Trading Places Pt. 03

Looking down at the form letter from the BDSM camp, I felt a strong sense of accomplishment. It had been difficult to keep Frank, my husband, from seeing this document. It contains the safe-words for the camp. Without these words, Frank was powerless to halt the camp's harsh treatment of him.

The camp staff believed that their actions toward Frank were not only consensual, but also sexually gratifying for him. In other words, the staff was clueless about him being an unwilling participant. Of course, they also had no idea that we had switched places. They were unknowingly brutalizing a man in a woman's body.

I had provided the camp's leader, Lady Helen, with a supply of the gypsy's aphrodisiac. She gave them to Frank unknowingly, as part of his morning enemas. She assumed the potions were a garden variety stimulant. She had no idea just how these magical elixirs really affected him.

Moreover, I had increased the dose for Frank by a factor of tenfold over what I had taken. Within the first several days, I saw Frank become a casebook nymphomaniac. His initial disgust with men fuck him quickly morphed into a deep, constant craving.

By day five, Frank was eagerly competing to suck cock with the other women at the camp. When any man came close, Frank would drop to his knees, open his mouth wide, and stick out his tongue. He even started begging to take it up the ass. He had become the very definition of a slut. I loved it.

However, no matter how hard I tried to convince myself that this was for Frank's own good, deep down, I knew I had done this out of revenge for his mistreatment of me. I enjoyed watching him suffer every imaginable indignity, humiliation, and sexual torment. We were even now, and my almost mission complete. I felt a deep since of satisfaction, and a sincere hope that Frank would come back a changed man.

The experience had been overpowering for Frank. It broke him. The once macho man was now a docile fuck doll.

This whole nasty business had begun almost a year ago, when I accidentally stumbled across Frank's porn collection on his laptop. My laptop had frozen. So, I went to his study to borrow his machine. He was at the store.

I hadn't known his password, but guessing it proved easy. He loved the Seattle Seahawks, so it took only a few tries before I got it. My eyes were immediately drawn to a folder named, "Sick Shit." Frank could be cruel, but his sizable collection of pain-related porn shocked me.

This stuff wasn't the light consensual clips you see on popular porn sites. It was truly horrific videos, showing women being whipped until bleeding, staked out over anthills, with speculums exposing their vaginas and asses to the biting insects. In addition, female genitalia was electrocuted, with metal dildos, alligator clips, and cattle prods.

Perhaps the most disturbing were the enema punishment videos. Most featured naked women tied down or suspended, with long inflatable enema nozzles deeply embedded in their asses. They were forced to take huge quantities of cramp-inducing liquids, like milk and molasses.

They were given far too fast, with too much liquid, and for too long. Stomachs became so distended that they look nine-months pregnant. In several of the clips, the women were ass-fucked while still retaining the enemas! The screams were unsettling, and clearly authentic.

I was incredibly confused and upset, and unsure what do with this discovery. I had known Frank had a dark side. However, I had never imagined that he was this brutal and perverted.

Leaving him was probably the smart thing to do; however, we had shared a reasonably happy married life, and I just wasn't ready for such a radical step. Another obvious option was to confront him with the evidence. I saw no value in doing that. If this sick obsession was really a part of him, it was unlikely he would be able to change without help.

So, I remained silent. Despite trying to conceal my growing contempt for him, he knew something was wrong. For one thing, our sex life slowly vanished. I couldn't keep myself from thinking about what was really going through his mind, when we fucked. So, I stopped having sex with him.

After almost a year, I was ready to leave him. I had fervently hoped that he would somehow grow out of his gruesome and perverse obsession. However, my covert inspections of his laptop revealed that not only was he continuing to accrue videos, his tastes were getting sicker and more vicious.

The latest clip was the final straw. It featured a woman having her vagina painfully sewn shut! a This poor girl was bound spread-eagle and naked on bed. Using a speculum, a fat man shoved nettles into her pussy. Then, he took a large needle and thick thread, and stitched up labia!

The woman bleed, and screamed, which seemed to anger the man. He untied her, and then gave a brutal spanking. It was clear that each swat caused her to clinch, which resulted in the nettles buried inside her to inject more venom. I had never seen anyone cry so much. It was ghastly.

Obviously, Frank's sexual sadism was getting worse. I went to work that morning, and asked a colleague to draw up divorce papers. Frank and I were both attorneys. I worked for a highly successful criminal defense firm, while his career had been spent in the prosecutor's office.

By lunch time, I had become depressed and melancholy. So, I took a walk in the park to clear my head. Several boys on skateboards almost ran me down, and then knocked over an old lady, causing her groceries to spill on the ground. She got to her knees, and began gathering them up.

I yelled after the kids, and then rushed over to help her. She seemed genuinely surprised by my assistance. As I knelt next to her, and retrieved a can of beans, as I glanced at her face. It was laced with deep weather lines. Her clothing was old, and shabby. She grabbed my arm to steady herself.

"Are you okay?" I said.

Staring directly into her iron grey eyes sent chills down my spine. She smiled.

"Yes, my dear," she said, in a gravelly voice.

Once we had all the groceries back in her bag, I helped her up. She still looked unsteady, so I carried her bag. She thanked me. We made our way through the park, chatting.

For some strange reason, I began describing my life with Frank, even disclosing his sexual addictions, and my plan to leave him. She didn't speak for a long time. Finally, she stopped, turned, and held both my hands.

"What if I could offer you a solution?" she said.

"I don't understand. You mean sex therapy?" I said.

She didn't look like a therapist, or even someone that knew one. She seemed to sense my confusion.

"I'm a gypsy, my dear, we have ways of dealing with this sort of problem," she said.

The old woman led me to a nearby bench, and we sat down. She continued to tightly hold my right hand. Over the next thirty minutes, she described ancient potions that were only known to her family.

I was understandably skeptical, until she took out a bottle, poured just drop of the contents on my wrist. I tried to pull it away, but her firm grip made it impossible. Instantly, I was flushed, and light headed, and then became more sexually aroused than any other time in my life.

It was embarrassing to have the old woman watch me, as I became increasingly horny. Red-faced and aroused, I sat trembling next to her. I was no longer a disbeliever. Clearly, what she had given me worked as advertised. She displayed a toothy grin.

After a few minutes, my head cleared. The gypsy quickly explained what she had in mind for Frank. I found her plan intriguing, but also disquieting, as it would require me to seduce, lie, and ultimately betray him. However, she assured me that he would no longer crave hurting women. Maybe this end would justify the means.

It was bold scheme, with a great deal of risk. Even with her demonstration, I found it hard to accept that a mere potion could cause Frank and I to switch bodies. She insisted that the elixir would work, and that we could switch back anytime, just by drinking it again.

Even with his descent into sadism, I still cared for Frank. If this plan had a chance of making him better, then I had to take it. In addition, I liked the idea of giving him a taste of what it was like to be a woman. To be treated like an object.

We spent a long time discussing how to implement the scheme, so that it would have the maximum impact on him. Once I had a general overview of what to do, I bid the gypsy farewell, taking great care not to rattle the precious potions that now filled my bulging purse. I had offered to pay here for the tinctures, but she had declined.

After taking just a few steps, I realized that I had forgotten to get her contact information. So, I whirled around, only to discover she had vanished. Her sudden disappearance really rattled me. So much so, I spent the rest of the afternoon searching the park for her. I never saw the gypsy again.

I went home that day, and fucked Frank for the first time in months. With a larger dose, the aphrodisiac worked far better than at the park. Even with my distaste for his repulsive deviancy, I found it easy to have enjoyable intercourse with him.

As the gypsy had suggested, I pretended to be interested in masochism and sadism. I encouraged his brutal sexual perversions, even though they made my stomach turn. The bottles of potion helped me get past my reservations.

The days grew into weeks, as I finished bottle after bottle of the strange concoction. It allowed me to not only tolerate his prurient sexual desires, but to fool him into thinking that I shared them.

However, it was still difficult to relinquish control, and suffer through the pain and humiliation. I have always had a dominate personality. So, I had to constantly suppress my natural tendencies to be in the position of power.

I began searching for the most extreme BDSM training facility available. It didn't take long to locate a ranch in Southern California that had earned a reputation for its ruthlessness. The place was run by Lady Helen, a highly sadistic dominatrix.

Frank had become enthralled with tying me up, and tormenting me during sex. So, I told him the camp would make me a better more submissive sex slave. It didn't take too much convincing for him to sign onto my going to the BDSM camp. I even managed to get our local pro-dominatrix to endorse the trip.

On the morning that I was to leave for the camp, I had Frank tie me up. He carefully followed the binding and gagging instructions specified by the camp. Just before my ride arrived, I tricked Frank into drinking the body swapping potion with me.

When my camp staff came to the door, they carried my body to the van. However, by then, I had switched places with Frank. So, he was the one that ended up being taken to the BDSM training camp, instead of me.

Frank would spend the next two weeks suffering under the supervision of Lady Helen. I knew that none of the camp staff would believe his ravings about switching bodies with me. It was just too preposterous.

My plan had worked perfectly. Thirteen days had passed. I had observed everything done to Frank using the closed-circuit TV system at the ranch. I watched him used and abused, repeatedly. Lady Helen had offered the monitoring service for an extra fee, and I had been careful to hide that fact from Frank. So, he remained unware of my voyeurism.

Seeing him in my small female form had been difficult at first. It made me incredibly self-conscious. However, I eventually garnered a fair amount of satisfaction from watching him suffer as a woman. I repeatedly told myself that I was teaching him a valuable lesson. However, I knew that my motivations ran deeper.

I began finding his helplessness and humiliation oddly touching. In addition, I was struggling with my new male body, especially my cock. It seemed to react with a mind of its own. For instance, my penis would twitch, while I was viewing Frank being fucked in my body. I got stiff during his most painful moments.

This was terribly wrong. The whole plan had spun out of control. My original intention had been to help Frank get over his perversion by forcing him to experience life as an mistreated woman. Instead, I was becoming a sexual defiant too.

I began to question my real motives for doing this to him. Was I trying to help him get over being perverted? Or, did I just want to get even with him? Maybe what I really wanted was to see him shamed and punished for my own pleasure. If so, then I was as sick as him.

With those thoughts swirling around in my head, I leaned back in Frank's office chair, and sighed deeply. I rubbed my eyes. They were tired from staring at the laptop for hours. Today had been a particularly brutal one for Frank.

With just one more day at the ranch, Lady Helen had arranged a gang-bang for Frank this afternoon. Ten men had rotated around his three tight holes, while Lady Helen whipped his soft delicate feminine body-my body.

I was a small girl. Standing just five feet three inches, and weighing around a hundred pounds. I had small but pert tits, shoulder-length orange hair, and freckles everywhere. My skin was pale, and easily marked. A perfect canvas for Lady Helen's whip.

I watched my body whither under intense fucking and whipping. Long red streaks covered my...I mean Frank's delicate tits, ass, thighs, and caves. He looked like he had given up. His eyes, my eyes, were glazed over. However, orgasm after orgasm revealed that he was still in there, enduring.

Earlier this afternoon, while viewing the gang-bang, I had absentmindedly begun stroking my cock. When I realized what I was doing, I felt sick to my stomach. Nonetheless, I couldn't take my eyes off the laptop, especially when the men double-penetrated Frank. I was disgusted by my own emerging perverse nature.

What was happening to me? Was this type of thinking the result of a brain soaked in too much testosterone? Was Frank's brain wrongly wired? Or, had this salacious capacity for enjoying another's suffering and sexual debasement always been in me, buried deep, just waiting to appear?

That last possibility had chilled me to the bone. Perhaps I was sicker than even Frank. The loud ringing of my smartphone startled me out of my dark thoughts. I glanced down, and saw that it was the local pro-dom. I couldn't afford to ignore her, as she might get suspicious. So, I answered the phone.

"Hello Mistress Sin," I said.

My deep male voice shocked me. This was the first time since I had assumed control of Frank's body that I had spoken. I steadied my nerves.

"Your wife is getting the full treatment at the ranch. Have you been watching?" she inquired.

"I have seen some of it," I said.

I had watched it all, but that embarrassed me, so I lied.

"She is a real trooper. I haven't seen another submissive endure that much exploitation, without using her safe-words," she said.

"Ah...yes...I am...proud of her too," I said, feeling guilty.

"We should take this opportunity to have you come to my place for some training too. You should be prepared to step up your game, when Allie comes home," the pro-dom said.

The last thing I wanted to do was engage in BDSM right now, especially in this body. It had been difficult to even walk as a man. The thought of strenuous activity sent my heart racing. However, I knew that Frank would have jumped at the opportunity. So, to avoid arousing suspicion, I reluctantly accepted her invitation.

I took a shower and got dressed. It was weird putting on Frank's black leather pants, and leather vest. His tall black boots felt equally peculiar. I stood up, and the tight leather pants pinched my balls. It was incredibly weird to have a cock and balls, where my slit should have been.

It felt completely unnatural, but somehow empowering too. However, it wasn't just my new junk that threw me. It was my entire massive body. Moving was arduous, clumsy. My reflexes were off too.

I hadn't driven with this body, and I was worried about it. Slipping into the driver side of my car, I had to move the seat way back, and adjust the mirror. Frank was a big man, just over six feet tall, with a beefy muscular build, and short black hair. He weighed almost two hundred pounds.

His body was far stronger than mine, but not nearly as flexible or responsive. As I drove to the pro-dom's home, I had to concentrate on not over correcting. Somehow, I made it there without causing an accident. However, the experience had shaken me. I wasn't sure I could pull off impersonating Frank in front of Mistress Sin.

I lumbered up to her front door, composed myself, and then rang the bell. She answered, dressed in black leather's herself. Her platinum blonde hair fell beautifully across her shoulders. I was surprised, as she always had kept it in a tight bun.

Her perfectly symmetrical face and piercing blue eyes stared up at me. I couldn't help but notice that her large round tits seemed especially visible today. Her striking good looks had always made me feel inadequate as a woman.

However, now that I was wearing Frank's body, she seemed far warmer toward me. Suddenly, I realized that she must have been flirting with the Frank all along. How could I have missed this until today?

I fought down my irrational jealously, and attempted to match her smile. She came in close, and hugged me tight, pressing her large breasts against my chest. She held the embrace far too long, but I grudgingly hugged her back.

She finally pulled away, and then unexpectedly kissed me on my neck, just below the ear. She even nipped my earlobe with her teeth. Apparently, with me briefly out of the picture, this woman was making a play for Frank. My blood boiled, but I managed to retain my calm demeanor.

She took my hand, and led me to her basement, which had been fitted out as a dungeon. It had torches, racks, and a vast array of pain inducing implements. Frank and I had spent many hours down here, with him tormenting and teasing me, under her guidance. Those memories made me angrier.

As we reached the bottom of the stairs, I was startled to see a young naked blonde woman hanging from her wrists in the center of the room. Her toes barely touched the floor, and she was blindfolded and gagged. Her radiant light blonde hair hung down to her ass. She had huge soft tits and a curvy figure. I was immediately drawn to her.

My cock enlarged, despite my best efforts to stop it. To conceal my growing stiffness, I walked to a wall, and pretended to examine a bull whip. As woman, it was easy to hide my arousal. As a man, it was nearly impossible. I felt ashamed.

In college, I had experimented with women. In fact, I had a passionate affair with my roommate. She looked almost identical to the woman hanging in front of me. Those long dead feelings unexpectedly came alive. I licked my lips, nervously.

"This is Debbie, she has agreed to be your submissive," Mistress Sin said.

The pro-dom grinned, obviously pleased with herself.

"Ah, I appreciate the gesture, but I don't think Allie would approve," I said, stammering.

"Nonsense, Allie is being used and abused by dozens of men. If you hope to impress her when she gets back, you will need to practice too," Mistress Sin said, laughing.

She took the coiled bull whip from the wall, and handed it to me. I looked down at it, trying to keep my hand from shaking. If I abused this poor girl, I would be no better than Frank. However, if I refused, Mistress Sin would become very suspicious. I was trapped.

My mind raced, as I uncoiled the whip, letting the tail drop to the floor. I raised the handle high over my head. I tried to comfort myself by focusing on the fact that this was this submissive woman wanted, enjoyed. After all, she must be some kind of pain slut, and I was only providing what she desired.