Susan Hamilton bonds with Bud and starts a journey that will take her to the Pit

THE PIT, whose horrors had been destined for so bold a recusant as myself, THE PIT, typical of hell, and regarded by rumour as the Ultima Thule of all their punishments.Edgar Allen Poe

My temples throbbed from my hangover, as I entered the Tribune Building. My watch showed 9:15 am and I had a 9:00 am appointment with my editor Shelia Davis. Shelia and I had started working for the Tribune on the same day about ten years ago. Shelia functioned on a marginal competent level, but political correctness, not ability or merit, had earned her promotion to editor.

I grabbed a cup of coffee and forcing myself to casually stroll into Shelia’s office. My casual routine came to an abrupt end and I almost choked on my coffee, when I saw Susan (the Bitch) Hamilton already sitting in the office. Susan, a recent college graduate, had been working only a few months for the paper, but already her know-it-all attitude and lack of respect for us veteran reporters had earned her the nickname “the Bitch” Some referred to her as the “Iron Maiden” since she resisted all the passes that had been thrown her way.

No one would call Susan. Hamilton a beauty. Her prominent nose overlooked a slight overbite; but damn, that bitch had a magnificent body, an athletic build with long legs, a gravity defying set of knockers, and a rather large but tight ass. The Bitch moved with a slightly pigeon toed swagger that really set that ass in motion.

Although I disliked the Bitch personally, I kept finding her sneaking into my sexual fantasies Theses fantasies usually climaxed with me curing the Bitch of her frigidness with a hot over-the-knee spanking session as she squealed for mercy. Just such a vision had my loins stirring when Shelia’s voice jerked me back to the real world.

“Good morning, Mr. Grant. Nice of you to join us today. Ms. Hamilton will be working with you on your next assignment, since she speaks fluent Spanish she should be a great help.” Shelia went on to tell us, she wanted us to work on an article about undocumented aliens in the city and gave us contacts to interview. The contacts had been obtained from a Catholic priest who worked with the street people in the city.

As Shelia continued to explain what she wanted, Susan buts in with, “I understand the criminal element targets these people for crime, because they are reluctant to report the crimes to the authorities due to their own illegal status.”

I shrugged my shoulders and said, “Say fromage.”

“Say what?” Susan responded.

I patiently explained that say fromage meant it’s a pity in French.

Shelia couldn’t contain her giggles as Susan responded. “First of all it’s C’est not say. Second of all, fromage means cheese. The word you were looking for is dommage.”

Still fuming, a half hour later when we arrived at my car, I opened the passenger door. But the bitch refused to get into my car until we cleaned out the all trash. Just clearing a spot for her to sit down didn’t satisfy her royal highness.

Things went from bad to worse from there. Many of our interviewees had trouble speaking English... At first she just translated for me, but as the day wore on she became impatient and started taking over the interviews. I controlled my building anger and tactfully told her to leave the interviewing to me.

Our last interview of the day, found us in an apartment complex located off the interstate. Originally a motel, the complex consisted of one room apartments. The father of a family of four greeted us, when we knocked on his door. Inside his eighteen year odd daughter, Mary, lay on a cot in obvious pain. She looked like she had been hit by freight train. Susan began talking to her in low voice barely audible to the rest of us.

Half an hour later we left the apartment. Once in the car Susan said, “I need a drink. Do you know a good place around here where we can have a drink and go over today’s notes?”

I quickly found a quiet looking bar. If I had been by myself I would have ordered a whisky sour, but I wanted to make the proper impression so I ordered a Scotch and water. Susan said, “Somehow I knew that’s exactly what you would order.” Before I could respond she changed gears and topic and told me Mary’s story.

Mary had started running with a Chicano motorcycle gang known as the “Desperados”. The Desperados treated her as common property subject the whim of any of them. They forced into streetwalking and told her that if she didn’t produce she would have to fight in the Pit. One evening Chico Ramirez, a gang member who had been acting as her pimp, ordered to climb on the back of his bike.

Chico drove her out of the city turning down an old gravel county road until they came to a building with a lot of cars parked around it. Upon entering the building, Christine instantly recognized that building had been built for dog fights. A four feet deep pit had been dug in the center of the building. The pit had wooden sides surrounding it. On top of the wooden sides stood a five foot high chicken wire fence

Chico ripped her clothes off, placed a dog collar around her neck and led her by a leash into the pit. There Chico forced her fight one Christine Salazar also known as the Queen of the Pit. The fight consisted of three minute rounds with two minute recovery time between rounds. The fight ended when a fighter could not make it to her mark to start the next round.

After three rounds of being brutalized by Christine, Mary could no longer defend herself. The fight, however, continued with Chico using a cattle prod to assist Mary in crawling to her mark. Christine loved to taunt her foe and play to the crowd. Christine solicited requests from the crowd on what moves use on Mary. Finally Mary lost consciousness and, when she came to she found herself in the hospital with an assortment of internal injuries and a fallen uterus.

Susan’s eyes blazed as she finished Mary’s story. She looked at me and said, “Bud, we need a cover story to infiltrate this catfight mob. What I would give to go a few rounds with this Christine Salazar.”

I winced. Although I would have loved to see Susan put in her place, I didn’t want to see her brutalized like Mary.

Susan then looked at me and said, “Why Bud, you old softie.” Her next words were like a bolt from the blue. “Would you like to wrestle?”

Completely stunned, I somehow managed a “Yes, would you like to go to my place?”

“No offense, but I don’t want to have to dodge used pizza boxes and cockroaches. We’ll go to my house.”

When I parked my car in her drive way, I still expected to wake up any moment from this dream. Although somewhat fearful of blowing the whole deal, I decided to go for broke and said, “You know, a little penalty for the loser might make things more interesting” So far she hadn’t shown any negative reaction so I took a deep breath and continued, “I have some toys in my trunk that the winner could use on the loser. Nothing extreme you understand, we could try some mild bondage and maybe a light spanking.”

She smiled and said, “Such stuff as wet dreams are made. Go ahead and bring your toys in.”

Next we entered her house and proceeded to clear a space in the living room. I watched as she peeled down to her panties and then started to do some stretching exercises. I quickly followed suit and undressed to my boxer shorts.

Finally she finished her stretching and stood, faced me and asked, “Ready?” I nodded and the match was on. I had a weight advantage of about fifty pounds and stood six inches taller than her. I moved toward her and we tied up elbow to elbow. All of a sudden she ducked under my left arm and managed to get behind me. I could feel her head in the small of my back as her arms encircled my waist. Her right hand shot under the elastic band of my shorts while she gripped her right wrist with her left hand..

I gasped as I felt her right hand cup my testicles. She held them firmly but didn’t apply any pressure. Oddly her grip on my testicles felt more protective than threatening although clearly she was showing that she had control of things. She jammed her feet against my heels and pulled me down on top of her and then quickly rolled me over and released her grip on my testicles.

She controlled me the same way a deep sea fisherman controls his catch, by giving me enough line to wear my self out. Had she tried to control things more tightly, I would have had a chance to manhandle her with superior strength. She didn’t let that happen, keeping always on the move and anticipating and countering my every move. However she did manage to make me carry her weight and I felt exhaustion started taking over.

She used her legs expertly like another set of arms; she would grapevine my legs and then using that as a beachhead for some other maneuver. At one point when I had made it to my hands and knees she suddenly climbed on my back and applied a figure four scissors with the stem leg of the four wrapped around my ankle. As she leaned forward, the leg wrapped around my waist went into my gut with great force. As I strained to breathe she converted to a crucifix pinning combination.

As she held me on my back totally immobile I gasped, “Damn, you have deceptively strong legs.” She laughed and said, “I used leverage not strength. What you felt was mechanical advantage. Tell you what Fromage, why don’t we let you try the top position and see what you can do.”

Finally, I though, I can use my muscles and overpower her. We assumed an armature starting position with me on top. I put a tight arm ride on her and squeezed with all my might. I think my strength surprised her as she could not execute her favorite escapes. But she quickly adapted and started moving backwards and forwards forcing me to loosen my grip, and then using a technique called swimming managed a reversal.

Breaking me down, she stuck a deep half nelson and mechanical advantage soon had me on my back. Once more her right arm shot under waistband of my shorts and she asked for a submission. Although exhausted and knowing that she had complete control, I felt that I couldn’t submit and maintain my dignity. So I refused and braced myself for the worse.

Ever so delicately, she squeezed my testicles slightly and bolt of pain shot through my body. I figured I felt enough pain for an honorable surrender and shouted out my submission.

She removed my shorts and said, “Just lay here and recover while I see what’s in your little bag of toys.”

She came back with the bag and produced a small but thick rubber band which she put around the base of my meatus. “There that should clamp off your urethra, we don’t want any messy accidents.”

She pulled out a chair and sat down saying, “Now crawl over here and ask me politely to spank your naughty behind. You will address me as Ms. Hamilton from now on.”

I crawled over and asked, “Ms. Hamilton, would you please spank my naughty behind?”

“I would be happy to Bud, Now raise your hands above your head and we’ll put these cuffs on that you thoughtfully provided. Good, now drape yourself over my knees.”

As I worked my way on to her lap, I could feel my ass heating up in anticipation of the spanking.

“Why, Bud your cheeks are blushing.”

When she finished the spanking which caused more humiliation than pain, she started rummaging through my bag. I heard a click and the purr of the vibrator that I had packed in the bag. “Pray tell, what you intended to do with this? Now tell the truth” she said as clasped her hand around my testicles”.

“I really didn’t have specific plans Ms. Hamilton, just though they might come in …ouch...O.K., O.K. I thought it might be amusing to force you to play with yourself with the vibrator.”

“I don’t know why men find it so fascinating to see big foreign objects shoved up a woman. I’ll say this for you. At least it’s soft and pliable. I don’t think most men know how soft an erect penis actually is or how easily a woman’s inside can be damaged.”

“O.K. Bud I am going to place this baby in your mouth, I would recommend that you lick it good as your salvia is the only lubricant this baby’s going to have when a ram it up your rectum …There, that’s a good boy, you are a natural born licker.”

She didn’t actually ram in my ass, but worked it in gently. Still I didn’t get a lot of pleasure out having that vibrator buzzing in my ass. Satisfied she laid me back down on the mat and got up and removed her panties.

“Would you like a nice face sitting session?”

I answered truthfully, “Yes Ms. Hamilton.”

She knelt astride my body, facing my feet and lowered herself on my face. Instinctively my tongue found her pussy as a variety of odors assaulted my nose. Her pussy oozed heat and juices as I licked her. She allowed enough air in to keep me conscious.

She teased my penis enough to keep it constantly erect. My body tried to ejaculate but couldn’t force open my urethra and my testicles ached from the effort. I don’t know how long she rode my face, but my jaws and tongue ached. Every time I slowed down her hands would cup my testicles in a gentle reminder to keep working. Finally when I felt myself passing out she rose off me and a blast of fresh started to revive me.

She unlocked the cuffs and then removed the rubber band from my penis and said “You served your penalty, Bud. Let’s go to bed. She helped me to her bedroom and laid my exhausted body on the bed. Then she climbed on top on my penis and gently made love to me. I fell asleep in her arms.

Thus ended the first day of our journey that would lead to The Pit