"I'm too busy, now, Heidi," he told her. "Dr. Jonas will come fuck you later."
"Doktor Jonas fuck me not long ago, but only kitzeln mit his hundschwantz, not mit his leder-spieler! Please! You take minute und fuck me mit fingers, Doktor Paul!"
"No, Heidi. But I'll ask Dr. Jonas to bring his lederschwantz and fuck you with it, if you promise to stop talking that way about the schwantz God gave him. Or should I tell him what you said?"
"No! Please! You don't tell him! But you send him to me quick, no? Is so hot, my pussy, I go crazy! You sure you can't take minute to help me mit your fingers?"
"I'm sure, Heidi. Now be quiet, and I'll ask Dr. Jonas to come soon." Paul led Pal back out of the room and closed the door, but not before Pal noticed that he had not reset the switch-button in the door frame. She guessed that it wasn't necessary as long as Heidi was strapped in bed.
"What's wrong with Dr. Jonas and what is it that she wants him to use on her?" asked Pal, half afraid to learn the answers to her questions. Paul chuckled as he herded her back into her own room and made her sit on her bed. He stood facing her.
"Dr. Stillwell has a number of phallic toys – most of them made of leather – which he uses to satisfy females that require bulk in their vaginal diet. Poor Jonas was cursed with an oddly malformed penis. It's longer than average, but terribly thin, and the head is elongated and almost pointed. That's why she calls it a dog's pecker – but not in front of him! He's very sensitive about it, for which you can't blame him. But you'll find out about Dr. Stillwell firsthand, Pal baby."
"What do you mean?" Pal had a premonition of something that made icy shivers up her spine.
"We share almost everything equally – Jonas and I. Because I run the risks to get the girls here, I take first choice. That way I get a little bonus now and then. I might have kept you to myself for quite a while, because you're an exceptionally juicy little hunk of female, Pal baby. But you need to be punched for trying to get away."
"Don't you think your whip is parchment enough? Haven't I actually been more than punished in advance for doing what anyone would have done in my place?" Pal was so indignant that Paul had to laugh at her, but as he spoke, he grew quite serious.
"You'd better start learning that you're not in the world you've spent the first part of your life in. This little world here is run by Jonas and me, and we run it as we like! Now, you can go on acing as if this is just an interlude in your life which provides harsher treatment than you like, and you can go on hoping and believing that you'll return to that other world and take up where you left off. You can – but I don't recommend it!"
"Your wisest course is to accept the inevitable. Take my word for it: you'll never leave this building alive! And you'll remain alive only as long you're useful to we. What those uses may be will in part also depend upon you."
"If you're as intelligent as I think you are, you'll try to be the best little old sexpot of a playmate either Jonas or I could want. Because when your nuisance value – your upkeep and the problems you manage to create – becomes greater than your worth as a stimulating sexual partner, you will be transferred to guinea-pig status. As with Heidi, we might amuse ourselves with you sexually now and then, if it suits us, but your major value will then be as a test animal for our research."
"I… I just can't believe this is happening," Pal said, "It must be a bad dream! People just don't do things like this!"
Paul reached over and grabbed her right breast, squeezing it to make the nipple erect. When it did, he pinched the springy peak painfully, letting his thumbnail bite mercilessly into its tender flesh. Pal screamed in agony.
"Have you ever had pain like that in a dream?" Paul asked.
"No! Oh, God no!" Pal gasped. "Please don't do that again!"
"From this moment on, you'd do well to remember that you're just a slave here. The amount and degree of pain you experience will in some measure be decided by your own actions and behavior, including your attitudes. The end results are inevitable, but you can prolong your life and make it less miserable – even enjoyable at times – if you use your head. I'll leave you to think that over for a while. Jonas will be paying you a visit, soon!"
He left her, and as she peered up through the pain-induced tears, she could see that he was reaching to push the switch button of her doorframe. Quickly, she drew her bare feet up off the floor before the door latch clicked shut.
She sat there massaging the throbbing, smarting tenderness of her brutalized nipple, and sniffling to stop the wetness in her eyes and nose.
If indeed she had lost her only chance for escape, there seemed to be a very small choice of futures for her. She knew that she didn't have the kind of makeup that would permit suicide, and the guinea-pig routine horrified her especially with the recalled vision of poor Heidi's condition.
She couldn't see any alternative but total submission.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Dogpecker was indeed a graphic accuracy, Pal thought, as she got her first close look at it.
Jonas had entered her room less than an hour after Paul left. At least, without a clock, she could only guess that it had been about that long. Whatever the time lapse, it was all too soon for her.
He entered the room as naked as she was. She had to admit that he had taken good care of himself. For his age – she guessed it to be about forty-four – he was in iron condition, with only a slight indication of a paunch. But his deformity gave her the creeps. Even if it wasn't his fault that he had been born with it, she thought he should have better manners than to inflict the sight of it on others.
He moved to stand with his thighs pressed against the edge of her bed, and the long, limp, fleshy tube lay with its tip resting on her sheet. It couldn't have been more than a half-inch in diameter, but it must have been at least six inches or more in length in this flaccid state. Like Paul's, it was uncircumcised. Unlike Paul's, it gave her the weird feeling of viewing a side-show freak.
As a nurse, she had seen her share of cocks. Big and small, long and short, black ones, white ones, varying shades between, circumcised and uncircumcised, healthy ones, diseased ones, soft and limp, hard and erect – but she had been able regard them impersonally for the most part. Those few patients who considered themselves God's gift to women and expected to thrill a young nurse by grabbing her hand and placing it on their penises had been very quickly cooled down. Pretending initial cooperation, she would simply throw back the covers as if to enjoy looking at it, then use her other hand to execute a fast and deadly finger-flip that stung and hurt the glans like hell! No erection could live through it, nor could the momentary libido which had caused the erection.
But this travesty of a penis could not be ignored, and she knew that this was one she would be unwise to mistreat. In fact, she was already mentally toughening herself, trying to organize her mind in some manner which would make less sickening whatever was about to happen.
She had seen the coiled whip in his hand when he came in, and she remembered what Paul had said about Stillwell's not needing much of an excuse to get rough. While she was thinking about this, he broke the silence.
"Look what I brought you," he said.
"Yes." It was little more than a whisper, but it was all she could manage. It lay less than fifteen inches from her face, and she was half-hypnotized by the revolting appearance of the grayish fleshy worm. It was almost taupe in color. A taupeworm, she thought with a slight tickle of hysteria, then caught herself before she burst out in a wild, mad cackle. She steeled herself and waited.