Red as an Apple

Red as an Apple

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You don't see many spankings on the street these days.

And that was by no means the last time that Susan ran through the spanking in her mind.

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She was wakened by being fucked.

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Not love, not living together.  Not practical arrangements.  Not even money.   Bottoms.

IV.    Jonatán mester álma.

There were two huge tits in her kitchen the next morning.

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"Tim Russell is just deciding what sort of breast he likes best, Professor.  Big or little.  But I think he has decided on big."

"Dhen he is fool, Miss Thomasz.   But I see you have right vay play vit your sex toy."   Melman ran his fingers across Tim's ass, tracing the fading welts left by the riding crop last night.   His excitement was obvious.  Tim bent over, with his elbows on the table, and waggled his ass back and forth.    He had set the table with a cloth, flowers, and folded napkins, and there, in the middle of the table, along with the  salt and pepper and the syrup for the pancakes, was the riding crop, ready for use.    Tim pointed to the whip with his chin, and then looked up at Susan's face, smiling.   Tim might not have wanted a whipping from a man if it was just two men alone, but to be whipped by a man while Susan watched was something he was quite excited about.

But Melman didn't take the hint, so Tim had to ask him: "Whip me if you want to, professor.  Susan will enjoy--" but then Tim broke off.     He looked at Susan's face, then the professor's.  

"It's him!    I knew it was a professor or a lawyer or something.   I am just a sex toy then.   What else could I be?  Of course it's him!  Walking into your kitchen without knocking!   He's your boyfriend!   A professor.  I'm just a kid.   A cowboy.   I don't have a chance."

Susan couldn't believe that Tim would suspect her of having Professor Melman for a boyfriend - the man was an antique.  Everyone knew the story - he had slipped out of Hungary as a teenager, after the Russians killed his father in the '56 invasion.  Crossing the border with guards shooting at him.   That made him - Susan did the math - well not all that old, really - maybe only about seven years older than she was, if he was, say, fourteen when he escaped Hungary.  But he looked so old and fat that he didn't even seem like a sexual being to Susan.   Not a sexual being except that he slept with this bimbo student.   That didn't surprise her.

Professor Melman still had his hand on Tim's ass.   He was starting to spank it lightly.

He asked Tim: "Vill you allow me?"

"I'm asking you to - if Susan wishes it.   Do you want one from me, after?"

"Iff Miss Thomasz vishes it, ov course!  I like on my breasts ze whipping, vhat you say, ze nipples.   Zo, ve are both her slavvs, ordered to vhip each other for her pleasure.   Is fery gute.   You are my fellow slavv of the sex, so ve shall be friends."

Melman started to unbutton his shirt, after taking off his jacket.  Even Tim could see it was a more fashionable suit than most professors wore.  The dapper professor loosened his tie, and slipped the shirt collar out from under it.  It seemed he wanted to be whipped wearing his tie, but nothing else.  He pinched his own nipples hard, using his fingernails.

"So it is you.   You are her lover.   I knew it."

"I?"

"I know she has one; she told me she has one.   And I figure it has to be a professor.   I mean, can you imagine her with a carpenter or a plumber?   Her living room is wall to wall books!  So I think it's you."

"I assure you iss not I.   Although she iss fery attractif  fery charrming - quite charming."

"I hate you.   But I know I'm not what she wants.   Of course not.   But can you pass the test any more than I could?"

"Vass is test?"

"Lick her tits, and Anna's, and get a boner when you do hers, and not when you do Anna's."

"Vass is boner?"

Melman - Matolcsi - naked except for his tie, turned away from them and bent over the counter, in position to be thrashed.    His professorial buttocks were not marked by a recent whipping, but there were scars across them from some long-ago torture.   And there were no love bites, either, and no signs he had been whipped on his nipples as he said he liked.   There were no love bites or whip marks on Anna, either.    Susan luxuriated in the bites, scratches, and red spanking patches that decorated her body.   Especially the pattern of bite marks she had asked Tim to make on her breasts.   With them, she felt she could rule the world.    She was even prouder of the criss-cross pattern of whip marks on her bottom, but for now she was sitting on that.    She would pick her moment to show Melman.

Tim inflated with hope when he saw Susan glance at the marks on her own body, and on his, and at the professor's and Anna's unmarked skins.   But Matolcsi had just turned his ass to them as if unaware of any sort of competition, as if there could be no competition.   To Susan, Tim seemed to have all the advantages, if there was any rivalry.  Tim had exotic dark good looks; handsome enough to look at; but when he moved naked he was stunningly beautiful - with all the grace and style of a dancer or a gymnast.  Running horses were not more beautiful.  And in any sort of physical competition, in any contest of strength or agility or physical skill, there could be no competition - Tim was overwhelmingly the winner.  The two men had met in debate already, to Tim's crushing victory, and it seemed his intelligence and spirit would defeat the professor as much in any mental competition, as in any physical one.   The young ranch-hand even seemed to know more than the professor, Matolcsi really didn't know much outside his own field of sociology, and it seemed Tim had devoured his small-town library, perhaps reading even in the saddle.  But Tim had no sense of his own worth, in comparison with a professor, while Matolcsi was condescending to Tim, like the lord of the schloss to a herd-boy who guarded cattle on the vast Hungarian plain.

Susan wanted to see that sorry Hungarian ass thrashed.    And the professor seemed to be willing.    But Tim reached in front, and grabbed the professor's dick, and pulled it straight out.    He said: "a boner."   And he made thrusting motions with his hips.

"Ahh I ssee,  a boner.   Vit a bone in it.   In Magyar ve say pénisz vit gristle ist merev - stiff.   A man has gristle we say - that means he acts, it means he is ready.   I have gristle to have whipping, it means I have courage to do it, how you say ze guts to do it."   Tim's pull on the Hungarian's cock had been a hard yank, and now the professor was thrusting it out and boasting.

Tim said : "We say, 'the balls to do it.'  Can you lick Anna's tits, and not get a boner, and then get one licking Susan's?"

"And ze forfeit iss?"

"A licking - I mean a whipping, not a licking with the tongue.  Licking's just what we call it."

"You are good professor of American of me.  Ve mus do licking to get ze licking, is goot.  Sso I haff vin get thiss lick-king?"

"I meant the winner whips the loser."

"That iss gute, alsso.  Ve do it.   I have ballss to do it so."

"How many strokes?"

"Ve do it Hungarian, no?    Ze vinner can doo vhat he likes."

"I agree.  And I won't go easy on you."

"You haff vin, first!"

Matolcsi's rooster crest was now as erect as Tim's, and his voice was cock-crow, as the two naked males strutted and tried to intimidate each other - Matolcsi rather impeded by the fact that his trousers were around his ankles.   The college tie gave him some status - although Susan suspected it wasn't Oxford or Cambridge but some not-quite-top place like Reading University.   Tim had the body of a sex god, but he himself thought nothing of that.   Victory in the strutting contest went to the Magyar.

"Tim, you don't have to do this.    Melman will beat you bloody if he wins - not just some light smacking like we do when we have sex.   A real beating."

"I have to go through with it now, Sue.   Whatever he wants to do to me.   It will be all right; I've had a real beating before.   I'll survive this one too."

It seemed Tim was conceding defeat before the contest even started.    Tim had his head bowed, and his whole body seemed to shrink.   Susan decided that when Tim bent to take his beating from Melman, she would lay her naked body on top of his, and make the professor beat her first to get to Tim.     Tim's cock was shrunk and pulled into his body.   Susan glanced at Matolcsi's cock.   It was a small one compared to Tim's, but it was rising.

With a feeling of misery, as if she, along with Tim, had already lost, she backed up to the sink - leaving Anna front and center facing the two naked men.   Tim bent to lick the large brown nipples.   No eyes closed this time, and no reciting the pledge.   And no glancing down to check his cock either - it was down and he knew it.    He did not spend a lot of time on the first nipple, and even less on the second.    When he pulled away to show the level of his cock to his rival, it was as down as a cock can be.

"That wass not time enough long," Matolcsi complained.

Tim ignored him, and switched to Susan's breasts, looking confident.  His eyes lingered over the pattern of bite marks.  He bit her nipples, he didn't lick them.   She shuddered and moaned with pleasure - she was play-acting.   In fact, she was too frightened of Tim getting a severe whipping to be aroused, but she pretended to be aroused to help to arouse him.    He did the other nipple, and pulled away.   He turned to show his cock to the professor before checking it himself - and then he was surprised.  It was only up a little.

So then it was Matolcsi's turn, and he moved in to take his taste of Anna's balloons of pleasure.   He spent longer at it than Tim had.   After a long time of diligent licking, he pulled away, to show a cock about halfway risen.    Then he moved into place to do Susan's nipples, without gazing at them reverently the way Tim had done.

But it was fantastically sexy, because he enjoyed it so much - he licked for his pleasure, not hers; to win the contest he needed to be aroused, and his quest to get an erection from her was fantastically sexy for her.

Tim would lose, and get a beating, because he couldn't help being more aroused by Anna than by Susan - and here was Susan feeling more aroused by Melman than by her own beautiful Tim.   She tried to think of something not at all sexy.   She thought of - Robin.    She didn't mean to, but she couldn't help it - she thought of Robin licking her tits, about the least sexy thing she could think of.   Robin got his technique out of books, and he paid too much attention to her pleasure, instead of spontaneously doing what he enjoyed.    Poor Robin.    She understood him better now, she thought.  The man who in bed had existed only to serve, had needed a woman who knew how to command.   When Robin came too soon, which he often did, he always asked to be punished for it.   And then Susan would assure him it was all right, not to worry, it wasn't a problem, it did not matter.   Did not matter!   What a fool she'd been, to say that to him - if his coming too soon did not matter to her, then his love-making did not matter to her.    If she had instead spent ten minutes on Robin's bottom with his own belt, pretending to be really angry at the pleasure he'd cost her, things might have turned out differently between them.

If she got back to Robin, that's how it would be - a severe whipping, every time, for not pleasuring her enough.   And as the slave, forced to pleasure and beaten for not pleasuring, he would at last be getting what he needed, and his excitement would have to be enough.   He wasn't a wild man; he wasn't a cowboy, he wasn't out of control --but, well, still, he was considerate, and he had learned a good trick or two from The Joy of Sex.

Her thoughts of Robin, her thoughts of making do with Robin, put Matolcsi off his stride.   When he pulled away from her, his cock was barely higher than when he started.

There was no clear winner in the contest so far.   Tim moved in to start the second round on Anna's tits; he did well, spending longer than he had the first time, and ending with a cock almost limp.    Then Matolcsi took a turn with Anna.

Anna said "This contest it isz - to not get merev boner vhen you lihck my cikik?   How you zay, my apples?"

"Your tits, Anna."

"Fasz kivan!   I think you lose!"    And then Anna started what seemed to Susan to be blatantly obvious fake orgasms - really awful ones.    But they did the trick - Matolcsi got a tight hard erection - the first in the game, so far.

The professor was happy.   He said: "I tink I have loosing game.   I shall get licking"

Anna said "I don't think so," somewhat mysteriously.    But then Susan and Matolcsi turned to look in the direction she was looking.    Tim, besides having a spearlike erection, was staring at Anna's tits with his eyes glazed and his tongue hanging out of his mouth.   He didn't even hear it when Susan called his name.

"It iss what you say - even.    Tie.   Ve bot gets vipping, no?"

Susan said: "No, I think Tim wins, I mean, loses.   I mean, he's the one who gets whipped.   But afterwards, I'll whip you if you want, Professor Melman.   We could do it next week."

Anna said : "Oh no you shall not ze Matolcsi vipp!   He is great man - ze Matolcsi boy!"

"What is she talking about, Professor Melman?   I can't make out her accent."

"It iss nothink - a messtake only.   They in Magyar say vhen I was tortured of Russians, it was to say ze vhereabouts my father hiding, and they ssay I fantastic torture endured and did nat tell - but isz all mistake as I haff said.   The Russians did not the Magyar speak, so how could they ask me of thiss?   Say me that?"

Tim said: "Perhaps you both spoke some German?   And you must have had at least some Russian in school in Hungary."

How did Tim know what subjects were taught in schools in Hungary in the 40's?    Susan had never even heard of schools in Hungary, and she had been an A student.

The professor blushed.  He was facing Tim, and Susan got her first chance to look carefully at the scars on his buttocks.   The scars were long healed, but it had been a terrible whipping - a whipping that cut the skin with every stroke, like a whipping with barbed wire, and from the looks of it, the wounds had been left to fester, and that was why they had  left scars.    Susan had always supposed that torture whipping was on the back, but Matolcsi had been whipped only on his buttocks.   Did the Russians have a sexual sadist to do their torturing?   The scars ran up and down as well as across, and the up-and-down ones ran deep into his buttcrack; he had been whipped on his asshole with his cheeks spread--whipped to draw blood.   There were other scars around his asshole.   When Susan lightly touched the buttcrack scars with her finger, to feel the jaggedness, he flinched as if from a jolt of electricity.

"They raped you, didn't they, Professor Melman?    Every Russian soldier in the outfit that was torturing you, raped you, until you were bleeding from all around your rectum.   This wasn't just one penis."

Tim said: "Those god-damn commie bastards!"

"They vere in a foreign country - it iss same vit any army."

"Not the American Army."

"It is same.   I havv done ze sociology study ov thiss, in Viet Nam ze army.   When soldiers in Nam they are bored, they play game - a soldier stands naked, and ze others they throw ze stones at him - to hit his pénisz.   It is very much hurt, iff they hit.  I try it vit platoon I study.   They vere such ferry gute shots."

"That's not what the Russians did to you.   Did the Americans rape all the Viet Cong boys when they took a village?"

"It was not like that.   It was like game of rocks and pénisz, at start.   In Russia new cadet is victim - he iss made naked to run, and through woods chased - is happen all time in Russia army school  - and with wooden spoons and birch sticks is he is whipped when he is caught.  They did so vit us, but vit young Russian soldiers also.   And if young boy vit no beard is vwirgin, his is on his pénisz also, to see if he is man and will merez get, from slapping ovf pénisz by boys.  Is verry popular and to every cadet in Russian army it happens all time but government says iss not allowed and iss not happenings."

"But what does an initiation for cadets have to do with you, a prisoner?"

"Russians say they are in Hungary velcome army of liberation, not invasion.   Is privilege - troublemake boys goes to happy youth camp, not to prison.  I was not prisoner, I was cadet."

"So you were arrested and they let you off easy, letting you go to the Hungarian army summer camp instead of to prison?  But it was really a prison camp run by Russians?"

"Russian soldier boys, they were bored.   For week I am in camp and effry day I am one chased, and vit ze birch vhipped.   Russian boys they same in Russia had, everyday birching for one week as new cadet in army, it is ze dedovshchina called.   They think us Magyar boys are city boys and should more tough be; and some Russian boys are chased, zhat zhey are tougher than ze Magyar, to show.   But I cry - I alone of Magyar boys cry, cry as baby.   They say to me that after sauna they are in Russia with twigs and spoons for pleasure vhip, more than this vipping that make me cry, and so they make with rods and cables to beat me, to give me good reason for cry.   And for six month I am to be cadet and I am told I by sargeant I will for evfry day haff vipping, for all six month and not one week, so I shall be tough.   But after two weeks I make plan -  I agree on sergeant's pénisz to suck, so I should not haff birching.   But then his pénisz in my anus he vould put, and I agree to this but say I vill suck it first, and then I his pénisz bit.   For that I am for some time rape, for many days rape, and for many times in one day rape.    And for five months more and a half I must haff same, for I am still for that time to be cadet at camp."

Anna was shivering, and she put back on her dress, and when she heard this latest revelation she put the heels of her hands in her ears, and sank moaning to the floor.

"No, no, no - you are Matolcsi boy!   You are hero!    These is all lies!   The hero of Magyar people cannot have be raped!"

"Iss vhat happen, Anna.    They did not ask me - where my father is.   I would have told them, I think.   They told me - they told us all, that men my father and like him were tools of ze British and American imperialists only.   And all we cadets thought they were ze enemies of Magyar people.   I was of my father ashamed.    But they did not ask me vhere he vass."

Tim said : "But you escaped?   You crossed the border with Russians shooting at you?   That part is true?"

"My father from the camp escaped me, and then I was not of him ashamed.   But father ssent me avay, for I vass no use to him in Magyar.   The heroes of the Magyar people verr the ones who stayed, Anna.  Who were killed.   My father.   Your grandfather."

Tim said: "You sound like a hero to me.    But I don't think I'll go into the Army.   I don't like the sound of stones thrown at my penis."

"You like better ze running from ze 'granddads' vit ze birch rods?"

"Well, I wasn't planning on joining the Russian Army.   But it does sound like more fun to run than to just stand there.   You still like being whipped, even though you were tortured so badly by the Russians?"

"It vass not torture, but ze vhipping only.  I haff not been vhipped vell at any time since.  I think of this all time, naked through the woods, and in my dreams, the running, but I haff not in real happening that I am run and vhipped.   It is for sex most arousing, to think this of running and catching."

"I think I shall dream of it, too, now.  But how can you say you weren't tortured?  You were raped."

"Sergeant who has rape me, that is crime to Russians - he face to be punish, to Army penal camp of Siberia, vhere it is serious, the punishment.   Only I escape and sso, no vitness, and he not to go Siberia, I think.   And I did his pénisz bit."

"He still shouldn't have raped you.    And the beatings they gave you were torture, I think."

"They vere for me fery hard, isz trouw.    But for boys of farm of Russia, it is beating like of otemi they get - most beloved father.   They vere homesick boys.  They haff to disciplines me in vays they knew."

"What did you do, to need to be disciplined?"

"Not vhat I do, vhat I vass.    I vass Budapesht.  I vass of educated classes - my father is not of farrm, he iss ..."

Anna said: "Tim, Kalman Matolcsi was leader of ze reform.    He was politician.  He wass of reform ze greatest man in our government."

"No Anna, my father vass not in the government.    He was újságíró only, Anna, journalist, essay in newspaper to write, and for money, a few to be the tutor he takes, students.   But all people my father knew - all people in Budapesht he knew.  He meets of foreigners, and I in Deutch can talk better than him.   Once at party I am little boy, and talk to Imry Nagy!   And Anna, my atya was not most strongly of reform, that iss not trouw.   He vass in middle, or more to Russia tending   He vas communist, he vas collectivist.  It vass from men such as my father iss, that Russians hope for velcome.   But no one in Hungary vill velcom - they are Russian, they are in Hungary, and so we hate zhem for that, whatever politics.   In street, ve boys make joke of Russian soldiers - we carry bricks wrapped in cloth, and ve talk - like ze soldiers vit radios, vit 'valky-talkies.'   But Russian soldier boys can't tell - is it boys playing? -  is it Hungarian boys give location tanks?   For rumor is, there vill be NATO bombing.  And so ze Russians shoot at pavement, to make us boys vit ze radios to dance.   Then an old dédanya came running to tank - waving her arms and in Hungarian she yells her grandson is shot, in foot - and so they kill her.   Then tank close top, and it isz rolling - all ze tanks, roll over her bones until she is no more than grease on ze pavement.  And so we boys know it is serious and throw away our bricks.  And yet ze Russians think it is only ze writers like my atya who haff made ze Magyar people to hate zhem."

"And they beat you for that?   For your father's writing?"

"They beat me for being city boy, who thinks he is a fery wonder - for that he haszt a few books seen, he thinks he is so smart, for that he has sat and with Imry Nagy he drank coffee, he thinks he is statesman!  And I wasz only a boy, only 14; and after ze vhiping I feel grateful."    

"Grateful!   For being whipped for that?"

"If you haff not had beating, you do not know houw it is."

"I did get a real beating, Professor.   Just one in my life.   I was 14, the same age you were.    From my father.   And of course I felt grateful; he was risking prison to help me.  I was a conceited little brat and I needed to have the tar beaten out of me.  But the Russians were all wrong about your father.    Weren't they, Anna?"

"Kalman Matolcsi isz hero of the Magyar people."

"Yes, he vass, Anna, my atya a trouw hero wasz.    Fery much sso he hero wasz, Anna - but this at ze time I did not know, and I vass brat and needed tar beaten out me - more tar I zink than you, friend Tim, for more conceited I vass, certainly.    And I vass very grateful, and I believe what the Russians say of my atya, my father.    And so I end up vit more tar than vhen I started.    And to my atya vhen I see him I say this, that I haff been stupid.  I say I haff learned I am boy and not yet man, and I vish him to be atya to me and not friend and fellow-journalist as he hass called me to that time.    He says if I have need of a father, he has greater need of friend and colleague, and he vill not beat me.   But soon he says it iss not safe in Hungary for me, and I must go vit other refugees to England.   And so I neffer saw him again.   It vas not safe either for him.   His body vas never been found."

"I'm sorry you lost your father, sir.    My father could not teach me either; he was killed too, killed before we could get started on the amount of teaching I needed. That I still need.   I am glad to have met you, Professor.   I will think of my father - of both of our fathers.  This will be an honor - where would you like me to bend over?   I'd like to think an American cowboy can take what a Russian farmboy can, from his beloved father.     Beat the tar out of me, Atya.   The tar's still in there."

The two men shook hands.   Matolcsi said, "It is Magyar fashion and I to vhip you as I vant.   And vhat I vant is to vhip notting."

"Not whip me?    But I lost the game, and I can take it.   Am I not worth your time?"

"You are upset?    But I as honor meant - for fine young American."

"Then, I accept.    But is it really that you wanted to be the one whipped?"

"No I haff not liking the whipping.   It is to think about it only, that I like."

"Do you go fishing?"

Matolcsi looked blank, so Tim explained :  "Catching fish - you know?"   Tim made motions of casting with a fly rod, and reeling in a trout.

"Ahh.   Fizsh-ing    Why you ask me of ze fizshing?"

"We could go fishing.   And we could do a sweatlodge - it's like a sauna, it's what my people do.    And in the intense heat and darkness you can take a whipping with branches - anyone can, it's enjoyable.   I'd like to show you.    Those Russian soldiers weren't so tough as you think, to take a birching in the sauna.  The intense heat stops you from feeling it as pain."

"Your people?   Are you Finnish?   You a bit look Lapplander."

"My mother is one quarter Maidu Indian.    According to the U.S. government, which thinks it knows who is an Indian and who isn't, that means I'm not an Indian."

"But you think you are?"  - that was Susan, fascinated by this new revelation.

"No, I am not an Indian.   But they are my mother's people.   And I've done sweats since I was a little kid, and I go to the dances.   I never thought of the scrubbing with sage branches as whipping, but actually the 'Uncles' do it pretty hard.  It would hurt if we kids weren't so excited, and if it wasn't so hot.  It's a teaching sweat - sort of an initiation for boys."

"So I might into your tribe be taken?   Are you chief?"

"I told you.  I'm not even an Indian.   And there isn't a ceremony for making people Maidu.   It's not even really a tribe - in the old days it was just villages that spoke Maidu, there wasn't a tribe.  There wasn't a tribal council in the old days: that's just something the government set up - a lot of guys who like to be "Big Chiefs."   You don't have to be Maidu to come to a sweatlodge or a dance - not the public dances."

"And me you ask to go fizshing with you?"

"Yes."

"Then I say yes, ve vill go fizshing.   My name ..."

"Is Pelegrin.    I asked at the party."

Tim had remembered Professor Melman's first name from the party, when he hadn't even quite remembered that Susan had been there.    And as far as Susan had known up to now, Professor Melman's first name was Paul; Pelegrin must be his Hungarian name, like Matolcsi instead of Melman.  Tim must have been really interested, to ask enough to find out Melman's Hungarian names; names the professor didn't ordinarily use.    Why was Tim doing this male-bonding fishing trip with Melman of all people?   Melman had been horrible to Tim at the party, while Susan had been nice.   It wasn't fair.   But Susan had a way to put a crowbar into the gears of in this all-male fishing and sauna trip.

"If you want to take a sauna, I have one."

"What?"

"In the back yard - next to the hot tub."

"But Susan,  after a sweat, we run out and jump into a creek, that comes down from the mountain snow.   And it doesn't even seem cold, you're so hot from the sweat.   You wouldn't want to go from a sauna to a hot-tub."

"So take a cold shower or run through the lawn sprinkler.   I'm sorry I didn't have a mountain stream put in for you."

"There is a pond in the yard behind this one - I've seen it.      Of course we'd be tresspassing - and we'd be naked, coming out of the sweat-lodge."

"I vill tresspass and into ze pond, nuda jump."

"I will too, Pelegrin, if you do."

Susan's plan to stop the two men from having their bonding ritual without her, had backfired.    Because there was no way she was going to climb the fence with them into Conchita Karlsberg's yard, to jump into her frog-pond.    Not nude and not even in a swim suit.    Senora Karlsberg (and she had been Francisco Karlsberg's widow even then) had been the terror of Susan's childhood, and Susan was still afraid of her.

Once, when Susan was nine, Senora Karlsberg had come in all her black-lace glory, followed by a retinue of servants, and knocked on the Thomas's front door.   The youngest of her servants, just a boy, was carrying Susan's dog, and Senora Karlsberg demanded that Susan be whipped, because the dog had dug under the fence and pooped in a flowerbed.    And it must be with skirt lifted, the Senora insisted.   With the grand Senora bearing down on him, Dad had caved : "Yes, Senora, it will not happen again.   Susan will be punished as you say."     Susan had expected she would be whipped, "with skirt lifted," as Dad had promised.    For weeks she thought the whipping would happen soon - Dad had promised and Dad never broke a promise.  The phrase "with skirt lifted' tormented her, because she didn't know if it meant panties or bare.   But her Dad had answered "as you say" to the Senora, so Susan knew she would be whipped with her skirt lifted.  Every day of those weeks of waiting, she imagined the whipping - horrible, and yet, if it was bare, horribly wonderful.  She dreamed of having Dad see her bare bottom striped and sore and red; of hugs and kisses and cold cream on her bottom afterwards.   At last she had asked Dad to whip her and get it over with.   He told her to pull her panties up - he said he didn't remember promising the Senora to whip her.  

 But Susan was sure he did remember.   Dad had lied, and he broke his promise; for her sake.     And it was those imaginary whippings, in which Dad kept his promise by whipping her soundly, on her bare bottom, which had evolved into the fantasies she now enjoyed.   In those fantasies - but she couldn't help it - she made her Dad into a horrible monster.    The servant boy, who had grimaced with sympathetic pain when her Dad had promised to whip her, came to her rescue in her fantasies, and he fought her evil, lying father with his Super-Boy powers.  Little Susan was glad that Super-Boy got to see her striped bare bottom - he kissed it and licked it after the whipping and that made the pain go away.  Of course now she was grown up, Susan understood that her father had been tempted, when his daughter had marched into his den and lifted her skirt and pulled down her panties and demended a severe belt-whipping.   She knew now it was because of his weakness, that moment of sexual temptation, that he had never spanked her.  After that episode, he also hadn't hugged or kissed or cuddled or tussled any more.   And he didn't scold her so hard it made her cry any more either - it had seemed to Susan he didn't care any more.   All because of an attraction he had felt for her bottom but had never for an instant acted on.   Not even when she sunbathed nude, week after week.   Not even when she waggled her bottom at him, and said "if I'm being bad you should spank me five spanks," each time he asked her politely to stop sunbathing naked.  And it was this father she had made into a monster in her fantasies.    

Tim showed Pelegrin the secret Cub-Scout handshake.   Pelegrin showed Tim a game that Magyar boys played with each other's testicles.

"Tim, don't you have to get back to Mary Lou's?    You said last night you'd have to sneak back into your bed, before dawn."

"I did sneak back, Susan, while you were asleep.    Then I pretended to wake up, had some corn flakes, told Mary Lou I was going out, and left.     She scolded me and told me I was not to go without telling her where, but I went anyway.    And then I went around the block and got here by sneaking in through the back, through the yard with the pond.   It's got frogs in it."

"Well you can't use the sauna then, or the hot tub.     Mary Lou's bedroom window overlooks my hot tub - we've often joked about it.  I told her I would get all my male guests to use my hot-tub - so she would never need to buy a copy of Cosmopolitan.   And I don't mind if she does see naked men in my hot-tub, but she'll recognize you."

"Ve must do it then, iff you haff promised your ffriend Frau Marie Lou Bingams.    Ve must to give her ze nuda anderen showing, and  make ourselves of the pénisz show.    In ze masks ve vear."

"Yee-haw!"   Tim slapped his bottom as if he was slapping his horse, and his strawberry birthmark did make his haunch look like an Ol' Paint.    Then he galloped across the room to get his bandanna from his pants pocket, and tied it across his face.    The two naked boys were frolicking and doing a kind of dance; Tim pressed his side against Pelegrin, and he put his arm across his back - grabbing a cheek of his bottom.   Pelegrin leaned into Tim too.  It was affectionate, but they looked away from each other as they did it, so it wouldn't be embarrassing.   Pelegrin, who was shy and reserved in social gatherings, seemed relaxed and natural with Tim.  Hungarians are born in the saddle, and there was some hint of a rider's grace in Pelegrin's movements too - he was not at all the formal professor, standing stiff and awkward in his hand-tailored suit, now the he was wearing only his tie, wrapped twice around his face to make a mask.  In making a gesture, as if accidentally, the masked Magyar horseman struck the American cowboy's penis with the back of his hand.   Tim pretended he did not notice it, but he began to breath heavily.

"I am brave without ze mask to do it!"

"I am too!"

"We haff not any birch."

"I was going to say, we don't have any sage.   But we can cut switches from the apple."

"You about ze vhipping vit apple know?   But this is Magyar, to vhip with branch of apple.   You people vit apple, you vhip too?"

"I don't know anything about it.   I've never heard of anyone using apple switches, it's just that the only tree in Susan's back yard, not counting the redwoods, is an apple tree, and it has long shoots that will make good switches.   My people wouldn't use apple switches - we use traditional things like sage, or brooms of braided basket rushes, or bow-strings if it's for a hunting society.   That's what my 'Uncles' used for teaching sweats for boys, anyway."

"My uncle used álma - apple - for my punishments, and I had to climb álma to cut zem myself.    In ze Magyar plains where my uncle live it is most common tree, and ze master álma is Jonatán Mester - you say ze Mister Jonathan - apple.   My cousins and I wass vhipped  vith it - vith ze switches of Jonatán Mester álma. 

---

---

V.    English Strawberry.

She should have just told them not to do it.  After all, it was her sauna.

But it was the frog-pond she was most scared of.     Senora Karlsberg would call the police, for certain, if two naked men climbed over her fence.   And she would prosecute.   A court case, any court case, even if the charge was only indecent exposure, was dangerous for Susan.   In a moment of panic Susan heard the judge, the judge she carried around in her head, say :

"Felony statutory rape.    He's only sixteen so it's statutory rape.  The prisoner will stand for sentencing."

So she needed most of all to keep them out of her neighbor's yard.    If they needed to do their male bonding ritual, with switches from her apple tree, that should be safe enough, if they wore masks.  And Susan did want them to do it, today, in her yard, with her, and not to wait for the fishing trip - because Susan knew that for the fishing trip, she would not be invited.   On the fishing trip they would swim together naked, and ride naked together, and do sweats together just as hot as they could stand them, and chase each other through the woods with switches of California birch, and she knew they wouldn't want a woman there for any of that.  This would be a boy's trip.  Perhaps they would even fish if they had time.    Perhaps they would masturbate each other, side by side under the stars, while they talked about women.   Susan didn't know if men did that on fishing trips, but she thought so.   What she knew for sure was that on fishing trips, men didn't want her.   Certainly Tim and Pelegrin wouldn't want one woman, who would just come between them, and perhaps not even two.   And in any case Susan hated Anna Kulcsár and wouldn't go on a fishing trip with her.  

"Don't you have classes to go to, Miss Kulcsár?"

"I have class yes, soon.    I am wait that Mr. Russell should walk me."

Susan almost felt sympathy : Anna was being excluded by this boys' game, too.    It was so unfair, that Tim and Pelegrin, who had nothing in common, and were a generation apart, and who were even competing for the same two women, should be instant friends, while she and Anna hissed at each other like cats.    They were not even rivals, she and Anna.  There was plenty of pie for each to have a slice - Susan only wanted Tim, and Anna only wanted - well probably Anna only wanted an A in sociology.

"I think Mr. Russell may be busy for a while.   And Sonoma is very safe, or you could catch the bus, if you leave now."

"I stay."

Susan too, would be late ; late for work when she was already in trouble from yesterday - she ought to be catching that bus herself.    But there was no way she was leaving the two boys with Anna - not with those big apples of hers to eat up.    The boys were acting giddy - out of control.  Tim laughed whenever Pelegrin used a Magyar word, as if it was funny, and they were starting to dance like Sioux Indians in a movie.

"I will go cut the switches, old 'Legrin,  - you are too old to climb trees."

"It iss yes the little baby who is sent up the álma for a korbács - a korbács for his own fenék!    Yes you should go, baby Timmy!"

"Then why do you insist on going outside with me?   Just wait in here while I cut the switches.   Ze korbács - yee haw!"

"If you can to your cousin make pénisz show, I can to my neighbor do it same.   Ve both show our pénisz to Maria Louw Bingams."

"But do you dare do it with an erection?  A murv penis?"

"Vhat is this?   You mean vit merev pénisz?   You are wild Indian!"

"Too wild for you!   But do you dare, Hungkary?"

"I dare!  Injun!"

"First one hard gets whipped first!"

The younger man was the winner of the masturbation race, and as soon has he was hard, he ran naked out the back door.     Susan ran after him, with his bandana, but he was up the tree before she caught up with him.     Susan climbed after him - until her robe caught on a branch.   With a twist, she slipped free, and she tossed down the green silk, sending it fluttering down.   Anna caught it before it hit the ground.    Susan had been climbing that apple tree since she was a child, and in any case it turned out that Tim, whatever else physical he could do so well, was not much good at climbing trees.     She soon swarmed past him, and handed him the bandana.

"Susan?"

"Yes, Tim?"

"I forgot to bring a knife."

"Well I hope you don't expect me to fetch one for you."    Susan did an acrobatic move, and hung from a branch over his head, by her heels.   He was gripping the trunk in fear.

He said: "Um.    No.   Don't bother.   I'll go get it."

Tim was embarrassed to be frightened, but he was too frightened even to act brave, and so he climbed down even more slowly than he had climbed up.   He panted once he reached the firm ground; he was exhausted by being so scared.    As he slunk into the house, head and penis hanging, he passed an erect Hungarian coming out.   "I forgot my knife." he mumbled.

The night before, Tim had climbed down one tree, and up another, to reach her, in the dark; Susan felt flattered now she knew how hard it had been for him.   Tim came out of the house again with his large folding Buck knife, wearing his bandit-mask bandanna.    Pelegrin began to climb the tree.

But Susan remembered that there was something she should do, so she dropped from a branch - it was a little too high  - and she went over to preheat the sauna, and to take the lid off the hot-tub.  Then she decided to check the chlorine and pH levels.   The hot-tub chlorine was much too low and the water was greenish, so she set the temperature to maximum, and added twice the recommended chlorine, hoping to kill whatever was in the tub, and she skimmed it.   Then she had to recheck the chlorine level and correct the pH.   Just to be on the safe side if there were any germs, she set the sauna temperature to maximum too, and mopped the sauna walls with diluted bleach.  By the time she finished acting as pool-man, she looked around for the others - and could see only Anna.

.. Whack - "Nine,"    Whack - "Ten." ... the sound was coming from high in the tree: and the counting voice was Tim's. ...  Whack - "Eleven."  ... Whack - "Twelve.   OK, I'll try it.   You don't have hit me any more."    From what she could see from the ground, Tim was clinging to the truck, high in the tree, while Pelegrin had been beating his ass with a switch of apple.    Tim let go of the trunk and turned around, and tried to walk out along a branch, balancing twenty feet above the ground, on a thin branch that swayed under his weight.    But he was too frightened.  He went back to the trunk, and turned around for more beating, grabbing onto the trunk for dear life.    Pelegrin said something, but his voice did not carry.     But Tim's answer rang out - "To Run, Pelegrin.   I'm going to make you run.    I'm going to make you run through the woods like the Russians did."

The two naked men came down the tree, Tim climbed down slowly.   The Hungarian reached the ground first, and he took off at a slow jog around the redwoods.    Tim dropped some switches to the dirt, and then dropped from the same branch that Susan had dropped from.

Tim landed badly on his ankle and he was winded - he was bent over, gasping from pain.     Pelegrin completed his first circuit of the two redwoods and the apple, and came bearing down on Tim, waving his apple switch,  Tim took off at a lope, but not fast enough - Pelegrin overtook him and struck a him a ferocious blow across his bottom, and continued on his path.    Tim, who was favoring one foot as he ran, doubled back to the apple tree for a switch, and with the switch in his hand, he put on a burst of speed and quickly overtook the overweight professor, and struck him a good blow across his bottom.    That blow put a bit of extra speed into the panting professor, but it could not last - he slowed to a lumbering walk again, panting and exhausted.     Then it was just a matter of Tim making circuit after circuit of the trees, and each time he overtook the slow-moving professor, he thrashed him one blow.      But it was clear the blows that Tim was giving were nowhere near as hard as the ones his own ass had gotten high in the tree - Tim's ass was a mess.

It was too cold to be naked outdoors, and Susan was chilly, as this slow beating went on.   Pelegrin was just too fat now to be chased through trees with a whip.  Susan spoke to Anna.

"Do you want to play these flogging games, Anna?"

"Excuse me, I am not your name knowing? Missus?"

"Sorry, I should have introduced myself - I'm not at my best in the mornings.    I am Ms. Susan Thomas - this is my house."

"Vhy you ask if I a vhipping vant, Miss Thomas?"

"I will be getting one.    I don't want the men to say that men are tougher than women."

"You vant to prove that voman can be vhipped - Ha!    Who is vhipped more than voman?   You want to prove voman are strong, then vhip, Sussan Thomass - Vhip men, and do not to be vhipped!"

"I'm sure the men will be glad to let you whip them, Anna.   And of course they will not whip you without asking."

"Matolcsi is strong Magyar.   He will not assk!"

But Susan was spared trying to make sense of what it was exactly that Anna did want, because Pelegrin's thrashing was finished.     He was blue in the face and panting from his slow run.   Tim, who had run the course twelve times more than Pelegrin had, was not visibly sweating.     But when they came over to the women, they both stank.   Their cocks were flaccid, and their balls were hanging low; because the exercise had warmed them up.   They both looked much happier than the freezing women.

"Do you ladies want a thrashing before we go into the sauna?"

Anna said: "I do not vant a vhipping!"

"I do, Tim, but let's just go into the sauna first.   I'm cold."

"Susan!   I'm surprised - I was sure you would want one."

"Well, I don't right now."

"Well, OK then!  Suit yourself!"

Susan opened the sauna door - it was like an oven.   The sauna rocks were red hot; Susan had paid extra for the luxury model, and the hot rocks were hollow tubes of Utah pipestone, heated from within by gas burners.

"Oh, it iss hot."

"The sauna, much more hot than this, will get, Anna.   I have not sauna in England or America have, but in Hungary I remember - it is when ze water on stove to make steam iss, that the trouw very hot comes.   In ze camp, I am made this position to take."      Pelegrin crouched behind the hot stones with his back to them - with his butt sticking out over them.    If a cup of water were dashed over them now, the explosion of steam that would shoot up would burn his bottom - burn it bad enough to send him to the hospital.     But Pelegrin kept his position - and he said "I am ready."

Tim took his apple branch, and dipped it in the container of water he had brought into the sauna - not the sauna's jar of drinking water, which Susan hadn't remembered to fill, but the hot-tub bailer, filled with bleachy hot-tub water.   Tim struck the wet branch across the stones; from the few drops that flicked off, a cloud of steam shot up to bathe Pelegrin's protruding butt.   Then Tim struck that butt with the smoking branch.     Pelegrin said "Ahh..."

It had been as hard a blow as those Tim had taken high in the tree - hard enough to make a bruise.  And the steam must have burned, too.  Susan asked him how he could endure the pain.

"Ze sauna in camp, Russian soldiers made, it was better, it had .... ropes ..."  Pelegrin was groping for the English word, and he described it in the air with his hands - a sling.      So Susan figured out that the Russian soldiers had equiped their make-shift camp sauna with a sling for hanging Hungarian boys for torturing, so the boy's bottom was over the red-hot stones - heat that would cook meat.  And Professor Melman, torture victim, called a sauna with such a sling "better."

Now Tim took his turn to steam-cook his bottom.    Tim stuck his butt out, and when Pelegrin flogged the stones, there was more water and the cloud of steam was larger, and Tim screamed.

"Tim - you're hurt."

"I'm OK.   It's good."

Pelegrin was already moving into place to take another turn - and because he was fatter than Tim, when he squeezed into the cramped space behind the hot stones, his bottom was several inches closer to them than Tim's had been, and the force of the steam-cloud was directly against his bottom.   But still he was able to bear it.   Then when Tim whipped him hard he hardly flinched from the blow of the switch.    "Ahh, that iss gut...."

Then Tim took another turn.

The steam was heating the sauna so hot that Susan found it hard to bear, but she could hardly complain that the steam was too hot for her, sitting on the other side of the room, when the men were taking it directly on their bottoms.    She dipped her hand into the water container, and tried to cool herself with handfulls of the hot, chloriney water.    She couldn't understand how Tim could be enduring this, voluntarily - it was obviously far more pain than the riding-crop smackings he had exchanged with her.    Those beatings had not been easy to take, but Susan had enjoyed them, because she had been in a intense state of sexual arousal.     But Tim did not even have an erection for this game with Pelegrin; it was a male-male competition--they were so intoxicated with their game that they seemed to feel no pain, as well as not having any brains.

The heat was horrible, and the smell of chlorine was making her feel sick, and sleepy.    It seemed like they had been in the sauna for hours; at least it was warm in here.   Susan had gotten deeply chilled, standing around naked outdoors at dawn, watching the boys whip each other, and now she was warm - warm clear through; deep down warm.    If only she wasn't so thirsty.    She couldn't remember how many turns the boys had taken at roasting their bottoms.    She was so thirsty.  But it was pleasant, sitting on this bench, leaning back against the slanted wood, listening to the boys.   It was so warm.  But that water - Tim had  scooped it from the hot tub; you wouldn't want to drink it.    And the chlorine ...  Tim was so sexy,  She ...

"SUSAN!    WAKE UP!    SUSAN!"

"What?  What? Where am I?   What ..."

"Nothing.   You fell asleep is all.   Do you want a stroke with the switch?"

There was only Tim's voice.   That was really important.   She hadn't understood it before, but now it was so clear.   She had discovered something really important.   She'd have to remember it.   Her discovery was that there was only Tim's voice.   She had to remember that.   Remember that.    Remember ....  Everything was so clear.    So clear.   So clear.

"Susan?  Do you Susan?   Susan?   Do you want a stroke with the switch?   It will feel good."

"It will feel good.    It will feel good."

"Well, come on then."

Susan allowed herself to be led by the hand into the space behind the stones, where she wedged in with her butt sticking out over them.   She felt no alarm as Tim dipped the charred branch into the bailer.   The sweat was running down her back.   It was so warm ... so warm ....

"WOW!    That was really something.   Fire on her bottom!    It felt .... it felt ... well she didn't know how it felt.   It was ... it was pain.   That's what it was.   Pain.   That's what it was called ...  Pain ...

"What's happening?   What?  ..."

"It's OK Susan, you fainted.    I had to grab you, I was afraid you would fall on the stones - I'm sorry about slapping you - I didn't know what else to do.     Did it hurt so much you fainted?"

"No, I liked it."

"It does feel pretty good, doesn't it.    But you are very hot.   Drink some water."

"But it has chlorine in it."

"The water at the ranch sometimes tastes as bad as this.   It won't hurt you."

It was utterly foul, and hot enough to scald her throat.   The horrid taste made her feel a bit more clear-headed, though.

"There you go - you just needed some water."

"She iss tough - like you, Indian."

"I'm not an Indian.   But I am used to hot sweats.   I think it's time we took Susan outside.   She has heat-stroke."

"Is this Indianish sveatlodge like?"

"Not at all.     A sweatlodge is very dark, and the smell is very different, the smell of dirt, not bleach, and we sing - or at least, someone is usually singing and drumming outside while it's going on, because a lot of sweats happen at powows; that's when everybody can get together - the Maidu kind of like live all over California now.   And it's not like this, because it is sacred ; any sweat is sacred, my 'Uncle' says, not just the ... um, uh, sacred ones.

"Is sacred to your religion?"

"Not mine.   I'm a Methodist."

"Sacred to gods of Indianish Maidu people?"

"Actually my Uncle is a Methodist too - he says it's all heathen superstition.   So he's never told me who it's sacred to, exactly, just that it's sacred.   He likes me to wear a sash with a crucifix on it, when I do a dance, as a sort of protection against the heathen gods."

"Are you done or do you want more to do?"

"Yeah - I'll have some more.   But you go first."

Pelegrin wedged his fat body into the space behind the stones.  "It is Indianish initiation, to endure the pain."

"Actually, in the sweats I did when we were lashed, it wasn't like this.   First of all, we were kids.    And our Uncles were wearing masks - I mean, we knew it was our uncles behind the masks, but we didn't really know.    Our kindly uncles - everyone was being so mean to us, all of a sudden, and they were in the masks, so we thought it was really somebody else - that it was bad spirits.  Even if we thought it was Uncle, we thought the spirits had taken him over.   And when they took us underground - deep in the earth, and we lay naked on the dirt floor in the dark and were lashed - we held each others hands and whispered to each other that we were frightened - that we'd never see our familiies again."

Tim whipped the red stones with the wet branch, which sent up a big cloud of steam to Pelegrin's bottom.   The switch caught on fire.    As Tim swished it through the air to whip Pelegrin's bottom, the flames blew out, but the leading edge of the switch was glowing red charcoal when it hit the  flabby bottom - the charcoal shattered in a shower of sparks.   Pelegrin didn't even groan.

"So what happened then?" - that was Susan.

"Oh, my Uncle made this long boring speech about being a good Indian and staying away from drugs and alchohol and learning Maidu - not that he gave the speech in Maidu - and so we knew it was him.    I was really suffering because my cousin did my body paint and  it ran down my face from the sweat and got into my eye.   And I had to pee really bad.  It wasn't hot enough to take the pain away for us kids, because we had to lie on the dirt and that was cooler.   So the lashing hurt; and they lashed us for a long time with bow-strings and braided sage whips which are sharp as knives, and it was - well it was boring.   That's what pain is, when it just goes on and on like that - really annoying.   The pain from needing to pee and my eye hurting was worse than the lashing - while I was being lashed my eye didn't bother me so much, so I kind of looked forward to my uncle coming around to me each time he made the circle.   I'm not kidding about my eye really hurting, I had a scratched cornea, and I had to go to the eye-doctor at Chico University hospital and wear an eye-patch for two weeks.   And when the sweat was over and I could run to wash my eye in the creek, and I let go and peed and my cousins are still laughing at me for that, climbing the ladder with a stream of pee coming out of my little white dick. It's really horrible to do that, to pee in a sweat lodge, but I had to pee so bad."

Pelegrin had come out from behind the stones, and Tim went in, saying : "Pelegrin, give me an extra stroke for peeing in the sweat-lodge when I was a boy."    Pelegrin picked up the smoking apple switch.

Susan asked : "And I suppose you weren't really underground - you just imagined that?"

"A sweat lodge is just a small lodge, Susan - a dugout.   It has grass on it.   White people who walk by, white backpackers, usually think it's a hill.   If you don't leave the ladder sticking up, it's pretty easy to hide the smoke hole.   White people don't look for the door to a house on the top of the roof."

"That sounds so cool."

"My uncle's dugout wasn't.  Well actually it was cool - it was cold.   It was horrid ; I lived with him for a while.  My Uncle said it was the happiest day of his life when he moved into a goverment double-wide trailer; he had heat and running water and a flush toilet, and lights and a phone and an electr... - YEE-OW!"

Tim had taken the steam on his bottom, and it hadn't make him stop talking, but the switch of glowing coals made him howl.   More and more of the apple switch was turning to charcoal, and the swishing of the wood through the air heated the glowing charcoal to incandescence - to white heat.  Susan figured there would be a stripe of second-degree burns - blisters - across Tim's bottom, from this one blow.    The two men didn't seem to have any sense - they were injuring themselves for pleasure.

"You are good spirit to me, Indian brave.   I wish initiation with braided sage whips and speech of being good Maidu. You are my Uncle, teaching me the Indianish lore."

"I don't know any Indian lore.  I'm not a brave and I'm not an Indian."

Pelegrin was about to go in again, for another stripe of burn across his bottom from an apple switch that was on fire.   So he would get a stripe of blisters too.   They were utterly mad.   And they were more in love with each other than Tim ever would be with her.

Susan said: "It's my turn.   I'll take the steam, but Tim, I want you to use the other end of the switch - I don't want to be hit with something that's burning."

"OK."

Susan got into position, and tried to remember what her first ass-steaming had felt like.    She knew she'd had one, just a few minutes ago, but she couldn't remember it clearly, it was all so hazy.   But the heat of the room was so very pleasant and luxurious that even more heat could only feel even better.    She stuck her bottom way out, getting it really close to the rocks.

... YAOW that hurt!     And it did hurt - it hurt so much she wanted another one!    She said : "Aww that's good..."  

"ssshshsshsh ...."

That was the sound of something hot being dropped into water.   What was going on?   Susan slid out of the space behind the stones so she could turn around to see what was happening.     The sshissh sound was Tim was pouring water from the bailer onto the burning apple switch, to quench the burning coals before hitting her.   Susan looked over at Anna -

"YOU IDIOTS!   LOOK AT ANNA!"

---

Anna had fainted.    Tim rushed over, and felt her forehead

"She burning up!"

Tim ran for the bailer of water, and poured most of it onto the slumped girl, mostly on her head.    The he slapped her, but there was no response.    Tim took some water into his mouth, and spat about a teaspoonful into the girl's mouth.   He put his fingers in her cunt, and poured some water so it went in.   Then he picked her up, and smashed through the door of the sauna.    When Susan and Pelegrin ran out after them, they found Tim trying to break through Susan's back fence, by hurling his body against the boards.

But the stout redwood fence defeated him.    Instead, he picked up Anna and flung her up so she landed draped over the fence, half on one side and half on the other, folded over the sharp redwood points that ran along the top.    Then Tim scaled the fence with a jump, and balancing on top he picked her up and dropped her over the other side, and then jumped down himself.   Almost at once they heard a big splash, and then another.

Susan didn't think she could jump the fence, so she ran to her shed for a ladder.    Pelegrin followed her.

"No Professor - call an ambulance."

"Where?"

"In the kitchen - you can't miss the phone, it's pink.   On the wall in the kitchen."

When Susan climbed the ladder, she was stunned - Conchita Karlsberg's yard was so beautiful.   So beautiful.  She just looked, and looked ...

"Susan - help me."

Susan stopped looking at roses and azaleas, and looked at Tim and Anna in the frog pond.   They looked peaceful, but Anna's eyes were still closed - and Susan began to realize that things were very serious.   She let herself hang down the other side of the fence and dropped, getting redwood splinters in her tits and skinning her knees.    She walked over to the pond with a heavy weight of fear in her stomach.

"Susan ... I don't know what to do."

"You know more than me.   I told Pelegrin to call an ambulance."

"Good.    She's still alive, I think, but I don't know why she's not waking up."

"Did you take her pulse?"

"How?"

Susan waded in, but then she switched to floating instead because the bottom was mud.   "'Her pulse is strong.   And she feels normal - not hot. And her color's normal too. You know, since she's cooled down, I'm not sure we should leave her in cold water.     If she's in shock, maybe we should keep her warm."

"But what if we take her out of the water, and that turns out to be the wrong thing to do."

"Then we're wrong.   Tim, you decide what to do - I don't know anything, and you did pretty good getting her over here."

"OK.   I think ..."

"TIMOTHY RUSSEL, what are you doing!   Get your hands off that girl!  Is this an orgy?"

"Mary Lou.   What are you doing here?"

"You've been doing an initiation, haven't you. Tim?   I can see the welts on Susan's bottom."

"Mary Lou, this girl is very sick.   We can't wake her up - I think she's in a coma."

"She'll be fine, she just fainted.   We used to do sweatlodge whippings as initiations for The Togetherness.   Plus anytime the Good Leader thought you needed more self-dicipline, he punished you with a sweatlodge whipping until you fainted.    But, Tim,  I'm really steamed that you did an Indian initiation for Susan and your girlfriend without me."

Tim pulled Anna out of the water, and lay on top of her.   It looked like sex to Susan, even if it was really just keeping a shock victim warm.   And it must look like sex to Mary Lou, as well.

Susan asked: "How did know it was Tim, Mary Lou?   He was in a mask."

Tim said : "Oh, Mary Lou has seen me bare lots of times - she knows my birthmark.  She changed my diapers."

"Tim, I'm not that old.   You were long out of diapers before I started baby-sitting you.   But I did make you take your bath, remember.   And I spanked you, too--so I had lots of chances to see your birthmark."

"Yeah, you were the world's worst baby-sitter.   None of my Maidu baby-sitters ever came into the bathroom to make sure I washed my dick - and they didn't spank me either."

"Too bad for them; you were the world's worst brat."

"Well, maybe I did sass back my beautiful cousin - I had such a crush on you.   I used to put sticky jelly on my dick on purpose, that's how much I wanted you to soap it and wash it for me.    It was worth it, but then you would spank me!"

"If you didn't like the spankings why did you keep doing stuff to get spanked?    Why would you come bug me when I was watching TV, and tell me you took a cookie from the cookie jar, when I hadn't even asked you?'"

"I didn't!   It wasn't like that at all.  I got lonely 'cause you wouldn't play with me.   Then you tricked me.  I hadn't taken the cookie."

"But, Tim, there were crumbs.   Besides, when you were pyjamas down and over my lap, I gave you one last chance.   But when I asked: 'do you want to say sorry or do you want a spanking?' you said 'spanking'."

"You praised me for being brave if I took a spanking, and if I didn't, you made me feel like a worm.  So of course I said 'spanking.' I was just a kid and you could make me do anything you wanted.   It wasn't that I liked the spankings.    Did you think I wanted to be spanked?   You should go to jail for what you did to an innocent little boy."

"You?  Innocent!"

Susan was racked with jealousy and fear.   Tim hadn't played the brat with her.    But he had done it with Mary Lou when he was a kid, and he was still doing it with her now.   He had "spank me, I've been naughty" written all over his face.  He hadn't teased Susan, but he was teasing Mary Lou now, and it was making Mary Lou mad enough to spank him.   Susan loved to be teased too; this wasn't fair.   This teasing could only end with Tim saying he was sorry or Tim getting a spanking, and it would be the spanking, just like when he was a kid.  Tim knew it, and Mary Lou knew it, and they both knew that Tim wasn't a little boy any more, and the spanking would lead to something more.  Susan thought: Mary Lou's marriage is toast, and cousin marriage isn't incest in California.  Oh no!   Tim is more intimate with her than with me.   And, Susan thought, if he tells her we had sex, I'm screwed.    Statutory rapist.

Mary Lou said : "And you're still a brat, and you are still legally a child, Tim, and I'm still responsible for you to your mother--I can still spank you.  And you better believe we'll have a session, with a paddle, just as soon as we get home.  I have a cheeseboard I bought when I knew you were coming.   Susan, did he tell you any Indian legends?   About living in harmony with nature?    We used to talk about that stuff in The Togetherness, and here my uncle goes and knocks up a real live Indian squaw, so I'm the girl with a real live Indian cousin, and won't tell me anything.  When Tim was a boy he just wanted to talk about baseball all the time, or TV.   He only saw TV at our house so you couldn't pull him away. If he was watching Huckleberry Hound on our old black and white, Saturday mornings, he would pull down his jammies and hand me the paddle, so he could be spanked without taking his eyes off the screen, but he wouldn't talk about his Indian ledgends."

"I don't know any Indian legends, cousin."

"He's lying, and I'd give him a spanking right now if his butt wasn't so decorated already.    Did these two spend the night in your spare room, Susan?    I'm responsible for him to his mother, but what can I do if he climbs out his window?    I can only hope they used a rubber.   I mean rubbers.  But he's only sixteen, Susan.   Shouldn't you have stopped them?"

Tim said : "Mary Lou, you are jumping to conclusions.   I have not had sex with this woman, Anna Kulcsár."   Tim was lying on top of Anna, and was very erect, and was rubbing his dick in the hollow of her thigh, so this assertion didn't carry much conviction.

"Then just where did you spend the night, Tim?   The last two nights?"

Tim squared his shoulders to confess to his baby-sitter: "Well, I ...

"YOU ARE TRESPASSING ON MY PROPERTY AND I HAVE CALLED THE POLICE.   Senorita Thomas, Senora Bingams, I am shocked.   This is not what I expected from my neighbors."

---

Conchita Karlsberg still had a servant standing a pace behind her - and it was, Susan realized, the same one.    The boy, just her age, who had  handed back her cocker spaniel with a sweet smile, and had winced in sympathy when her father had promised to whip her, had been working all this time in the house behind her own, and Susan had never seen him.     She caught his eye - he had not lost his smile, nor his sympathy.    He was certainly aware she was naked, and his eyes ran her up and down; a lot of men had done that over the years, but almost always just before having sex with her, or more often, deciding not to have it.   But this man was ashamed of the quick glance he had stolen.

Susan said: "Senora Karlsberg, my friend is very ill - she fainted in my sauna from the heat, and we felt it was imperative to put her in cold water as quickly as possible.   She has still not recovered."

"She looks healthy enough to me - just because she is pretending to be asleep, do you expect me to allow this behavior on my property..."  The grand Senora was advancing on Anna with her cane raised - but the servant ran and got in front of her, and raised his arms.

"José, stand aside!"

"Mais Senora, it is not proper for you to see - there is a senor who is ... uggh ..."  words failed him, so he pointed to Tim's rigid cock.    Conchita reeled in horror as if she was having a fit of the vapors; although the object that brought them on had in fact been in front of her eyes the whole time.

José kept his body between Anna and his mistress's cane.      He felt Anna's neck, and slapped her face - not very hard.   He said :  "She cannot be pretending, Senora.   She is unconscious."

Personally, Susan would rather have seen Senora Karlsberg use her cane - it would take more than a slap to convince her that Anna wasn't faking it.    Anna had a naked and very erect young man lying on top of her and massaging her skin--surely if she was really unconsious she wouldn't look like she was enjoying it so much.

"SHIT!"

That came from over by the fence, and there was also a loud clang.   Mary Lou had been unwilling to try the drop from the top of the fence, so instead she had tried to pull the ladder up after her, and swing it around to the other side.    But it was an aluminum extension ladder, in two pieces, and the upper one had come loose from the lower one.   When the ladder had come apart suddenly, Mary Lou, who was balanced on the redwood points that ran along the top of the fence, had fallen off, into the Karslberg garden, and the upper half of the ladder had fallen on top of her.    When she tried to stand up, she cursed again; Susan ran over.     Mary Lou was sure she had broken her leg - she claimed a jagged bone was sticking out of her shin.

Susan investigated - "I don't think it is a break, Mary Lou, I think ... look, this sharp corner of the ladder has got driven into your shin and across your ankle when it fell on you.    They shouldn't make ladders with sharp corners like this.    You've lost some blood and it might be very serious - if you've cut a tendon that might be even worse than a break.   But the bone itself is not broken."

"I can tell when I've broken my leg, thank you - what are you, a doctor?"

"We've already sent for an ambulance for Anna, Mary Lou.    You can ride to the hospital with her and get an X-ray.    The ambulance should be here already - I can't think why it's taking so long."

"What do you mean you sent for it?    I saw Tim fling the girl over the fence, and you ran for the ladder.   Who called for the ambulance?"

"Professor Melman."

"Professor ...  Melman?"     Mary Lou, who was looking very pale from loss of blood and the pain, began to laugh.    "Professor Melman?    That tub of lard I saw was Professor Melman?     He doesn't have a tailor, he has a magician.    He looks good in a suit.   Melman?   That was Melman?   Oh, goodness, Melman?   Oh no, Melman?   What a tub of lard - what a lard-butt - what a white whale!"     Mary Lou was hysterical.

Susan didn't think it was funny.   She was a bit sensitive on the subject of lard-butts.    She thought perhaps Mary Lou should be slapped, but she didn't dare.     José, who had slapped one woman already, removed himself from screening his mistress from the sight of Timmy's boner, and came over to look at Mary Lou's ankle.   It was starting to swell, and when he felt it to test for a break, she screamed like a banshee - no slap would be needed.

"It is not broken."

"Thank you, José."

"You two know each other?"

"I see Senora Bingams at the neighborhood  association meetings.   I am sorry I have missed you, Senorita Thomas.   I have attended in hopes of seeing you, but you do not come."

So the boy of her girlhood dreams, Super-boy with magic powers and an angel's smile, had not only been living next door to her all her life, he had been looking for her.

"And Senorita Thomas, I have an idea why the ambulance is late.    Professor Melman thinks he lives on Napa Street."

"But we do live on Napa."

"You will excuse me, Senorita - but you and the professor and Senora Bingams live on the Napa Road.    But as it happens there is a Napa Street in Sonoma as well, a fact which is not well known.   It is is a small street of laboradores.     At every meeting of the association, Professor Melman speaks of Napa Street - and it is true that it is a street and not a road.    I have corrected him on this but it only makes him cross with me.     So I think perhaps the ambulance has been sent to the other side of town."

"They couldn't make such a mistake."

"Professor Melman has a thick accent, but he is impatient when he hears the accents of Mexico - he thinks Mexicans are stupid.    But many of the hospital workers are Californios - or of Mexico.     But if I am not mistaken, the professor has something to tell us.  .   I think I hear something - but he is having trouble scaling the fence."

The fence between the two yards was high, but not so high it couldn't be scaled using only the lower half of the extension ladder, which had fallen into Susan's yard.    It could be scaled by anyone that is, except Pelegrin Matolcsi - the fat professor was finding it very difficult.    But at last the pudgy white naked form appeared, and he sat on the top of the fence.   The sharp wooden points along the top sank deep into his soft flesh.   Then he turned around and hung down over Susan's side of the fence, to reach for the ladder he had just climbed up - which he did by folding himself over the pointy fence.    But he grabbed the ladder and pulled it up, and swung it over to the other side - at which point, he dropped it.

Susan ran to put it up again, but before she reached the fence, Pelegrin had dropped to the ground - sliding down the fence on his backside rather than his front, so it was his bottom that filled with redwood splinters, rather than his dick.  But he landed on a rose bush, so his attempt to protect his dick was not entirely a success.

Senora Karlsburg was examining the intruders into her yard, through her quizzing glass.   Now that José had removed his body from between her and the object of scrutiny, she was finding it quite entertaining.   She said to Susan - "I was not aware that you had built a temescal, Miss Thomas.   I wonder if I might trouble you on behalf of my majordomo Senor Rodríguez.    He suffers from an, um, male complaint, and I believe a hot steam bath would be most helpful, and alas I have no such facility ..."

But before Susan could try to discover what on earth her elderly neighbor thought that a sauna could do for "male complaint," they were interrupted.    Pelegrin had untangled himself from Senora Karlsberg's Peace rose, and came limping over to talk with Susan.

"There iss vit the ambulance problem, for idiot at hospital hass sent to wrong place.   It vill now come soon."

"But Pelegrin, will it come to Napa Road, or to this house on Calistoga Street?"

"To your house in Napa Street I send it."
    
"But then you'll have to go back, to be there when it comes."

Pelegrin looked at the high fence, and the two sections of ladder - and for the first time he noticed Mary Lou, looking pale and in great pain.  José was cradling her in his arms, and wiping her brow.   She was biting on a stick.    Anna was cradled in Tim's arms, still unconsious; but she wasn't pale, she was glowing - and so was Tim.    And Senora Karlsberg looked steamier than any of them - she was examining the welts and burns on Tim's bottom with her peering glass.    Then she hobbled on her cane to stand behind Pelegrin's, to look at his.

Susan said: "Don't worry, Pelegrin.   I won't make you climb the fence.    Senora Karlsberg, may I go into your house to use your phone? - I should send the ambulance to this house - they will need to carry out the patients on stretchers, so they must come in from Calistoga Street in any case."

Senora Karlsberg volunteered: "I will make the call, Senorita."

But José, although he was some distance away by the fence with Mary Lou, must have heard or guessed what was being said, because he shouted out : "Of what are you speaking, Miss Thomas?    The telephone?     I should make the call, the Senora is not accustomed - Susan, can you come and hold Senora Bingams?"

As she hurried over to him, he allowed himself the pleasure of another shy glance up and down her naked body.  And at her face, to see if she had noticed that he used her first name.  Then he looked away, blushing--but smiling to himself.    But then they had the complicated business of Susan sliding in, to take Mary Lou from his arms to hers, as gently as possible.   There was a great deal of touching between José and Susan's naked body, including her naked bottom on his lap.    By the time he slid out from under her, he was redder than Tim or Anna.   He tried to make his good-by to Susan, but all that would come out was "S ... " and then he choked.   "S ...", he tried again.  Then he ran into the house.

Susan said "How are you feeling, Mary Lou?"

"All right, I guess.    Pain is boring when it just goes on and on like this.   I have some cocaine in my house - could someone get it for me?"

"The ambulance will be here soom.   I think it would be smarter to wait for the pain-killers they will give you - you don't want to mix drugs."

"I suppose you think I'm dreadfull, snorting cocaine.    I started in The Togetherness.   Not that Togetherness was about drugs.  Not at all--the Good Leader was against drugs.  He always said so.  But it was a real hard time for me, when the group started to go bad, and we started selling to make money.  There was some bad stuff going on and I  had--it was really bad--I just had to get out in '73.    The Good Leader said I would die like a dog for leaving.   That I didn't have what it takes. I left the drugs but they didn't leave me."

"I don't judge you at all, Mary Lou." - this felt to Susan like a dreadful thing to say, but she coun't think of anything else.

Mary Lou continued to talk about the Good Leader and his appetites, but Susan did not listen.   She was watching Tim and Anna.   He was hugging her tight, and cradling her head, and he had a very hard erection which was pushing into the groove between her belly and her leg - and they'd been like that for a quarter of an hour.   And he was moving just enough so his erection was sliding up and down, just a bit, in that groove.   He was gently rubbing her skin with his hands; which was proper first aid for shock.    He brushed the hair from her eyes.    José had dropped his short Mexican jacket, a black bolero, over her torso, so when Tim ran his hands over her, under the jacket, Susan could not see exactly what he was doing, but it wasn't hard to figure out;  he was lightly pinching and fondling her tits.   And then his right hand went lower.

And if she's unconscious, Susan thought, then I am the Queen of Hungaria!

The signs of Anna's orgasms were pretty obvious, Susan thought.    And then she thought that maybe they weren't.   Maybe I'm imagining the whole thing - maybe Tim is just doing what you are supposed to do, for a shock victim.    Maybe Anna's panting is normal too.   Certainly Tim's was.

And then Anna turned bright red.      An orgasmic flush - rare and very special, and Anna must have one of the finest in the world.   Susan knew about them because an ex-boyfriend had told her; they were something else that men liked, besides big tits and a cunt that got wet, that Susan didn't have.   Tim pulled his hand out from under the bolero, and looked at it in horror - he must think he's just orgasmed her to death, Susan thought.   He must be worried that masturbating a shock victim is fatal.   But Anna continued to breathe, and it was hard to believe there was anything wrong with her, to look at her.   And then, out of relief, Tim kissed her, very tenderly, on her nose.

And Susan was over him.    Just like that.   Half-fucking Anna's thigh, and giving Anna pleasure with his fingers on her huge lovely tits, and then her clit, Susan could bear - it only made her jealous; it just made Susan pity her own ugly body, and feel envious of Anna's.   She didn't blame Tim for normal male appetites.  She liked that about him, in fact, that he was so very sexual.  But a kiss of affection was too much.   She felt nothing any more for Tim.    Perhaps José could use some help with his male complaint.

But Senora Karlsberg seemed to know altogether too much about her servant's problems in the male department.    The Senora was inspecting the flogged buttocks of Tim and Pelegrin very closely, as well as Susan's buttocks.   So if Susan managed to get José into the sauna with an apple switch, to do something about his male complaint, perhaps they might not be alone.    But in any case she was over Tim.   She had known all along he couldn't possibly desire her.   He had made a much better choice in Anna, obviously.    And of course he could get Anna if he wanted her.   Susan might be over Tim, but that didn't change the simple objective fact that he had the hottest male body in Sonoma County.   Besides, she'd taught him not to wear underpants.   Susan always thought that even ugly men would get all the women they wanted if they would just let their erections show.    She herself liked giving men erections.

"He hasn't fucked her!    He hasn't fucked her!" - that was Mary Lou - in pain, but very excited about something.  

"Mary Lou, what are you talking about?"

"Don't you see? he was shocked when she turned red, so he can't have fucked her before.   So I wonder where he's been these past two nights.   What could make a sixteen-year-old boy sneak out of bed and climb down a tree, and lie to his old baby-sitter about it, besides sex?   And who could he be having it with?   When I saw he was gone last night, I checked - and both pairs of pants he brought with him were in the washing machine - so he slipped out of my house naked.   Where could he have been going, that he would go naked?    What do you know you aren't telling me, Susan?   If Tim wasn't in your spare room fucking Anna the last two nights, then where was he and who was he fucking?"   

Pelegrin answered: "He with me wass.   He to teach me secret Indian rites agreed, and we have two nights passed.    Iss secret only, and so I may not the details say."

Tim shouted : "What did he say, Susan?"    From over near the pond, where Tim was holding Anna, it was a good fifteen feet to the spot where Susan was holding Mary Lou.    Tim had heard Mary Lou's shrill voice, and Susan's, but Pelegrin's voice did not carry.    Susan shouted: "He says you spent the last two nights in his house - teaching him Indian lore."

"I don't know any ..."

"I THINK YOU MUST HAVE BEEN AT THE PROFESSOR'S, TIM," she shouted   "Where else could you have been?    Mary Lou says you sneaked out of your bedroom window, naked.    Did you sneak into my yard to use the sauna?    WHERE ELSE COULD YOU HAVE BEEN the last two nights, Tim, but HOLDING A SECRET ceremony with Pelegrin?    Obviouslly not at my house - since YOU ARE UNDER AGE."     Susan realized she was sounding quite hysterical herself.

Mary Lou scolded Tim: "How could you have a ritual with him and not your own cousin?    Do you think I'm so stuck up I wouldn't do a naked ritual?    After all I've told you!"   Mary Lou sounded so much like a scary baby-sitter that Tim rubbed his bottom with a rueful look.

Senora Karlsberg was fascinated.   "A secret Indian temescal ritual in the middle of the night?   Next door to my yard?   How exciting.     I don't object to Indian braves in my garden in the early hours of the morning, if it's for religion.    But you must admit it was quite a surprise to see you come out of the water when I was out walking my dog - a pleasant surprise though it may have been."

Tim said: "I dont know any secret Indian .... Oh, forget it."

Mary Lou said: "This is very interesting.   Professor Melman, I am envious.   My cousin has always claimed he could tell me nothing of Indian rituals.   But now he holds one for you.   So interesting."

Mary Lou seemed determined to find out what Tim had really been doing those two nights - and without an alibi, without a story that would put Tim somewhere else for those nights, it wouldn't be hard to prove he'd spent them with Susan.   There were plenty of witnesses to their conversation in the Plaza.

Mary Lou said : "So, Tim, you spent the two nights holding a ritual with Melman.    But I wonder where Anna was in all this?   Was she there, at your naked ritual?      But of course she couldn't be, she's a student - Professor Melman could hardly keep his job.    I can see the headlines now - Sonoma State College professor in naked ritual with under-age student.      Is that what happened, Tim?    Because if it is, I will tell the college.    And I have noticed her comings and goings from that house, so don't lie to me.   Is it true what Melman said?   Have you been showing him a ritual?"

It seemed that was it.   Mary Lou was suspicious, and she had enough to go to the college already, and when she did Melman, or Susan, or both, would be proved guilty of having an underaged lover.   In Melman's case, that lover was a minor under his care as a teacher.  He stood to loose more than Susan.   Prosecutions of men who had sex with teenagers were common, and the penalty was very severe.    But there was one more voice to be heard from:, Anna's :

"Of course it iss truow vhat Pelegrin Matolcsi he says.    My husband he is hero of the Magyar people." 

. This is a work of fiction.  In particular, the house of Yves St. Laurent, although it did do some see-through clothing in the 70s, has never (as far as I know) designed foundation garments based on Japanese breast-torture techiques.  Also I have given Sonoma a college that is actually in Rhonert Park, apple trees that are actually in Sebastopol, and a boutique I once saw in Santa Fe.

From e-mail: From name: To: David Nunes da Silva   -  @sneakemail.com Subject: Message:   Thanks for the mail.

  Mirrors:  

1. ASSTR 
2. DNDS 

A2.   Misc.

Actually, I'm not so sure that the incident as reported in the original post is necesarily an exageration. At VMI we have something called "balling up." Basically, you take someone and roll their hay (bed roll) around them and use the straps for the bed roll to tie them up. Now it's mostly done when someone turns 21, and it's very often voluntary. However... We also have a far less good-spirited variation that involves taking someone who has been balled up into the showers and beating them. This is done as a sort of disciplining among brother rats (members of the same class). Five cadets ended up being dismissed over it. I'm pretty sure there's a newspaper link to it for the Roanoke Times.

"Soldiers and Marines weren't perfect in my day either. On my ship, the abuses young leathernecks endured at the hands of senior Marines was far worse than anything seen in the images from Abu Ghraib. Hazing and other martial rites-of-passage ran the gamut from severe beatings (sometimes to temporary unconsciousness), being stripped naked and shackled to pull-up bars, backs and legs whipped with belts and the flat edges of swords, and bare heads smacked with belts and steel helmets. Blooding winging (a ritual wherein newly graduated Marine parachutists had their jump wings pinned directly into their chests). In one case a Marine private was severely burned — the result of his genitals and abdomen being painted with highly flammable boot-edge dressing and then ignited with a cigarette lighter."  W. Thomas Smith Jr.    

                           
             
              
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