by Mark Andrews
As he pressed the two buttons, one for Craig and one for Wendy, their bodies immediately went into spasm, the muscles now standing out even more, writhing in some cases, utterly rigid in others.
Craig actually orgasmed and, a few seconds later, so did his sister, Craig’s jism jetting powerfully up and out from his body in a high parabola and in a quantity that had Paul staring in shock. Good God! This boy was a sexual giant, he thought. And then he stared at Wendy. Of course he had let the buttons go as soon as Craig had ejaculated but the boy was still in the throes of a powerful sexual climax — and so was Wendy.
She was shaking violently within her bonds and it had nothing to do with the shocks that had just been applied to her clit and breasts, or rather it wasn’t now. It had been started by them but her own libido had now taken over, just as Craig’s had and it was fuelling a like reaction in her as in her brother.
Her face was snarling in a paroxysm of a more violent climax than she had ever experienced before—could ever have imagined — and still Craig’s cock spurted forth the last drops of his seed, his testicles convulsing up and down in their sac, his cock trembling and shaking…
Paul had thought he had seen everything. Now he had to reappraise that thought. He quickly, but carefully let them down so that their feet were again on the floor but he kept their hands loosely held at about shoulder level then went up to them, stroking their now sweaty bodies, calming their raging emotions until they were again breathing normally and he could undo their bonds safely.
He supervised a joint shower for them and then, back in his office, sat them down once more. “I think we can take it that you are both very definitely masochistic,” he said dryly and with a near smile on his face. He never smiled. None of the inspectors did and so this made it all the more remarkable.
“You had better replace your pouches and go back to school. But whenever you feel the urge, call me and we will arrange something. Possibly in one of the rooms here; possibly a mere caning. I want you to regain your old grades and top the state … Can do?”
“Can do, Sir.”
They did, too.
Paul immediately called their father and explained a little of what had taken place in his office but glossing over the secret employment. “I see a future for them in the legal side of diplomacy, Mr Sedgman. To that end, we must take control of this masochism that has now surfaced. I will be keeping in close touch with them and will be punishing them as and when they feel the need. Those punishments will be private, between us alone and will not be nearly as severe as you witnessed. They will be of a nature to regulate the twins’ urge for pain …”
“I see,” Bill Sedgman said. “And what role will Margaret and I have?”
“None, except to offer support and encouragement. Those two are very special people and are a credit to you. They came to me because they didn’t want to worry you with what they perceived to be a bizarre anomaly in their make-up. I don’t want you to talk to them about it, or about their future except perhaps the law degrees they will be pursuing. The other training they will have in the diplomatic field is to be a confidential matter at the moment.”
“Why?” asked their father.
“Let me just say there are areas of diplomacy that are somewhat more covert than others … I’m sure you understand, Mr Sedgman?”
Bill Sedgman understood. As a merchant, he had had little to do with his nation’s government except as it related to trade and employment but he knew there were things that happened behind the scenes that were crucial to national security and if the twins were considered eligible for such a course through life then he would be very proud of them. “I take it these are matters Margaret need not worry herself about, Mr. Donovan?”
“Exactly, Mr. Sedgman, however I will keep you posted on their progress, so far as I am able, anyway …”
The twins did indeed pass out of their schools as male and female dux and very near the top of the state levels. They were immediately accepted into the law faculty of Queensland University and the next year began their courses as law students. They also began their covert training as secret agents. But not without a number of visits to the inspectorate …
They had asked that their ‘punishments’ always be carried out there as the thrill of imagining what was behind the countless doors in the basement of the building was an added bonus to each visit.
Not that they were that many. They had quite a bit of catching up to do, school-wise and that was going to take up a fair bit of their time. But when they felt those strange urges, they contacted Paul and, usually over the weekend, went down to the grim concrete building in the CBD of Southport and there underwent more of the ritual torture that so inflamed their libido and yet calmed the weird urge to goof off.
As the number of visits increased exponentially, Paul tried to make the experiences as meaningful as he could for the pair of them but he discovered that their tolerance for pain and demands for more and more of it was growing at an alarming rate. He called his contact in the agency and informed him the pair of them were naturals. The agent told him to continue on with the ‘treatment’ until the end of the school year and then he would see about taking them in as trainees.
No longer was a simple beating across the buttocks with a cane nearly enough for the twins. To have been sufficiently effective, Paul would have had to give them thirty or more strokes and that would have left them raw and bleeding. Yes, it still hurt, but it took a lot longer now before the hurt sunk in and overrode the masochistic thrill of the naked punishment.
Accordingly, Paul used other methods. Painful and shameful but not as damaging to the flesh as a violent caning or flogging with a cat-o-nine-tails, although he did lash Wendy’s breasts with such an implement once.
“You boy, over there to the wall. Up on the box and raise your hands up towards that ring.” He pointed to a heavy iron ring dangling from a lug set about seven feet up from the floor. There was a box in front of the spot and Craig, who, with Wendy had been ordered to strip naked, stepped up onto it and obediently raised his hands up towards the ring. Paul slipped one end of a pair of cuffs through the ring and then snapped them around his wrists and stepped down off the box.
He grinned sourly at Craig. “You’re not going to enjoy the next hour or so, boy.” As he said the words, he kicked the box away from under Craig’s feet so that he now dangled from the ring, his toes an inch or so up from the floor and quite unable to reach it.
Paul stepped back and looked over the boy’s superb body, containing his lust but only just, for in that position, Craig looked even more stupendous.
Wendy watched and waited, aware that this time she was the principal actor in the drama but as yet unsure of how it would be played out.
Paul kept her waiting for some time, enjoying looking at the boy and quite happy to leave her standing there, as naked as her brother, fidgeting as she anticipated her own coming pain. Craig was already in pain. He might not have been hanging by his thumbs — the proverbial method of suspension and the one favoured in cartoons on the subject, but suspension by the wrists is nearly as bad and they and his shoulders and arms were already screaming at him.
But then it was time to attend to Wendy.
He made her stand in front of a four inch stainless steel pipe that stood in the centre of the room and was affixed to the floor and ceiling. She too had to raise her hands up above her head and behind the pipe where her wrists were manacled and hooked over a lug up above her head. Then he made her move her feet back behind the pipe, manacling her ankles together behind it. This pose forced her breasts to thrust out beautifully for the kiss of the whip.
As he strolled over to the sideboard on which it lay, she watched him fearfully. This might be thought strange as they had come here quite voluntarily. To understand this, you must understand masochism. The masochist feels pain the same as a
n ordinary person. It is just that he derives a sexual thrill from that pain, or, more often, from the anticipation of that pain (and sometimes a combination of both). It is therefore perfectly normal for a masochist to delight in anticipating the pain and to experiencing it, but still fear it at the same time.
And so now, while Wendy was very wet between her legs and incredibly excited at Paul’s drama, she was also very fearful of the coming pain.
The inspector picked up the Cat, that most feared of all whips, with the possible exception of the bull-whip, which can, in the right hands, with a single stroke, open a man’s flesh as cleanly as a surgeon’s scalpel. He drew the plaited leather tails through his fingers almost lovingly as he strolled back to stand in front of the lovely girl, this eighteen year old paragon of slender, lithe, athletic beauty.
Then he reached out and cupped her so perfect breast in his free hand. “So full and smooth,” he murmured. “So soft and creamy …”
She hung there and squirmed in shame—as he intended she would and he strung it out, aware the pair of them would be delighting in that shame — deep down. He allowed his hands to stroke over her body, even delving into her vagina and of course spending a lot of time fondling her breasts.
But then it was time to hurt her. He stepped back, raised the whip and swung it against her bosom. “Aaagheeeaaaghooowwwghaaagh!” she screamed. He had hit her hard. Going soft would not serve any purpose at all. They were there to be punished and he would fulfil that role.
Her chest now revealed a number of marks. Just as the cane to the buttocks causes the flesh first to whiten along the track of the cane’s path and then, as it suffuses with blood, to turn pink, red and then a deep crimson, so does the whip leaves it mark, the lashes turning the flesh red almost at once. And on the breasts, not designed for such abuse, the pain is horrible.
Paul stepped back to admire his work while Craig’s cock, already at full mast, now began to throb as he watched his sister punished. It wasn’t that he gloried in her pain for neither of them were sadists; it was that he knew how much she was enjoying her humiliation and pain, despite her scream.
Paul had to fight to keep his own cock under control. Oh how he would have liked to have taken the pair of them to a certain room in the complex, a room the inspectors used on occasion for their pleasure … but he didn’t. By now he loved this pair very much but to have taken them and made love to them would have been a sacrilege in his eyes; a totally unacceptable breach of trust. He felt and fondled them for that was a legitimate part of shaming them but he wouldn’t go any further.
He gave her four more strokes, each of them hard enough to make her scream and when he had finished, her breasts were very red and throbbing with pain — but she felt wonderful, she said …
Too many such punishments would not only damage her fine skin, but also harden it and above all he wanted to preserve the pair of them in the perfection of their young adulthood. Accordingly, it was necessary to use other methods to assuage their growing lust for shame and pain.
One such was “The Bar.”
They were led into the room naked as always, their clothes having been stripped from them in a small room near the front entrance to the inspectorate so that they had to traverse its corridors stark naked—as indeed, did each recalcitrant student or young adult brought here for correction. There were never many such subjects. People behaved themselves these days! And so it was more the staff of the building, all of whom were naturally fully clothed whom they had to face as they went down this corridors up or down these stairs and along more passages.
When they entered the room containing the bar, they were surprised for at first they didn’t even see it and the only other thing in the room was a double set of stocks, a single chair (for the inspector) and a small sideboard against one wall. There was also a cupboard built into the side wall.
The bar was actually a wooden rod about the thickness of a broomstick. It was about six feet long and suspended at both ends and in its middle at a height of three inches above the floor. Behind it were two sets of stocks set eighteen inches behind the bar.
“Kneel down on the bar, you two,” said Paul softly.
They did and he now enclosed their ankles in the stocks, raising the top half of the split board, placing the ankles in the slots provided and then replacing the top half of the board so they were locked into place. The ankle slots were wide apart, and this forced their knees wide as well.
Paul them strode over to the cupboard and came back with a pair of boards. These were actually one board split in two and hinged at one end. The two sections, when taken together were two feet wide, three inches thick and three feet long. They were thus heavy.
The inspector opened one of them and told Wendy to hold her hands up next to her shoulders. He then fitted the three holes in the two boards around her neck and wrists: the larger central one accommodating her neck, the other two, set a foot either side of the middle one, her wrists. He closed and locked the pair of boards that now rested on her shoulders, weighing down on them heavily—and thus adding to the weight bearing down on the soft hollow behind her kneecaps.
He did the same with Craig and then hooked both boards together so they were unable to twist and turn too much.
He looked at his watch. “It’s now nine o’clock. I will check on you at noon…”
The pair of naked teenagers twisted their heads as much as they were able inside the heavy board collars and sighed at each other. Three hours? They couldn’t last that long, surely?
Already they were both in a great deal of pain. The terrible ache in their knees was rising to a crescendo and the massive weight of the boards over their necks and wrists were horrible too.
And yet Craig’s cock was rigid and trembling with the power of his incredibly inflamed libido and Wendy’s was just as much aroused even if it wasn’t quite as obvious. Her nipples were hard and jutting and her nether lips inflamed. Her clit was as hard as her brother’s cock but of course it wasn’t quite as prominent.
Paul had no intention of leaving them for three hours. Indeed, he prowled around them now, admiring their perfectly erect bodies and the fine muscles that were now in constant movement as they tried, constantly, to find a more comfortable position. They couldn’t.
The stocks held their ankles firm. They couldn’t get off the bar and the yokes around their necks gave them very little movement in their upper bodies. It was even difficult to move their heads all that much due to the thickness of the wood.
But the two constraints did nothing to hide their bodies and their sexual organs, his permanently erect, its skin gleaming it was stretched so tight; hers pulsing with lust. For there was no doubt that although they were in pain, it was at a level they were easily able to bear and it inflamed their libidos even more.
Paul did get up eventually and left them alone but not for long. He dimmed the lights to help add to their uncertainty about time but then he returned after an hour, looking ostentatiously at his watch as he entered the room. “Just on noon … I wonder though if I shouldn’t leave you here another hour?”
“No, please …” they chorused, but he noted Craig’s cock was still hard. God, it must be aching, he thought.
“No, I don’t think you’ve had nearly enough yet …” and with that he turned on his heel and walked out. But he came back in another half hour, long enough to fool them into thinking an hour had elapsed — and then repeated the ploy.
They thought they had been there five hours when it was only just over two but this time he did indeed release them, removing the yokes and then undoing the stocks so they could get up, rubbing their knees and their necks ruefully.
Paul smiled as he showed them his watch. “See, only a little more than two hours. Fooled you, didn’t I?”
They laughed. “Just as well, Sir. I’ve still got a lot of homework
and I was getting worried about it,” said Craig and Wendy nodded her agreement to his words.
“Al lright, off you go. Ring me when you feel the need for another session …”
Chapter 4
Their parents were not all that happy with the new arrangements. They had hoped the twins would be going to Bond University, based on the Gold Coast but the Agency had other ideas.
A representative had called on Bill Sedgman in his office and asked him to accompany him outside. Bill smiled (to himself) as he recognised the need for secrecy. “Mr. Sedgman, we want to recruit your son and daughter. We will take them to Brisbane and house them in our training facility where we will train them and from where they will attend the University of Queensland. At first, they will be able to come home once a month on weekends but gradually, we will wean them away from this need. I know this sounds heartless but if they are to be successful in what they will be doing, it will be necessary …”
“I wonder if we are doing the right thing by them,” their father wondered aloud.
“We have assessed them Sir, and we believe they are eminently suited to this kind of work. They have the brains and the inclination, but more importantly, they have exactly the right temperament for it. Have no fears about a career … they will be paid as university graduates from the beginning and since they won’t need the money (for we provide everything in our facility), they will begin to build an investment portfolio that will, in ten years, allow them to retire if they wished. But when their active life as agents is over, say in ten to twenty years, they may then, if they so desire, begin another life as inside agents, just like me.”
“You were once an operative?” asked the twins’ father.
“Indeed I was. But getting back to Craig and Wendy, we will wish to take them early in January. They won’t start their law studies at QU until March and this will give us time to orient them in a few key areas, security and secrecy being among the most important.”
