Altercations in Buttermilk Falls

Even after the Kyra situation, Morse had continued to be fascinated with female domination, but he'd tried to kill the desire, mostly by increasing his drug use.

Yes, smoking pot and taking Quaaludes, acid, freebase cocaine, and other stuff ...

Oh, but he'd kept his grades up, and after he'd graduated from the Capitol Page School, he'd gone off to Tufts University, in Boston, a great school.

But Morse's habit had gotten ahead of him, he'd been thrown out of Tufts, wrecked a few cars, bounced in and out of jail and then he'd had an overdose.

When he'd come out of the hospital, two guys from Dope fiends Anonymous.

The group saved Morse's life, and helped him get off drugs.

Morse had been so grateful that he'd begun manning the Dope fiends Anonymous Hotline, and then Sonia had called.

"I'm a dominatrix, do you know what that is? A heroin addicted dominatrix, actually."

It had been a fascinating conversation, and Morse, of course had offered to take Sonia, A.K.A. Mistress Smallpox, to her first Dope fiends Anonymous meeting.

God Sonia was beautiful!

She was black, and quite aristocratic looking, with full boobs in a skin-tight leather bustier, with hot pants.

After the meeting, Morse could tell, with a junkie's experienced eyes, that Sonia might be on the verge of getting dope-sick and going through withdrawal.

Morse took her to detox for a fourteen day stay, but he visited her every day, and one day he met her husband.

Euclid was a fairly handsome steel haired guy in an expensive suit.

"As you know, Morse, I'm a dominatrix, and Euclid here is the publisher of Debbie's Dungeon Digest!"

Sonia had said this, smiling.

Morse had been amazed, admitting that this was his favorite magazine...

Morse had been getting the "Digest" sent monthly in a plain brown wrapper to an anonymous post office box.

Euclid had gone home, and Morse had sat at Sonia's bedside, telling her all his fantasies, and she'd invited him to dinner upon her release.

Dinner had been freaky, because Euclid had cooked and served it, in the nude.

Euclid was naked except for am apron and a little metal tube around his crotch that Sonia called his Iron Maiden.

Morse had noticed that Euclid's naked body was covered with scars, old and new, from belts, whips, canes and switches.

Euclid also had a thick green butt-plug up his ass.

"I am trying to widen his rectum a bit, so he will be ready when I get him a black homosexual lover...a little sodomy for Euclid would be so therapeutic, don't you think, Morse?"

Morse just couldn't get over how beautiful Sonia was.

She herself was black, and rather stunning...

But Sonia had an amazing confidence as well, and this just drove Morse wild.

He couldn't get over the aura she sent out.

While they ate, Euclid knelt on the floor quietly...and Morse had learned quite a bit about the femdom lifestyle from Sonia...

When Euclid asked if he could go to the bathroom, Sonia had unlocked the Iron Maiden and ordered him to pee in a backwards arc into his own mouth.

Morse had been amazed at Euclid's agility.

"You see, Morse" Sonia had said brightly "The Iron Maiden prevents unauthorized orgasms as well as urination.

I drop by the "Debbie's Dungeon Digest" office at noon every day to unlock Euc so he can pee, and then I take out his butt plug, which is also locked in...

Sometimes I'm late, and Euc calls me, begging for me to show up so he can do his business.

He tries to drink and eat as little as possible every day, but there's always an uncomfortable scene."

Morse had panted with desire, imagining what that must be like...

Come on, not being allowed to go to the bathroom!

But on the other hand, Morse had been a basic prisoner of cocaine, pot and other drugs from the ages of thirteen to twenty...

Really, did Morse want to be controlled by a crazy black woman for the rest of his life like poor Euclid?

After dinner, they had cappuccino.

"Euclid, this cappuccino is cold." Sonia said, putting down her demitasse cup.

"After dinner coffee should be perfect, especially with a guest present. Bring me the Batter, please."

As Morse watched with astonishment, Euclid's eyes filled with tears.

He shook his head.

He looked QUITE ridiculous now, as he'd removed his apron and his Iron Maiden and was very naked.

Yes except for bright red high heeled pumps in the oversized transvestite size.

"Please...Sonia...Mistress Smallpox...

I've really been busy getting dinner together, and the cappuccino maker is broken.

I had to make it in the frying pan, and the pilot light was weak..."

But Sonia was implacable.

Euclid went to the closet and brought out what appeared to be fifty three foot broom straws tied together at the end with a little wooden handle at the end.

Mistress Smallpox took the Batter from Euclid and ordered him to jut out his crotch...

As Morse watched, she whacked his penis ten times, scraping the balls with the ends of the broom straw, and bringing Euclid to near tears.

"You see, Morse, as Euclid has not had an orgasm in 389 days, his penis is especially sensitive!"

"Now fetch me my Carcass Beater, please."

The weeping Euclid came back with a long, thick braided loop with a bone handle.

"This is made of polyethylene, Morse." Mistress Smallpox said, smiling.

"It's tougher than leather, and it helps Euclid to think...he's not that bright, you know."

THUNK!

Just as Sonia said "you know", she whacked Euclid between the legs, hitting his balls with the Carcass Beater.

And then before Morse could react, she began whacking his head and shoulders with it, finally turning him over a chair so she could have full access to his unattractive, flabby bottom.

"When (WHACK) will you learn (WHACK) to make (WHACK) coffee the way (WHACK) I expect (WHACK) it? You (WHACK) are a (WHACK) hopeless (WHACK) slug, Euclid. I am (WHACK) seriously considering (WHACK) renting you (WHACK) out as an (WHACK) oral suck-job a (WHACK) attendant at (WHACK) the Third (WHACK) Street Olympic (WHACK) Baths, so you can (WHACK) just use (WHACK) your (WHACK) useless mouth (WHACK) and ass to (WHACK) pleasure (WHACK) the sodomites (WHACK) there, you are (WHACK) absolutely no (WHACK) use to me (WHACK) here, you know!"

Finally Sonia tossed the Carcass Beater down.

"You can go clean the kitchen now, Euclid..."

While Euclid began cleaning up the dishes, Sonia had taken Morse to the bedroom.

"Why don't you take off your clothes, Morsie?" she'd asked, but it was in a very commanding voice.

"Hurry up...you know in spite of trying to be my authoritative Dope fiends Anonymous sponsor, you're just a bitchy little crybaby."

Sonia had stretched as she'd said this, tossing her black curly hair, and making her big boobs almost re- expand in the snug pink turtleneck she was wearing.

Morse hungered for her full lips, but he knew that she didn't really regard him as any kind of a man.

Morse had been about to object, but he just couldn't.

Having given up his dependence on alcohol and drugs, he really had nothing to assist him in resisting his quite intense desire to submit and humiliate himself to Sonia.

"I'm... I'm not a crybaby, Sonia. I think it's unfair of you to...to assume this about me."

Sonia smirked. "Well then, take off your clothes and prove it to me! Let's see what you're really about, white boy."

Euclid was also white, and Morse wondered if Sonia had some sort of superior black woman's contempt for Caucasian males.

He stripped naked and stood in front of her, trembling slightly. It was really kind of embarrassing, as she had not taken off a stitch.

Sonia rose slowly, still with her contemptuous smile, and she gently bent Morse over the bed, tying his hands behind him with thick rope, and then, suddenly, blindfolding him as well.

"Now we'll see if you're a real man or not. If you can resist crying, you get to fuck me...

But I doubt you can do it!"

"Now I'm bringing out my Brazilian Quirt, which is made of quarter inch harness leather. and topped at the end with deer hide tresses It is designed to make you think.

Can you be a little man and take a few?"

Morse had nodded his head, feeling ridiculous with his eyes closed off and his hands bound...

Then the first hit of the Brazilian Quirt bounced off his bare ass, and he reconsidered.

And then another whack! And another.

Within thirty seconds, Morse was crying, loudly, and attempting to get up off the bed.

He felt Sonia's knee pushing him back down and again and again the Brazilian Quirt landed.

Oooh! The Quirt made a blister, and then landed again and opened the blister up, and Morse screamed once more.

Suddenly, he felt himself being turned over on

the bed, and then felt Mistress Smallpox's fingers deftly pulling and stroking his penis into hardness...

She really had a velvety touch, and Morse's hips began shaking and quivering with desire...was he going to cum?

But then he had heard Mistress Smallpox's throaty laugh and WHACK!

The Brazilian Quirt had come down HARD on Morse's hard cock WHACK! WHACK! Morse's cock began withering, shrinking WHACK! OOPS, right on the balls...

Yes, and his cock was tiny again.

Then Morse felt the Quirt being pressed to his tear covered lips.

"Kiss it darling Thank the whip for making you into the true crybaby we always knew you were." And Morse kissed it!

And then a month later, after numerous painful training sessions, Mistress Smallpox had upped the ante. Morse came to dinner.

Sonia had ordered him to strip and kneel on the living room floor. She'd then put a snaffle pony bit gag in his mouth, and cuffed his hands beside him...and then visitors came!

She had forbidden Morse to cum after the first night, when he'd been allowed to jerk off into a full ashtray and lick it all up...every single butt!

Oh it was disgusting.

But since then, Sonia had ordered Morse to drop by her house every night so she could feel his balls and give him a whipping...

Yes, they'd had extended sessions on the weekends, but there had been no orgasming for poor Morse.

Some nights they went to Dope fiends Anonymous meetings, and those had been extremely trying, as there were all these hot girls there...

And Morse's regular girlfriend, Shannon, had been quite suspicious.

Shannon had understood when Morse had gotten involved with Dope fiends Anonymous.

Yes, after all, she'd born the brunt of his drug use, and had loyally visited him when he'd been in detox.

Still, Shannon didn't understand why he was hanging out with this arrogant black woman...

Oh, what the hell was that about?

And then Mistress Smallpox turned to Morse, indicating the remarkable women in his life and said... "Tonight we are going to humiliate and torture you...

Yes and it will bring you to true humility I hope..."

Ah, what an evening THAT WAS!

Yes. Mistress Sonia Smallpox had had quite an interesting relationship with Morse. But then he'd finally gone home and transferred his crappy transcript from Tufts to Buttermilk State University.

Fanchon had invited him to this strange party...and now he was facing the erotic but insane Blythe...

Yes and Blythe had taken Morse by the hand, leaving Cleary kneeling on the party floor.

"I'm going to explain male submission to you, darling..." Blythe said.

Morse walked beside her up to Fanchon's master bedroom, his legs trembling.