Author’s note 1: This is another story inspired by the world of staciliv’s “Another Really Stupid Bet”. (Go read it now!)
Author’s note2 : This story was also inspired by the late Dave Lampert, inventor of the Sybian. To quote his daughter, “He wanted women to be in control of their own sexuality and responsibility for their sexual health and organs.” What an admirable goal, may we all be winners when it comes to that.
Thanks to kallyreys for editing this story.
——————
The woman was of average height and approaching her sexual maturity. She sat in profile in a thin white cotton dress, parted and draped over the saddle. She was leaning forward, exposing the milky-white tops of her full, but not large breasts. She rested her weight on her forearms with her delicate hands splayed on the pommel. Her bent legs emerged from slits in the dress with her bare feet in stirrups. I noticed her fingernails and toenails were painted the bright gaudy red color all Semental putas wear.
She looked down, hiding her face within a curtain of long, straight, dark brown hair.
I hoped she was having second thoughts.
The host stepped on the stage in a black suit and white shirt to wind up the crowd. “Evening everyone,” he said in a loud cheerful voice in accented English. “Are you ready for a show?”
A few polite claps came from the audience. The host tried again.
“Are you ready for a show?” he repeated, louder than before. A few in the crowd hollered. The man walked in front of the seated woman.
“This is Margo,” he gestured with his arm, “She is going to do the Semental Challenge, aren’t you, my dear?” he asked the contestant.
Margo raised her head up, blushing, but nodded, staring at the announcer. She had a very expressive face, soft hazel eyes and full lips, covered with bright red lipstick matching her nails. She glanced up at the mirrored windows of the control booth high above the audience. Then she turned her attention back to the announcer as he continued his introduction.
“Margo, here are the rules for the Challenge: You are sitting on the greatest fucking machine ever made, our namesake, the Semental.”
The crowd jeered and clapped.
The announcer pointed to the large display on the back wall of the stage, gesturing for Margo to look back. “The timer is set for three minutes. You’ll ride for two minutes. We’ll ring the buzzer and you’ll have one minute to get off the horse. You will not be tied up or restrained in any manner during the Challenge. If you step off Semental before the timer ends, you win $10,000. Otherwise you get nothing. Do you understand Margo?”
Margo nodded shyly, then looked down.
The announcer turned to the audience. “Are YOU ready?” he asked. They yelled affirmatively.
“All right, VAMONOS!” The announcer shouted and stepped back.
The countdown began.
——————
TWO MONTHS PRIOR
Dr. Smith’s intake interview of candidate 73 started with a promising profile: Height 1.69 m, Weight 58 kg, Breast 85 cm B cup, Waist 63 cm, and Hips 92 cm. Brown hair, hazel eyes. She was a divorced female in her early 30’s with no close relations. She had few sexual partners, and divorced over a lack of intimacy after a miscarriage. Her poor sexual responsiveness flagged her for rejection; she barely registered a clitoral orgasm and found vaginal penetration painful. Dr. Smith delivered her to me shaking his head.
Despite the likelihood of the candidate being unusable, I ran her through a full set of blood work and reference photos without protest—a strong positive indicator of submissive tendencies. I started my vaginal imaging procedures on her for the Semental attachment despite the likelihood of rejecting her. The candidate experienced some discomfort until I applied a slight numbing agent. Up until this point, she had been quiet and obedient throughout the process.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked as I moved the modified hysteroscope inside her, taking notes. She sat up in the stirrups, covering her breasts with one hand and combing her hair with the other, oblivious to the cuffs hanging at the neck of the head cushion.
“I am imaging your vagina. It’s part of your physical examination. Now please lean back,” I replied absently. The order usually ended most conversations.
“I know it’s part of the examination, I just want to know what you do with the images. My OB/GYN isn’t this thorough. They usually leave it for the specialists,” she insisted.
“We are a small clinic. As you see we do almost everything ourselves and these are my own procedures,” I snapped.
“You still haven’t told me why you are taking images of me,” she pointed out.
“It’s for the Semental Challenge,” I explained. Sometimes candidates came in for reasons other than the Challenge, but if they were getting this examination, they were going to ride the Semental eventually, voluntarily or otherwise.
“I’m not here for that. I’m on vacation,” she said.
“What about winning $10,000?” I pointed out.
“Oh, I couldn’t do that! I’d die of embarrassment, knowing people were there to watch me come,” said the woman, shuddering. “Besides, what chance to I have? I mean there must have been a hundred women who have tried the Challenge and lost.”
“66 to be exact, and there will never be a winner,” I said with a bit of pride.
“Why not? Does it have anything to do with the images?” asked the candidate.
“It has everything to do with it!” I said with growing annoyance. “Studying the image of your vagina tells me everything about you!”
“Really?” she asked, fascinated. “What does it say about me?”
I rolled and turned the monitor to where she could see it from her position and made some initial observations. At first I merely confirmed Dr. Smith’s interview: “You appear to be in your early 30’s and slightly obese. You had a difficult childbirth. You are not sexually active.”
“I don’t have sex anymore,” explained the woman. “It hurts. My ex-husband called me a ‘participation trophy wife’ during the divorce.”
I was unfamiliar with that term. “What is a ‘participation trophy’?” I asked.
“A participation trophy is given out to the contestants who come in last. It’s like a reward for losing,” she explained.
“Senora R—-,” I started
“Just Margo,” she corrected.
I started over. “Miss Margo, it is my belief that a good spouse should consider their partner a ‘great prize’ trophy.”
“I was,” she said sadly. “But not anymore.”
I didn’t know how to reply to that. Instead, I cleared my throat and returned to my work.
We were both quiet for a few moments while I studied the images, then I switched to the ultrasound and confirmed my diagnosis.
“Your difficulty with penetrative sex is no surprise. You experienced an injury to your pelvic floor, during your delivery that was uncorrected. While you have been compensating, probably through exercise, it’s been insufficient to completely heal the trauma. Painful sex is often a symptom of the issue.”
“I…I never knew that,” said the woman wonderingly. Then she asked, “Can it be fixed?”
I studied the image. “It should be a simple procedure. I can even do it here. After recovering for a week, we can send you to our yoga instructor Johanna for physical therapy to teach you how to tone your pelvic floor. If you continue that regime for about eight to ten weeks, you will be much better.”
“Thank you Dr. Cruz!” she exclaimed. “How much will it cost?”
“I will go talk to Julio about arrangements for your treatment and stay,” I said. I helped her out of the stirrups. She sat up, holding her shirt to her chest, dangling her legs at the edge of the seat like a little girl. I gave her a blanket to keep warm. “I’ll be back.”
Julio and Dr. Smith were already waiting for me in Smith’s office, looking grim.
“Damn Puta 39!” Julio swore. “After Puta 67 she sends us her friend with a broken cono! I’ll put her with the dogs!” Julio vowed.
“We should consider Mrs. R— for organ harvest. She has no one who would miss her,” said Dr. Smith. He was always impatient. If a woman wasn’t halfway to being a puta when she came to us, she was useless.
“She has a condition that is treatable,” I said. “We should reevaluate her after I perform a minor procedure and we give her to Johanna for training. It should take about two months. She can stay on the hotel side. Plus I can use her for some research with the Semental,” I offered.
Julio leaned against Dr. Smith’s desk thoughtfully. “Hosting a medical vacation? Semental R&D? How intriguing…” Then his business mind kicked in. “Who’s going to pay for the operation and her expenses?”
“I’ll pay for it,” I offered, disgusted by Julio’s greed. “If she works out, the organization can reimburse me. If not, we send her on her way none the wiser, or Dr. Smith’s option.”
“It sounds like a little bet,” said Julio. “Agreed.”
——————
Eight days later I confirmed the procedure went well with no signs of infection. Margo, Johanna and I were in my office to discuss Margo’s physical therapy. Both women sat on the couch behind the coffee table while I sat at my desk.
Johanna was more than a yoga teacher: She called herself a “sacred prostitute.” Her religion was human sexuality which was in a way, similar to my work. We were good friends because our vocations made us kindred spirits. I do not understand what she does but I have the highest professional admiration for her seduction skills and intuition. Puta 55 was an activist who organized a protest in front of the hotel, but after one “talk” with Johanna, she joined us enthusiastically without riding the Semental.
Johanna was one of the few female employees who passed freely between the hotel and bordello. She treated the two businesses the same, teaching yoga to tourists and sexual techniques (she called them “sexercises”) to the putas. Johanna could use either forms of exercise with Margo.
“Let’s see what we have to work with,” said Johanna. She made Margo rise from the couch and stand in front of her. Johanna reached under Margo’s dress and pulled her panties down before Margo knew what was happening. She reached for the sanitizer on the coffee table. In less than a minute, Johanna had Margo’s wrists crossed behind her back held in Johanna’s left hand while her right hand felt the woman under her dress. Margo stood quietly, shocked, wide-eyed but docile, shifting in Johanna’s touch.
I leapt out of my chair. “No penetration for another week!” I shouted over the desk.
Johanna nodded, her hands full, and concentrated on her assessment of Margo.
“Her Mula Bandha experienced significant trauma, but you seemed to have properly adjusted her so she can lock properly. Excellent work! Her Sacral Chakra is still out of balance and closed tight, but we’ll fix that. Now let’s see where her sexuality is, hmmm?.” Johanna’s brows tightened. Then Margo bent over, squeezing her thighs together, covering her groin with her hands. Johanna gave her a quick spank under her dress. “Stand straight and spread!” she snapped, pulling Margo’s knees apart and straightening her posture. When she was satisfied, Johanna took Margo’s wrists behind her back again. Johanna’s other hand reached under the dress to continue whatever test she was performing. Margo stood swaying, knees trembling and eyes closed, gently panting. An occasional exhale turned into a moan. Her face tightened and her whole upper half turned red under Johanna’s touch. Even I was entranced. I told myself to ask Johanna about her technique.
Johanna finished her assessment and shook her head. “Still dormant. It’s too early,” she declared, removing her hand. Margo stared at her, her face red and flushed, looking as if she was going to cry. Johanna laughed. “Did that feel good?” she teased. Margo bowed her head and nodded. “Good, we’ll make a slut out of you yet!” promised Johanna. She removed her hands from Margo who bent to reach for her panties. Johanna smacked Margo’s buttocks while catching the panties with a dexterous foot and drew them down to Margo’s ankles.
“Let your yoni breathe for a while. No panties until I see you at Sunset Yoga class at six,” she instructed. She pushed Margo upright. “Bend your knees first, squat and remove them.”
Margo did as instructed, spreading her knees as she squatted, unintentionally flashing me before stepping out of her undergarment and picking it up with her hand. She stood, turning towards Johanna, hands in front of her, bunching her panties nervously, head down submissively like a guilty child. Johanna had that effect on people.
Johanna looked approvingly and dismissed her. “Now off you go!”
“Please don’t forget our follow-up two weeks from now,” I added.
Margo nodded and fled, panties crushed in her hand.
I had some instructions for Johanna as well. “Please limit the amount of penetration the first week or so, and use sterile, neutral solutions.”
Johanna nodded, reaching for more sanitizer and tissues on the coffee table. “You were right not to let them pass on her. With patience and training, 73 will be a delightfully exquisite whore. I’ll start on her immediately.”
I clarified my intentions, “I didn’t bring you in to seduce her. With your help, I fully intend to use the Semental to help her recovery and send her home.” I added, “She really isn’t interested in the Challenge or the money.”
“She’ll take the Challenge,” Johanna promised.
——————
Two weeks later, Margo came in for another evaluation and her fitting session. Normally a rough fitting is done during the intake session with the first imaging, but I wanted to do hers post-procedure when I believed she could handle the tests. This time she seemed to have a better range of responses to the stimulation, TENS settings and focal points. She was aroused, lubricating well, and experienced minor penetration without pain or discomfort. Johanna had an excellent start to her recuperation.
Margo watched me mark locations on her image.
“What happens now?” she asked.
“Now I design and fabricate your attachment based on your imaging and responses,” I explained. For demonstration, I brought in the attachment for an upcoming contestant, ex-employee 65 (unidentified for anonymity) and loaded her image. I demonstrated the rough surface of the base’s clitoral ridge, and showed Margo how the dildo’s G-spot horn, key flex points, thickness and curvature matched 65’s measurements.
“So every women gets an attachment that’s built to touch her favorite spots and she’s supposed to hop off while it’s giving her the best time she’s ever had?” Margo asked.
“That’s essentially the Challenge,” I said. “However, in your case we will be using Semental to strengthen your core by stimulating your internal muscles.”
“Will I get pleasure too?” She inquired suddenly, blushing.
“Of course!” I reassured her. “It’s an essential part of the therapy. I’ll be monitoring you to make sure you don’t overwork yourself.”
Margo’s face turned redder. “Golly,” she said.
——————
A couple days later I took Margo downstairs to the bordello side to test her attachment. Based on her familiarity with the locker room, Johanna must have brought her there before, presumably for the sexercises sessions. She walked to locker 73 to change, while I waited like a gentleman by the door to the preparation and training rooms.
“Johanna usually lets me in,” she said from behind the lockers. “She said you will make me a key collar.”
“I have thought about it,” I admitted, “but that might not be a good idea. I don’t want you coming here by yourself.” The staff might mistake her for an unmarked puta and try to train her. I was surprised I found that thought so appealing.
“What should I wear?” she asked.
“You can wear a robe for now, but you should probably be naked in case we attach monitoring tabs,” I replied.
We went past the large training rooms to one of the smaller rooms that held a Semental. It was very small, almost a closet, with mirrored walls and a floor drain for easy cleaning. Someone must have used it for BDSM because there was an open box of restraints and a dildo was mounted on the mirror in front of the Semental at groin height. Margo’s eyes popped as I hastily removed it and placed it into the box. I opened the closet behind one of the mirrored walls. I hid the box and located some supplies (towels, disinfectant, various cleaners and lubricant) and the tablet I needed plugged into a USB charger.
I took off my coat and put it in the closet to get to work. I used my mini toolset to open the Semental, checking if it required maintenance. It seemed to be in good condition: The gears were clean and oiled, contacts clean and the temperature-controlled lubricant-spermicide-disinfectant reserve levels were adequate.
“You seem very familiar with the Semental. Did you invent it?” Margo commented, observing me.
I continued my assessment while answering her thoughtfully. “My late father was one of the engineers working for Senor Lampert, the creator of the Sybian. They were visionaries. I grew up helping him make his own machine and I went to medical school to specialize in gynecological studies and human sexuality. Semental is completely new. I have refined the design with many improvements: TENS technology, better shape and articulation, feedback sensors and remote control among other things.”
“I’m sure your father would be proud of you,” said Margo, earnestly.
I smiled at the thought of my father, but I knew the truth. “No,” I said.
I finished the maintenance check. I opened the case I brought and showed Margo her Semental attachment with its dildo and connecting base. “Here. This is yours. I made it for you.”
Margo took the attachment hesitantly. She turned it various ways, stroking and bending it. She ran her thumb over the surface of the clitoral ridge on the base, feeling the rough texture. Margo squeezed the head of the dildo with her fingers and smiled.
“When I couldn’t have sex with my husband, I practiced a lot at doing this,” she said. Margo looked at me playfully and placed the shaft of the dildo in her mouth, looking at me impishly as she tested how much she could swallow.
“Don’t bite down too hard,” I cautioned, “You could break a tooth on the metal. The vaginal dildo was not meant for oral insertion.” I found it unsanitary when the staff make the women perform fellatio on the dildos, but it made for popular scenes.
Margo’s expression shifted from playful to regret. She pulled the dildo out of her mouth. “It wasn’t enough to save my marriage.” She offered the attachment back to me.
I reassured her. “This therapy will allow you to get past that. Concentrate on this session.” I took the dildo back from Margo, and considered today’s program. I removed the shaft and seated just the base into the Semental’s seating. I put the cover back and turned it on, waiting for it to connect to the tablet. In the meantime, I disinfected the shaft and placed it back into the case.
“Let’s limit today’s session to external stimulation,” I suggested. I used the disinfectant and a towel to wipe the Semental and gestured for Margo to get on.
Margo stepped over the Semental and opened her robe to sit on the saddle.
“Just get comfortable,” I coaxed. She shifted and nodded when she felt she was ready, but I could tell she was apprehensive.
“You may feel a lot of different sensations,” I started, “but if there’s ANY pain, I want you to get off the saddle and tell me.” I waited for her to confirm she understood before I continued. “Don’t worry, if you become incontinent. That’s why we have the drain,” I indicated the hole in the floor.
Her eyes widened at the possibilities, but she nodded.
“Let’s begin,” I said. I initiated the Semental’s warm-up sequence.
“We’re going to apply some lubricant,” I announced. Margo gave a start, but remained seated, looking curious as Semental wet her loins with a generous warm spray. This prevents chafing during the ride and it was especially helpful for women who couldn’t produce enough of their own moisture.
I set the Semental to “Learning” mode and observed. It was an education period for both the woman and the Semental. The woman acclimates to the experience, finds her seat and how she likes to rock her hips. Sensors in the saddle and dildo monitor her vitals and determine what vibration frequency, TENS patterns and dildo angles she enjoys the most.
Margo had been squirming uncomfortably in the saddle, but then she gasped and straightened. She must have found her seat on the clitoral ridge of the base. Clitoral stimulation is a tricky business. The clitoris spans nearly the entire outer vagina, not just the tiny protuberance under the hood. I designed the shape of the ridge to contact as much of the clitoris as possible. I nodded approvingly as Margo ground herself on the ridge and moaned. It was a healthy sexual response.
Johanna insightfully said if you keep a woman’s vagina hungry she will think of nothing else: During the Challenge, the Semental has to provide enough stimulation to keep the rider interested, but not enough to allow her to orgasm until her minute to get off has passed. This leads to an interesting paradox on how we control the rider: The more actively the woman rides, the less stimulation she receives. This prevents bruising and chafing and discourages violent motions. When she tries to get up or focus on something else, Semental increases her stimulation promising more pleasure if she continues riding. This is all measured and customized against each woman’s personal baseline. How forcefully one woman gallops is not comparable with another woman’s light trot. The main thing is they both keep riding, unable to think about leaving the saddle. Once Semental properly evaluates a woman’s baseline, we can keep her riding indefinitely or introduce other programming. We call this “Pacify” mode.
I gave the woman a few minutes before gently shaking her. “Margo, how are you doing?” I asked.
Margo woke up from her trance, eyelids heavy. “This is wonderful,” she said. Then she asked in a higher pitched voice, “Is there more?”
I laughed, “You mean, can you orgasm?”
She blushed, but nodded.
“This will be our baseline,” I explained. “Whenever we go through an exercise or pleasure, we will return you to this feeling. Margo?” She had already lost focus, eyes closed. I shook her again.
“Sorry,” she apologized, rousing herself.
I smiled. “Understandable. Before we do a ‘Pleasure’ session, I’m going to give you a light ‘Strength’ session. We’re going to use the TENS aspect to massage your outer vagina. I want you to relearn how to bear down again. Follow the stimulation. It’s okay if you orgasm from this, but if there’s any pain, you hop off. Understand?” I shook her again.
“Yes,” said Margo, albeit a bit unfocused.
I initiated the “Strength” session. This was custom-made for Margo, so I was particularly concerned for any potential issues. Margo smiled pleasantly as the Semental hummed away, but I saw her forehead wrinkle in concentration during contraction training.
I had to pause the program several times to guide her into isolating her pelvic floor, holding her thighs and belly lightly. “Don’t use your thighs or chest muscles,” I coached. “Just use your core, your inner muscles.”
“I can’t,” she whimpered.
“You can,” I encouraged. “You’ve just lost touch with them. First learn to feel the muscles, then we’ll work on isolating them. This will be easier once we get to penetration.”
I could tell she was becoming frustrated, so I stopped the session. “That’s enough for today,” I declared. “How about some orgasms? You’ve earned them.” She nodded timidly, as if she felt shame or guilt in feeling good.
I set Semental to “Pleasure,” and let it run. Margo looked at me skeptically, but I knew better. Semental IS an orgasm machine.
“Oh?!” gasped Margo eyes wide, bewildered as she came.
“There’s more,” I promised and let the program continue to run and refine.
Soon she began whimpering and shuddering as Semental took her through a series of orgasms. I noticed she was trying to hold herself back, but we would overcome that in time.
“No, I can’t! NO!” she cried, shuddering and sobbing, but she didn’t hop off.
I had been monitoring Margo’s vitals on the tablet during her “Pleasure” session, pleased at her response. Her vitals were still well within tolerance, but I stopped the program quickly, frowning at her ambiguous words.
“Margo, are you hurt? What is wrong?” I asked. I must have missed something and scanned every reading for some indication of danger. I crouched down and ran my hands over Margo’s thighs and vulva. I spread her open slightly, looking and feeling for signs of injury.
She shook her head. “It’s so wonderful to feel real pleasure again.” She looked at me. “Thank you,” she said softly.
“Let’s end for today,” I suggested. “I’m sure Johanna will have her own exercises for you.”
——————
Two weeks later, I took a break between servicing the Sementals to eat lunch with Johanna. We sat in a corner so we could carry our discussion on sexual matters without disturbing the other diners.
“73 is coming along nicely,” commented Johanna. “I’m going to give her advanced Kegel exercises this week.”
I nodded. “That sounds in line with our therapy. We’ve reintroduced her to vaginal penetration last week. She is redeveloping a positive response and pretty soon she’ll take pleasure in sex again.”
Johanna laughed. “I’ll say she’s developing a positive response. She was so cute, so pink with embarrassment, soaking her panties during sexercises, trying to pretend it was sweat. I should make her practice nude with the other whores. That’s why we have rubber mats and towels.”
Johanna stopped to look at me carefully.
“Do you want to reserve her now?” she asked, leading.
“What do you mean?” I said. “Margo, I mean 73 is a patient.” I had spoken her name. It was supposed to be all business, impersonal and about moving products.
“Margo,” Johanna said, savoring my mistake, “is ripe for the taking. She is so delightfully submissive. Montenegro is licking her lips at the chance to get her. Should I get one of the handlers to seduce her or are you going to fuck her? Gregor likes her.”
“I said she is DEVELOPING a positive response,” I said angrily. “It’s definitely too early to engage her in a relationship. She’s not ready physically and I doubt emotionally as well. 73 is a PATIENT and I WILL NOT compromise my charge. And since I’m the one paying for her treatment, I don’t want it interfered with. She’s off limits to everyone and I’d appreciate it if you pass that along.”
Johanna nodded, agreeing to my request. She picked at her salad for a bit. Then she whispered mischievously, “How much would you like to bet she likes it up the ass?”
I shook my head in wonder. “Your instincts are as good as ever. Semental’s monitoring already shows she unconsciously enjoys anal stimulation. I think it has to do with the angle and size of the perineum, plus some psychological influences that I would have to determine through psychoanalysis. I’ve started designing some changes to her base to stimulate around her anus. I’m looking forward to future sessions to introduce them…” I stopped when I realized I was rambling with ambitious plans.
“See, you do like her,” Johanna laughed.
——————
We aimed for 3 sessions a week in the training room. We gradually increased the intensity of the “Strength” and “Endurance” programs. After two more weeks, we reintroduced coital simulation and used vaginal orgasms as a reward. Margo would be able to experience pleasure in sexual intercourse once more.
I was proud of Margo’s progress. I believed I would miss our sessions together. With her permission, I thought about submitting her anonymously to the Journal of Sexual Studies as a case study for Semental and other sexual aids in therapeutic applications.
After each workout, I gave Margo her “Pleasure” session as a reward. She was learning to be less inhibited, but generally she limited her vocalization to quiet moans. Her physical responses however, were a different story. I was too close to her and she grabbed and pulled out my shirt, dragging me to her and burying her face into the cloth.
“Yes! Yes, Esteban!” she said into the cloth, hugging me tightly as she shuddered. When she realized what she was doing, she released me, leaving makeup on the shirt. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I’ll get it cleaned.” She reached to undress me.
“It’s okay,” I deflected. “It’s a common response to want to embrace something. I haven’t figured out how to address that with Semental. Mostly we just lock your wrists to the saddle or collar,” I said. Inwardly I frowned at her saying my name.
I had a feeling I knew who gave it to Margo.
——————
I had two different encounters, both which reminded me I had a schedule to keep with 73.
I met Johanna when I picked up my shirt from the cleaners. She smiled.
“What happened to your shirt?” she asked innocently.
“I’d rather know how she got my name out of you,” I retorted.
“73 asked,” answered Johanna sweetly. “She wanted to know all about you. I told her how you’re a lonely single doctor, dedicated to your work and only take the occasional whore from the stable to dominate. Then she asked how she could join the stable.” Johanna laughed. “I told her the easiest way. Was that her clumsy attempt to seduce you?” She laughed again. “Did it work?”
I defended my patient. “Margo won’t be a puta. I think she’s ready to go home.”
“Oh Esteban, how little you know about a woman’s soul,” said Johanna with mock disappointment. “Women are whores by nature, it’s just a matter of price and payment. She’s offering, just give in and enjoy,” she advised.
I bid Johanna a curt goodbye and took the elevator to my office.
——————
That Thursday, Julio stopped me before I entered the clinic. “Are you finished with 73?” he snarled. “It’s been over two months. You’re wasting time and opportunities in your private sex sessions with her.”
I was still fuming from Johanna’s comment the other day. “Julio, those are private therapy sessions between doctor and patient. If I find you have been watching or posting them, we’re through.” I was considering quitting on the spot.
Julio realized from my expression he might have gone too far. He took a breath and calmed, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Esteban,” he apologized, raising his hands. “I just don’t see why you should continue your personal sessions since 73 requested to take the Challenge.”
My surprise must have been obvious because Julio’s tone changed. “Yes,” he confirmed, “73 requested to take the Challenge. Dr. Smith scheduled her for this weekend. Would you like to run the Semental during the show?”
I felt a mountain of hurt and indignation from Margo’s betrayal. “Most certainly,” I said grimly.
——————
I wasn’t being objective during the session. I was in a foul mood. Margo was not who I thought she was. I put her through a very intense regime, with both “Strength” and “Endurance” set to maximum. Margo grunted and sweated without complaint until the program ended.
“Whew!” she exclaimed, wiping her brow. “If this weekend is going to be like this, I’m done for sure.”
“What’s happening this weekend?” I asked as neutral as possible.
“I signed up for the Semental Challenge,” Margo explained. “Dr. Smith scheduled me for this weekend since I was already on file and fitted.”
“I thought you said you didn’t need the money?” I asked. Maybe Johanna was right, all women are whores at heart.
“I don’t. I intend to lose,” she said.
I crouched down. “Margo,” I said urgently, “if you lose, you will become a puta too. You will have sex with many men and women for money. We will post it all online in your OnlyCans account for your mama and papa to see. You will become less than a ‘participation trophy’ wife.”
“I know,” she nodded, “But that’s what I want. I can’t go on living without this.”
I thought she might not understand what was involved and a demonstration was in order. Angrily, I set the Semental on a “Punish” program, where everything, shocks, vibration and stimulation are on high and random, placing the rider in a state where she can’t tell pain from pleasure. Margo was no exception. She shrieked and cried, clawing at the saddle while her feet scraped and kicked the floor. I switched the program to “Service” and the moment it was safe, I lowered my trousers and forced my penis into her mouth. I confessed I was more erect than I had been during my other sessions with Margo. She choked initially, but licked and sucked with surprising skill until I came approximately 90 seconds later. I brought the Semental to a stop leaving Margo panting with my semen dripping down her chin. She wiped her chin with her hand and licked it.
“Do you like that?” I demanded. “A puta can expect that and more, like the switch.”
“I LOVED IT!” Margo said defiantly. She leaned over to grab me through my trousers, “And I know you did too.”
I had to be professional, but instead I lost control. I slapped Margo and tried to hurt her more. “You really are a puta, aren’t you?” I sneered.
Margo shook her head, stroking the Semental affectionately. “Not yet,” she said, “Not until this weekend.”
I dragged Margo to her feet. I handed her a towel, refusing to look at her.
“I think this ends your treatment. I declare you fully recovered,” I said. “Now please leave. I have to finish cleaning the room.”
I heard her feet pad on the floor and the door to the training room opened and closed.
——————
The buzzer sounded, warning Margo she had 60 seconds to get off of the Semental. Like most challengers, she didn’t hear it, lost in her ride, eyes closed, concentrating on seeking the orgasm that only occurs during the next phase of the Challenge.
I was going to make her jump off first.
I switched the control to manual and turned the program to “Punish.” Margo leapt in the saddle, bucking and screaming, holding onto the pommel for dear life. The audience roared in appreciation at her energetic performance. Margo’s vitals were creeping into the red line, but she held on. I doubted I could make her pass out and fall off.
I decided to try a different tact. I turned the stimulation off. There was no reason for Margo to stay on the saddle. The seconds ticked by, but she remained seated. She stared up at the control booth with clear, determined eyes.
The audience was silent, confused.
I took a deep breath. This was what she wanted.
The buzzer rang, announcing her chance to leave was over.
I switched the Semental back on and put Margo back on “Pacify.” I linked to the stage controller to prepare her for the next phase of the Challenge.
“Thank you Margo,” said the announcer into the microphone, grabbing both our attention. “You’ve certainly been a good contestant…” he continued, starting the audience participation part of the show.
I grew hard remembering how good her tongue felt in the training room. We didn’t need someone in the booth since the Semental would be run from the stage. Margo was no longer a patient. Perhaps I would head down to the stage and reward myself.
Everybody could win, no “participation trophies” needed.
FIN