KITTY

The previous night we went to dinner in La Coupole, in Montparnasse. The restaurant was intimate and romantic. The waiters, dressed in white uniforms, moved efficiently and with practice, as if invisible -- there but not there. Our romantic candlelit table, next to the large windows, provided a beautiful view of the city.

"Hemingway and Picasso used to come here," Jake said.

On the ride to the restaurant, he told me that we would be going away for the weekend with a group of his friends. I hadn't met them. He spoke about a few of them -- who seemed to have quite lively personalities -- but I couldn't really imagine what their lives were like.

It was all quite vague. As a result, my mind was preoccupied thinking about all that transpired during this past month and now the upcoming weekend. He knew that and seemed to relish in my discomfort and uncertainty. I looked into my wine.

"That's fascinating," I said with lackluster enthusiasm.

He smiled, teasingly. He knew he was being elusive. He kept deflecting the conversation away from my questions about the weekend. He swirled the red wine in the large glass, took a sip, and then leaned back in his chair with a certain arrogance.

I looked down at my body. My nipples were completely visible. I wasn't really dressed for dinner -- well, not properly, at least. The silk blouse was meant to have something underneath, but he hadn't allowed it, and the fabric did little to conceal my hard nipples poking out from my small breasts. My skirt was elegant, but the slit ran high up my thigh, revealing much of my body.

Around my neck, I wore the collar he gave me -- so tight that I felt its constant presence; and with a padlock for which only he had the key. The anal plug was a constant reminder of his control over me.

--

At that moment, I recalled an embarrassing moment the previous week when I went into an erotic store for the first time in my life. Jake took me there. That is when he bought the collar as well as some other items. Just being in the store made me feel so embarrassed and like a cheap whore. That was his idea.

We walked through the aisles of the crowded store. All the men looked at me -- there were very few other women. Jake made me feel the large dildos in the shape of real cocks. My body betrayed my thoughts and I became aroused. He picked up a dildo that was bigger than my forearm. I was mortified and couldn't ever imagine it entering my small hole.

"You will buy this one," he said. "Go ask the guy at the front desk if you can try it here."

I could have died. But, I obeyed. Moments later, I was naked in the back of the store trying our new purchase.

--

Now, across the table, he leaned forward, voice low. "Katrina, show me what you have under your skirt."

I stiffened. My breath caught. "Jake," I whispered, glancing at the other tables around us in the restaurant. "Here?"

"Yes," he responded, his eyes held mine and nodded with amusement. "I'm waiting. Stand up as if you were going to adjust your skirt. Then lift your dress and show me."

My pulse quickened and roared in my ears as I obeyed. Slowly, I rose, smoothing my hands over the fabric as if fixing it. I looked around at the other tables. The couple at the table next to ours watched me stand with curiosity. My face reddened. I lifted my dress exposing my thin laced panties -- my slit visible. I saw Jake's satisfied gaze.

"Good girl," he murmured. "Now take them off and wrap them around your wrist. Then, insert this into your pussy."

"Here?" I whispered, mortified. Heat flooded my face.

As conspicuously as he could, he handed me a bright pink lush-4 egg that was already vibrating. My humiliation burned, sharp and poignant. And yet, I felt an excitement, starting from inside me and radiating around my body.

I obeyed.

"Good, my little pet," he said. "When you sit down, I want you to put your finger in your pussy and slowly masturbate."

"But Jake," I protested. "That couple is watching me. They can't take their eyes off me."

"Then you will give them a show. Quickly, put your fingers between your wet lips and rub. Now!"

I sat down, with my panties wrapped around my wrist. Then, I looked over at the couple who continued to look at me and talk amongst them, and then slipped my finger between my legs and started to rub my pussy as commanded. I tried to position my body so that they couldn't notice what I was doing. Jake would have nothing of that.

"Turn towards them so they can see what you are rubbing. Then put your wet fingers in your mouth while you look into their eyes."

I looked at him seeking sympathy. "Jake, please no. Don't make me do this."

"Do it, my little pet," he said gently but commandingly. "Obey me. You know you want to."

I conceded. I turned my body and opened my legs so that they could see my fingers rubbing between my wet lips. I lifted my gaze to them and then with my wet fingers, I put them in my mouth. The woman gave me a look of disdain. Her partner was staring at my pussy. She said something to him, which seemed reprimanding, and he quickly looked away from me.

I felt like a pathetic slut, just as Jake called me. However, my submission only made me rub my clit faster. As such, I was just on the verge of orgasm and was expecting it at any moment.

"Stop," Jake commanded.

I opened my eyes.

"I said stop, Kat. Don't you dare cum," he said in a calm, but commanding tone. "Give me your hand. Now."

With all my resolve, I stopped and gave him my hands -- wet with my juices.

"Good girl."

--

Jake continued to tell me stories of his time in Spain while waiting for the menu. I thought perhaps I could ascertain information about the weekend -- having succumbed to his lurid requests.

"Jake, at least tell me where we're going," interrupting him, steering the conversation back to the weekend.

"Well, I can tell you it isn't 'Sanctus Dei', little girl," he said with a smirk.

The name jarred something in me -- like some fragmented memory. I couldn't place it and I felt confused.

"It's a secret, my sleek little Kitty Kat," he grinned.

He loved playing with my name. His nicknames for me were silly and playful -- never like the names Alexe had for me. My dearest Alexei -- my Alyosha -- whom I miss so much. No, with Alexei, nothing was silly.

---

The conversation returned to Hemingway -- again! Jake spoke as if they had been in Pamplona himself -- running alongside the bulls as they ran through the streets. I acted enchanted but I often stole glances out the window, lost in the allure of the Parisian night. From the few sips of wine, the low hum of conversations, and soft piano music, I felt drowsy, barely attentive to Jake.

My peaceful contemplations were interrupted by sharp hunger pangs, made more acute by the rich aromas of food. Jake had put me on an extreme diet all month. Why I would have agreed to this, I have no idea. I had been quite thin to begin with, however now I felt utterly emaciated.

Finally a waiter came to our table to take our order. With a polite and professional demeanor, he lifted the chilled bottle from the ice and filled our glasses.

"Mademoiselle, we highly recommend the

Sole braisée au vin blanc.

Would this be to your liking?"

I didn't have time to answer. I felt a sudden vibration from the dildo deep inside me -- it came to life all of a sudden. I was jolted since it had taken me off guard, making me jump. I gripped the tablecloth, my fingers curling into a fist, as an involuntary gasp escaped from my lips.

"Ah--!"

The waiter was startled and his expression changed from surprise to concern.

I steadied myself, realizing what had just happened, and struggled to regain my composure. The vibrator still pulsated at its highest setting inside me. "Uhm, that sounds...!," my voice faltered unsteadily.

"No," Jake interjected. The waiter turned to him with surprise. "The mademoiselle is not hungry. She will have water and one celery stick. However, you may bring me the

Sole braisée

."

I glanced quickly at Jake with consternation, but he looked back at my gaze unmoving. He lifted his wine glass and took a sip. For the benefit of the waiter, he put on a pantomime, "Darling, don't forget it's for your diet, my love."

I did my best to hide my frustration, as I gripped the edge of the table to keep my composure as I waited for the waiter to leave. Finally, the man gave a slight nod to Jake and turned away.

Jake looked at me with some amusement as my body wriggled from the vibrator still pulsating inside me. He knew this was torture, because I was famished and hadn't eaten in days.

He leaned forward. "You will be a sexy and sleek skinny Kat for the weekend, darling," he said slyly. "So, don't be flustered. You know you like to obey me. Now, pull your dress up all the way so that you are sitting naked on the chair. Then, put your finger inside your pussy and show me how wet you are."

My face flushed. This time I didn't care if the people at the other tables saw me.

I obeyed. My fingers were soaked.

--

"Who else will be there this weekend?" I asked since he was not willing to provide other details.

"Four other couples. They're old friends and clients of mine. Let's see -- there will be Robert Cohn, Bill Gorton, and Mike Campbell, each with their wives. Pedro Romero, the bullfighter, will also be there. On the day we arrive, a formal dinner party is planned, so I imagine there will be more than sixty guests. Oh, and Julian Masson -- you already met him -- he's an old friend of mine."

I nodded slowly, looking down into my wine.

Julian Masson. That name. I had an image of a crisp white coat, him adjusting the cuff of a sleeve. And Camel cigarettes. Such fragmented thoughts were confusing but probably meaningless and I pushed them out of my thoughts.

All these people and a formal dinner party seemed so foreign to my small world. The ultra-rich. But what was Jake doing with such people? In truth, I wasn't even sure what he did for work. He was wealthy -- that was clear. He had once told me he was a "head-hunter". But asked him more details, he said that his specialty was seeking people with incredible talent to work for extremely wealthy clients. That was all. But, it all remained a mystery. What kind of talent? And for what purpose? Jake didn't seem refined enough or have sufficient knowledge to work at the high level of business. But then again, what did I know?

"And we will be there all weekend?"

"Yes."

"What will we do?"

"Things. You will enjoy it, my little pet. And I'm convinced you'll be the center of attention," his voice dropping slightly on the last words. "Your presence will be particularly of interest to everyone there."

I felt a slight tingle stirred in my stomach. "You are making me nervous with such secrecy."

He smiled, teasingly.

I felt defeated by my attempts to pry information out of him. I tried another approach. "At least tell me what I will need to wear."

"I will take care of that. Besides, you'll find out soon enough. You won't need to bring anything else," he added wryly.

I tilted my head with an incredulous look. He remained unmoved.

"Trust me, Kat," he said and reached for my hand, intimately. "You will stand out like never before."

I suddenly had a tremendous headache.

TWO: PREPARING THE BATE

I met Jake after my performance in the ballet

Giselle

. It was through one of our patrons. I played Giselle, the fragile and innocent village girl who falls in love only to be betrayed, dying of a broken heart.

Subsequently, during this entire month, I hadn't really fallen in love, but I had gone along with it. It was sexual. He was handsome, and I loved his cock. He showered me with gifts and adoration. With him, I discovered new sexual territory that I had never known. He made me constantly submissive and my mind was caught into a whirlwind of constant arousal, unable to make decisions for myself, and completely at his command.

And now, Jake had planned this weekend. In hindsight, I realize now that every trip, every errand, and everything we did during this entire month had been leading to this weekend. And, each one had pushed the envelope of what I was willing to do.

Yet, I wasn't capable of stopping it. I was being pulled along. Into something. I was sinking deeper and deeper, into a black hole from which there was no escape. Falling. Continually cascading downward, yet all the while feeling more sexually alive than in all my life. I began to crave utter and total submission.

And then this diet. This maddening extreme diet. Jake had insisted on it being strict. I hadn't needed it. I am a ballet dancer, 170cm, with small breasts, a dancer's body and athletic -- well that was before the diet, at almost 55kg, however now, more than ten to fifteen kilograms less.

How could I have allowed it? The director of my ballet company -- Dmitri, my dearest Mitya -- was furious and I felt so weak during the long grueling practices.

But, Jake didn't allow me to eat anything. He wanted me skinnier than a 'supermodel', as he said it. "Your only protein and meal will be my cum."

Apart from my constant state of hunger, we went to a special spa and my diet consisted of water or tea -- and as he promised -- his cum; lots of cum. The spa itself was a dream -- an old châteaux in Bordeaux with pools and the kind of luxury I'd only seen in magazines. There, he made appointments for me to have several sessions of full-body laser hair removal.

"'Kat, you don't have to do this," he said several times, lounging back indifferently on the hotel bed. However, with an arrogant confidence, he already knew my answer. "But I know you won't leave. Will you?" His smile was lazy yet confident. I nodded.

"You like to obey. Don't you?"

I looked up, into his eyes. "Yeah." He smiled. He knew he had me, and I would do anything.

And then there was this past week. He had scheduled a visit to the city's most fashionable beauty parlour, situated on Avenue Montaigne. When I arrived, I was informed that my hairstyle had already been chosen. As the stylist cut my long hair, I gripped the sides of the chair to maintain my composure. Tears fell down my cheek. The stylist paused, his eyes soft with concern. 'Are you okay, darling?' he asked tenderly. I nodded, forcing a smile. "Yes. Sorry, I am being silly."

My boyfriend was shaping me into something. Something for him. Or perhaps, it was for someone or some group. However, I could not be sure. And yet, I let him. I continued to be sucked into this dark abyss -- of submission.

On the night we went to dinner, after getting my haircut, Jake was waiting by his car in the parking lot where I work. As I approached, he took my face in his hands and kissed my forehead. "You look so cute like this with your pixie hair. Now you will look even more like a sleek sexy little cat,' he said, smiling. "My skinny little pet.'"

"I'm glad you like it," I said elated. "I was afraid you wouldn't."

"You would look even better with cum on your face," he said. "Take your clothes off and squat down."

"Here?" I said incredulously. "But somebody might see us."

"Just do it. You know you want to, my little pet."

Despite hesitating, I obeyed him. I removed my dress and then pulled down my panties. I threw them in the car. I squatted down, hoping that nobody would pass by at that moment. Also, I was afraid that the owner of the car next to us -- perhaps a co-worker -- would arrive right at that moment. There I was, completely naked, squatting in front of Jake, undoing his zipper, and removing his massive cock to put into my mouth.

"Mm," a groan escaped from his mouth. "You are amazing, little pet."

That pleased me. I couldn't deny that this treatment turned me on. I was being humiliated, but I loved it and the feeling of his big cock in my mouth. As I sucked his cock, I also swirled my tongue on his tip and around his shaft. I did that briefly, but then he grabbed the side of my head with his powerful hands. He forced my head down on his cock until it hit the back of my mouth and forced on the entrance to my throat. He continued to ram his cock at the entrance of my throat, trying to force it past the barrier while I gagged.

Without warning he removed his cock from my mouth and slapped me hard across the face. I felt a sudden searing pain.

"Ouch!" I was dazed.

"Open up your throat, my little bitch," he commanded, and then slapped me again hard across the face. He took my nipples and pinched them hard. "You like that, don't you -- being treated rough, like a bitch? You're a nasty little slave, aren't you?"

"Yeah. I like it," I tried not to cry.

He adjusted the angle of my head, and returned to pushing his cock down my throat with all his force. Even though I gagged, I couldn't even move. At this angle, his cock passed into my throat and he started to pump in and out. I was completely at his mercy -- with his strength compared to my skinny frame.

He continued to use me as if I were a rag doll. I loved that.

While he was fucking my mouth so violently, I heard people approaching. Even though I was squatting between two cars, if they walked past, they would easily see us.

I tried to break free of Jake's hold on me. However, Jake held my head firmly.

They were conversing. A man was talking. "Well, the Kenneth account is something that I didn't expect." And then a woman's voice. "I know what you....". The conversation cut short. I looked over. The two stood looking at us.

Even as I tried to pull away and hide myself, Jake didn't stop thrusting his cock down my throat. It didn't seem to phase him in the slightest that they stood there. If anything, he held me in place and began pumping his cock even faster and harder.

Then, just before he was about to orgasm, he pulled his cock out and shot his cum all over my face. His ejaculations never ended -- spurt after spurt of thick white sperm covered my face while the two people stood there and watched. It happened all in a few moments, but felt like an eternity.

"Miss, are you ok? Is he... We can call the cops if you want."

"Yeah, she's alright," Jake said, annoyed. "Aren't you?"

I nodded quickly. I was blinded by the large globs of cum that covered my face and dripped down my chest onto my bare tits.

"I was just giving her a present for her new haircut," he said, absurdly. "Isn't that right, Kat?"

I nodded.

"Tell them that you wanted my cock to cum all over you and that you are a slut," he said to me in a low voice so they couldn't hear.

I had no choice. "I wanted his cock to cum all over me because I am a slut." I could have died of embarrassment.