In his embrace, I felt particularly small, weak and my defeat was fated from the start.Ever since we were married, I had been conditioned by my husband to orgasm only from pain. Several times I was whipped to intense orgasms by his leather belt—he loved to tie me to a chair, or push me against the wall with his enormous hand, or have me restrained to a foot of the table in the dining room, and then he would whip me bloody, sometimes he wouldn't stop until the belt itself was stained with my blood. Not only from whipping, also from other forms of torture such as, what my husband liked to call, ?wooden horse torture?, ?electricity torture?, ?candle wax torture?, ?chopsticks torture?, I derived immense pleasure. I always had to swaddle my screams, with either my husband's dirty socks or a piece of round fruit such as an orange stuffed into my mouth, in order not to draw the attention of neighbors in our apartment building on the Upper East Side.I had a job before I got married but once. Simone's hair was actually shorter than Simon's and from behind they were totally interchangeable.Although Simon's walk was not particularly masculine in style, you could not mistake him for the swinging saunter of the very feminine Simone.The apartment took up the entire third floor of the venerable pre-World War II building located in the center of the city. Even though their Aunt was short on ready cash, the myriad of fine antiques in the Apartment would be enough to sustain the twins for many years to come. The taxes and insurance and other expenses were all taken care of by the trust fund endowed by their long departed grandfather in typical Hutchinson fashion.The twin's relationship was a very complicated one.They had both undergone extensive psychological evaluation when they were only teenagers of 16. That was the result of having been written up as a study by their eccentric mother in a scientific journal given to sensational journalism.Their total lack of inhibitions with.
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