Women with the Whip Hand

Chapter One-3

In the showers after a training session or a match there would be lots of banter which often included taunts that a guy was more like a girl the way he played or insults with a similar drift.

The worst thing a footballer could be was effeminate in any way whatsoever.

And here I was being shagged by a supporter of a rival team.

Ulryk was trying to belittle me because he hated me as a player.

It was possible he didn’t particularly get off on me sexually.

When he pumped his semen into my bowels he followed up by zipping me up quickly and restoring me to my former position. The fact that he didn’t want Zusa to know he’d abused me this way suggested to me he did have s****l feelings towards men.

Zusa had no compunction about sitting on my face when her husband was present but when he was out of the apartment she, too, behaved differently.

First of all she usually finished a session of face sitting by peeing into my mouth. It was a challenge to swallow it all without choking but I got better at it with practice.

The other thing she was coy about was that she used to ride me.

She would climb up and impale herself on my bound c**k and give me a hard f**k. This was not pleasurable for me except in retrospect because my c**k and balls were so tightly bound. Every time I tried not to get hard but every time she mounted me for a ride my c**k stiffened involuntarily. I suppose the extra thickness provided by the twine helped to make my prick more satisfying. Judging by her moans and little yelps- and the number of times she climaxed- she was enjoying herself.

Sometimes when Zusa came back from one of her outings she opened my mouth zip and dangled a necklace or other item of jewelry against my lips.

“See what you bought me today,” she would say.

There was nothing to stop them plundering my accounts and I had the impression they were buying only the best.

***

One night they threw a party.

For some reason I decided they were all illegal immigrants though I had no evidence for that conclusion. They certainly shared the same accent. There was plenty of drinking going on which I assumed was also at my expense. Music began to thump its rhythm and I wondered if someone from a neighboring apartment might come round to complain.

That could be my chance.

Early on in proceedings my c**k zip had been opened and I had to endure constant pulling on my line. I could hear women’s voices were in the majority and I was quite aroused at the thought that women were inflicting this pain on my prick.

My mouth zip was also open and every now and then someone, maybe a guest, maybe Zusa, would pour an alcoholic drink down my gullet. I say that advisedly because I rarely had a chance to taste the drink properly. However, I was soon feeling distinctly strange as I was in my usual half-starved state. My biggest fear in that respect was that I would pee myself if Zusa didn’t remember to toilet me.

Then women began climbing onto the bed frame and going down on me giving me other juices to imbibe. Each woman had a subtly different taste and smell which I savored as I sucked and licked and tongue f****d them.

One woman would c*m all over my face, the juices running under the rubber hood, and slide off me to be replaced by another until I began to feel like a w***e.

Then suddenly I heard a voice cutting through the din very close to my face.

“You must hang on,” said the mystery voice. I’ll get you out of here. Be patient.”

Although this gave me hope I knew it could easily be a cruel joke and I braced myself for my next humiliation.

“Do we want to see him pee?”

Zusa seemed to be gathering her female friends around the bed.

I was rolled over and the jar was placed under my c**k.

By this time I was bursting and my stream was strong when it came. Then someone else jerked my line and my urine sprayed everywhere. Gradually this developed into a little game whereby people tried to squirt other people who tried to dodge out of the way. I was able to amuse them for quite a time as my bladder was very full.

***

Ulryk persuaded Zusa I should be shaved of my body hair as ‘I was more like a girl’ and at last I was freed from my rubber sarcophagus. Able to see again after I adjusted to the light, I caught a reflection of myself in the bathroom mirror. I looked pale and wasted with my ribs beginning to show. Apart from being given little to eat I had sweated so much in the rubber suit that I’d lost pounds.

They tackled me together. Ulryk cut the long hair with scissors while Zusa followed with my cut throat razor starting with my head. Zusa sheared me close to the skull which was a great blow to my vanity and then the mass of dark body hair was removed including all my pubic hair, even my balls were rendered bald. I was made to turn round so my back could be done; they even removed the hairs between my buttocks, continuing down my left leg.

Once this almost total depilation was completed, Ulryk shaved me all over with the cut throat just to make sure.

My c**k and balls looked like something resembling a plucked chicken and I felt denuded and vulnerable.

Ulryk seemed pleased to have found another way to humiliate me and I was taken back to my bed and stretched out without being put into the suit. This time I was hauled across the bed face down and felt the springs dig into my balls. My c**k slotted into one of the holes.

I soon discovered the reason I was left naked when each of them picked up a cane and began practising air shots.

They stood on opposite sides of the bed continuing to swish their canes and I shivered in fearful expectation knowing neither of these sadistic fiends would show any mercy. Zusa landed the first stroke full across the fleshiest part of my arse and I had to summon all my will not to cry out, wanting to deprive them of the pleasure of hearing me squeal. I said ‘fleshiest part’ but I had lost so much weight my ass was rather bony. With less padding the pain was greater and before I could fully absorb it, her husband struck me across the tops of my thighs. Although I had tensed my body to receive a second stroke the pain seared my buttocks and made me buck and writhe so that I almost levitated. A third blow hit me high around the coccyx and the pain there was excruciating. Their canes were whippy enough to shape themselves to the contours of my cheeks and upper thighs in deadly embraces.

The time came when they had dealt so many strokes that all of my flesh was raised in hard welts which were beginning to split and ooze blood but still there was no let up.

And then I heard the commotion at the door, repeated ringing of the bell and loud banging.

Mercifully the caning stopped. My torturers stood still.

Through my parched lips I shouted, ‘help!” but was surprised how pathetically weak my voice sounded.

I distinctly heard the words, ‘Police. Open up!”

And then I must have fainted from pain and utter exhaustion.

***

It turned out it was Cheryl who had whispered those words of comfort into my ear at the party and it was Cheryl who had raised the alarm.

She had sensed something was wrong when I stopped sending her text messages but she’d found it very difficult to convince the police that they needed to get involved. When Cheryl had explained we’d just stopped seeing each other, the police seemed to think it was an attempt by her to inveigle herself back into my life.

Zusa turned out to a bogus nurse.

She and the man who had first visited me were apparently in cahoots. He worked on the switchboard at the firm’s office and diverted some enquires to his partner in crime who had procured a nurse’s uniform and an authoritative manner. These calls simply by-passed the system and so provided Zusa and Ulryk with opportunities to exploit their ‘clients.”

When I checked later my account was lighter by £26,000.

But with Ulryk some of it was personal.

He did loathe my team and had a personal grudge against me over the matter of penalties.