Pleasure Dungeon I,II,III Package: Whipped into Submission, The Naughty Lady Gets a Spanking, Ginger and the Gadget in Her Rear

by John Rivers

  I returned to Mr. Johnson about midmorning the next day. I had left the previous evening well satisfied I had done something that not only Mr. Johnson, but myself, had enjoy. I have never like the term “blow-job” and wish there were a nicer name besides “oral sex” for what I had done, but nonetheless I had given my first “blow-job.” I had enjoyed it immensely. I would give numerous blow-jobs in the coming years. Only a few days later, I gave Tommy one. That had made him a very happy young man. I also intended to give Mr. Owens and Mr. Innis one if they wanted it.

  Sitting me down in his living room, Mr. Johnson sit on the coffee table directly in front of me. He patted me on the knee. “Ginger, have you ever had an enema?”

  I had never had one, but I knew what they were. In fact, before she passed away, Aunt Milly and Uncle John had given them in their clinic. There were several women and a few men who came regularly to have an enema to help their digestive system. It was funny how it worked out, but it seemed Uncle John had always given the women theirs and Aunt Milly had taken care of the men. Mrs. Watson, the lady I mentioned earlier, took an enema on a regular basis. There were times she would come in the morning to buy her herbs and return in the evening after Uncle John was home to take her enema. Strange.

  “No, sir, but I know what they are. Are you going to give me one?”

  “Yes, I am. Let me explain why. I told you I wanted to insert something other than the probe, remember. Well, what I’m going to insert into your rectum will go a lot deeper than the probe. I don’t want there to be any obstruction, understand?”

  I simply nodded. “What are you going to put in my rectum, Mr. Johnson?”

  “I’m going to put my penis, Ginger. I think it will be just as good for you as the probe and will get a lot deeper. You understand?”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded.

  “First, you can never tell anyone about this, Ginger. Not even your uncle.”

  I laughed. “You don’t have to worry about that, Mr. Johnson. That would be embarrassing for anyone to know you put your penis up my butt. Gee, whiz.”

  “You’re a good girl, Ginger. If you will, why don’t you go ahead and take off your clothes.”

  After I had removed all my clothes, I thought Mr. Johnson might tell me to lie on the bed I’d lain on yesterday. Instead he informed me he had lain a towel on the bathroom floor. I was to lie on the towel as a precaution. I had to agree with him there. I had never had an enema and wasn’t sure how well I could hold one. Of course, the toilet was only a few feet away.

  Fortunately for me, this enema wasn’t as big as Uncle John and Aunt Milly gave. It was in a small container and had its own nozzle. It wouldn’t go deep into my belly, Mr. Johnson assured me, but would clean only what needed to be cleaned. I was certainly glad of that. It only took him a moment to squirt it up my butt.

  After sitting on the toilet a few minutes, I should be clean, he assured me. When I was through, he had me bend over and he washed my behind with soap and a washcloth. I was now squeaky clean inside and outside.

  I was more than a little apprehensive. Mr. Johnson’s penis wasn’t much bigger around than the probe I’d had stuck up my butt more time than I could count, but it was extremely longer. He assured me he wouldn’t put it in far enough to hurt me. I had to trust him on that.

  We did this on the same bed we’d use yesterday for my therapy. He instructed me to get on my knees right at the edge of the bed. He said he would stand on the floor for a while. We might change positons later. I didn’t ask how long this type of treatment would last. I’d bet Mr. Johnson was just experimenting for the present and really couldn’t say if this would do me any good or not. I didn’t mind. I suppose my butthole might be a little looser than a lot of girls my age and I wouldn’t have any problems taking it.

  Mr. Johnson asked me to reach back and pull my cheeks apart. He then lubricated my butthole inside and out. Shortly after that he began inserting his organ. Although I could feel the head as it passed through my sphincter, he still went slowly and inserted it inch by inch. He had it in a significant way when he asked me if it hurt. Although I felt no discomfort, he chose not to insert it any deeper at the present. Instead, he began moving it back and forth. Although I couldn’t see, I knew he was bringing it almost out during the backward stroke. He hadn’t moved it back and forth but a few times before I realized how good this felt. I liked it. I like it so much better than the probe, which never moved. I didn’t realize it then, but this would be the first of dozens of times Mr. Johnson would fuck me in the ass. In fact, at the time, considering it another form of therapy, I didn’t realize he was fucking me in the ass. I know it now and I still love it.

  Even today, several years later and me being twenty-five years old, I still drop by Mr. Johnson’s house on occasions. We still go through the same procedure. He’ll give me a Fleet and then literally ream my asshole. If my husband ever wants doggy-style sex with the light on shortly after I visit Mr. Johnson, I’ll be in big trouble. I’d never be able to explain why my butthole was gaped open.

  * * * *

  A preview of Ginger and the Gadget in Her Rear # 2

  Pleasure Dungeon # IV

  Ginger and the Gadget in Her Rear # 2

  Chapter One

  A few years back, before I became manager of my company, I was an outside sales representative. In other words, I was a saleswoman who got to drive around a lot. I had customers all over the Las Vegas/North Las Vegas area. This may have help to further my delinquency. Not that I goofed off on my job. I figured I owed the company eight hours a day and they got their eight hours. It might not have been consecutively, but they got it.

  Thanks to Uncle John and his ingenious gadget, I have a lot of friends. As the old saying goes: I have friends up the ass, which was literally true. Although I still visited my friends, until this day no one’s but my husband’s penis has been in my pussy. I’m sorry if that doesn’t set with some folks, but that’s just the way I am.

  Uncle John is retired now and doesn’t go out of town a lot. He gives me most all my treatments. Perhaps I should rephrase that. Most of my therapy is given at Uncle John’s house. Almost without fail, Mr. Innis comes over to help or simply watch. When he handles the probe, he will sit on the edge of the couch and have me get on my knees with my butt upturned. He will then put it in me from the rear. A couple of Saturdays, Mr. Owens visited to watch. After Mr. Innis switched my butt as well as my butthole and pussy, he had taken out his thermometer and inserted it in my rectum. I had to hold that position until it beeped. I suppose I should appreciated their concern.

  As I mentioned before, a few years back I learned the Yoga Nidrasana pose. Uncle John liked that pose very much. Not long after I had graduated high school, he said he was toying with the idea of not only giving me my punishment in that position, but my therapeutic spanking as well. I had asked if that would be enough variety, since I was used to changing positons.

  Uncle John surprised me when he showed me a small riding crop he had recently purchased. He said he had gotten the idea from Mr. Innis who liked to whip me with a switch. Coming up with a switch was a lot of trouble, Uncle John said, and this worked better. He also said he had decided to whip the crevice between my buttocks for punishment and, using the same crop, whip my butt cheeks for my therapeutic spanking. He said he figured I was old enough now that a few swats to my vaginal and anal area wouldn’t hurt me. He added that it might also help if he gave a little attention to my breasts.

  I said it probably would.

  I supposed this changed my session somewhat. Once I was in my yoga positon with my feet tucked behind me, Uncle John stood at my head. Spanking my butt cleft with the crop in one hand, he held a nipple in the other. Unlike some who had twisted my nipples, he just held it. After a few strokes, he switched his hand to the other nipple.

  Once my spankings were out of the way, arranging the gadget near me, he took a seat on the floor near my butt. In this position
, my back was bowed and in turn that brought my butt off the floor and pointed it almost upward. Sitting Indian style, he scooted me down so my tailbone rested against his leg. He then inserted the probe into my vagina. I may have mentioned that he now almost always puts the probe in my vagina. Naturally, once a month, he still puts it in my butt.

  “This beats having to bend over for twenty minutes,” he declared.

  I agreed.

  Getting comfortable, not long into this, he borrowed a little lubricant from my pussy and rubbed it on my butthole. Knowing I enjoyed it, he often massaged the outside of my anus. I wonder if Uncle John had noted any difference in the opening. Apparently, he didn’t. It hadn’t been but a few days before that Mr. Owens had fucked me up the ass. Mr. Owens? You might ask. Yes, Mr. Owens. Well, indirectly. You got to hear this story, but I’ll get to that later.

  A few months back, calling on a customer out on Blue Diamond Road, I was on my way back when I approached an intersection that I recognized. Before I reached the crossroad, I remembered why it was familiar. Down the street to my left was the house with the large dungeon in the basement. The thought sent a slight tingling through my groin. Being a devil-may-care individual, I put on my blinker and turned onto the street. Just for the hell of it, I was going to pay the owner a visit. I recalled his name being Gordon. I wasn’t going for a session in the dungeon, but even if that was on my mind, my schedule wouldn’t have allowed. I mostly wanted to see if he was still here and pay him a friendly visit. He might not recognize me since he saw more of my ass than he did my face. I might have to remind him.

  “I remember you well. One of the reason I recall your name is because I have another Ginger who visited me from time to time. I now have three. I also recall the gadget. Are you still using that?”

  “Once a week like clockwork. Of course, Uncle John usually inserts it in my vagina now that I’m no longer a virgin.”

  “That’s good,” Gordon pursed his lips to offer. “I bet your butthole was getting tired of that.”

  “Well, not really. Some people still put it in my butt. I’ve also had more than that in my butt a few times since I last saw you,” I laughed to inform him.

  He laughed with me. Gordon was very friendly. He didn’t seem to mind that I came without calling first. He escorted me to his kitchen and told me to have a seat at the breakfast bar. He took a seat himself. “Well, what else is new since the last time I saw you?” He asked.

  “I’m married now.”

  Gordon mouthed a silent “Oh.” Nodded as if he was thinking on something he asked, “What does your husband say about your therapy?”

  “He doesn’t know and I intend to keep it that way.”

  Gordon made another silent, “Oh.”

  I glanced at the top of the bar and saw some items I hadn’t paid any attention to when first taking a seat.

  Gordon saw the look on my face and hastily stated. “I don’t keep them on the bar. They’re just air-drying. I sterilize them in the washing machine and then I let them air-dry before taking them back to the dungeon.” He looked as if he might be just a little embarrassed by the objects we were discussing. The items in question was a large array of butt plugs, dildoes, and what looked to be small chains with clamps on one end and various size weights on the other.

  “They have to be sterilized between clients. Air-drying is the best way to kill any remaining germs. Did you know dishes are air-dried in restaurants?”

  I realized the things would have to be sterilize, but hadn’t given it any thought.

  “What are these?” I picked up one of the chains with weights and clamps.

  “Those are called ‘pussy weights.’ They’re clamped to the outer lips. The heavy ones hurt like hell.”

  “I imagine so,” I agreed.

  I picked up another object that at first appear to be a dildo except it was about four inches long and less than an inch in diameter. It had no head or shape as a dildo would. It had a small base that allowed it to set upright.

  “What is this?”

  Gordon chuckled. “That’s something my uncle’s and my own friend John came up with to further humiliate certain clients. I call it a ‘sphincter tester.’ I don’t know what they called it.”

  “How does it work?” I asked.

  “The individual being trained has to pick it up with their butthole. They get a lash if they drop it. They always drop it. It’s all but impossible. It comes out when they stand. I’ve only used it on one client and I was teasing her.”

  Feeling a little mischievous, I allowed, “I bet I could pick it up. I wouldn’t mind trying those weights on my pussy either. Do you having someone coming?”

  “Not until later.”

  “Can I try? Will you put a couple weights on my pussy?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Gordon said nonchalantly.

  While I was taking off my panties and toying with the idea of leaving on my skirt, Gordon set the “sphincter tester” in the middle of the kitchen floor. Realizing my skirt would get in the way, I also took it off. I was nude from the waist down.

  “You want me to wear the weights while I’m picking up the “thing?’ I laughed, about to ask him for some lubricant, but decided that would make it harder to hold.

  “That sounds cool,” he said. “You’ll need to squat while I attach the clamps. Wait a minute. I got a better idea. Do you mind getting on the bar so I won’t have to sit on the floor?”

  I didn’t mind. Bare-ass as a monkey, I put a knee on a stool and climbed atop the bar. Turning to face him, I squatted.

  Gordon took a seat on a stool, which placed my pussy about eye level. He chose to use a pair of the smaller ones first. They hardly pulled my outer labia, but at least I knew how they felt. I’d still bet an extremely heavy pair could, indeed, be painful.

  “What would your uncle say if you had on a pair of these the next time he gave you therapy?”

  I laughed. “I guess I’d have to tell him it was another form of therapy I’d picked up somewhere.”

  Gordon nodded and laughed. “I’ll tell you what, while you’re on the bar just stay there and I’ll put the tester on the bar rather than the floor.”

  “Are you going to spank me if I drop it?”

  “No, but I am going to pull these chains.”

  We both laughed, but I wasn’t sure whether he was joking or not.

  Once he set the gismo on the bar, sitting back on the stool, he positioned it directly beneath my butthole. “Hold my hands for support,” he told me.

  With my pussy spread almost in his face, Gordon watched as I centered my anus over the slender shaft and eased down. I didn’t intend to take much of it. If I could get an inch or so in it should be far enough for my sphincter to squeeze down on.

  Once I had what I felt was about an inch up my rear, I squeeze as hard as I could and pushed up at my knees. I had the thing off the counter.

  “You have to hold it for ten seconds,” he chuckled to say.

  “You didn’t say anything about ten seconds before.”

  Try as I may, after a few seconds the damn thing slipped out and fell on the counter.

  “Don’t you dare pull one of those chains,” I told him. “I’d never explain any bruising on my pussy.”

  “Ok, I was just joking about that, but I am going to have to spank you.”

  After he helped me down, I said, “I can’t have any sign on my butt either. You’d have to give me love taps.”

  “I can do that,” he said and took my hand and led me and my bare-ass to the sofa. Positioning himself in the center, he instructed me to lie across his lap. With his right hand, he strummed my clit while giving me playful slaps on the butt with his left. I told him not to bring me to climax because I need to get back to work. Ten minutes later, I was in my car headed toward the Strip.

  Chapter Two

  I promised to tell you about Mr. Owens so now might be a good time to do so. For those of you who are not familiar with my st
ory, let me bring you up to date. When I was sixteen and already a well matured young lady, I went to live with my Uncle John and Aunt Millie when my mother passed away. Although I wish things had been different, at least I was happy to be living with my favorite relatives. Both practiced the holistic arts and had a clinic in their house.

  Uncle John was only in the clinic part-time. After he was off work, he saw people for two or three hours in the afternoon. Uncle John was an electronic technician in the gaming industry where we live in Las Vegas. In his spare time, he invented things that could be used in the holistic arts, such as diagnostic equipment.

  I couldn’t begin to name all the things he invented. The man is literally a genius. The thing he invention that played a role in my life was a gadget that emitted sonic waves. According to Uncle John and Aunt Milly, sonic waves were healthy when emitted from inside the body. There were only two ways this could be done and that was vaginally or anally. There was a probe connected to the device that would emit the waves. I supposed most of the women coming to Uncle John for treatment had the sonic waves induced through their vaginas. It was also necessary for the client to be completely nude. Something about blocking the waves if I remember right.

  Although I only clandestinely observed a couple of treatments, it appeared that some of the women needed to be masturbated during their sessions. On the other hand, I only observed the masturbation one time. Uncle John was certainly masturbating that lady.

  It was only a matter of time before it was decided that I would benefit from the therapy. I didn’t know how I could have been any healthier with my C-cup breasts and being built like the old outdoor edifice. However, Uncle John and Aunt Millie felt even that could be improved. Since I was a virgin and didn’t need anything disturbed in my vagina, my tight little butthole would be used.