 |
|||
|
|
Tim got off the plane and searched the crowd at the baggage claim area for his father’s driver. He noticed a well-built Hispanic man holding a sign with his name on it. “Hi,” he said, “I’m Tim.” The Hispanic replied, “I’m Manuel. I’m the driver.” “Where’s John?” asked Tim, referring to his father’s longtime driver. “Oh, he got laid off a month or so ago and I’m the replacement,” said Manuel somewhat nervously. Tim was surprised. What could John have done to get laid off?
They went out to his father’s Jaguar and drove to the estate. Tim noticed that Manuel seemed uncomfortable and kept shifting around in his seat. What he didn’t know was why: that morning Lucia Sanchez had given him a severe whipping with a 48” dressage whip. The dozen strokes had left him with burning red welts that ran like ridges across both his ass cheeks. Where the welts crossed were points of special pain. It was not the first whipping Manuel had suffered. Lucia had sized up his vulnerabilities as an illegal immigrant when she hired him and had exploited them to the hilt, making him her favorite whipping boy.
About an hour after they arrived at Peter’s mansion, Tim was watching TV when he heard the rapid clicking of high heels. He swiveled around and found himself face to face with the most spectacular woman he had ever seen in person and pretty much the most spectacular he had seen cruising the internet or in dirty magazines. Lucia was wearing a pair of skin-tight hip-hugger jeans that rode a full six inches below her belly button. A broad, brown belt cinched them up. Her hard, flat midriff was decorated with a thin gold waist chain and a diamond belly button piercing. She wore a narrow white tube top that barely contained her oversized breasts and that left her delicate, powerful shoulders and arms unencumbered. She wore another gold necklace around her slender neck. Her dark hair was drawn back in a pony tail. A pair of sky-high heels completed her ensemble and gave her legs and ass a taut, sexy look.
As was her custom with men, she didn’t smile as she extended her arm to Tim. “Hello,” she said coolly, “you must be Timmy.” “Well, er, ah, it’s really Tim,” Tim stammered. “I’m Lucia,” she said, ignoring his correction. “I’m sure your father told you about me. I’m living here now and your father has given me charge of the house. That means that I make the rules. I don’t imagine that you’ve got any problem with that, do you, Timmy?”
Tim was about to correct her again on his name, but something told him not to. “Uh, no, that’s OK.” “Good,” she said, “in that case, we won’t have any problems between us and nobody will get hurt.”
Lucia turned away and walked out of the room with Tim staring transfixed at the unbelievable sight of her ass and legs. He was suddenly aware of his cock hardening in his pants and of a desperate desire to beat off. Unfortunately for Tim, he was too distracted to remember her ominous last words.
******
The next morning, Tim was once again in the TV room when he heard the click-click of high heels. Lucia entered the room wearing a tiny bikini and a long diaphanous white shirt. She paid no attention to Tim as she crossed the room in front of the TV and went out the sliding doors to the pool. Tim caught no more than an instant’s glance of her rounded, jutting breasts, only a third of which were covered by the thin material of the bikini top that did little to hide her erect nipples. His mind registered her flat, hard stomach and the tiny cloth covering her cunt. His mouth hanging open, he followed her with his eyes as she removed her shirt and then dove in the pool.
When she got out 45 minutes later, she was aware that his eyes were still on her from the safe distance of the house. She had placed the chaise lounge in such a way that he could see everything, but so that she could also see him. She then began the slow, cock-teasing ritual of anointing her body with suntan lotion. She knew he was following every gesture, so she played erotically with her body, oiling her “guns” (as she called her breasts) as well as her belly, legs and arms.
Since Lucia was wearing dark glasses, Tim couldn’t see whether she was looking in his direction. In any case, he was too excited to think clearly about whether she could see him. Maddened by a raging hard-on, he opened his pants and began to stroke his organ. It scarcely mattered that he had jerked off the night before and again that morning. Within a few moments, he exploded in his hands. Suddenly disgusted at what he had done, he raced to the bathroom to wash off the incriminating evidence. But Lucia had seen it all. She smiled to herself with intense satisfaction. He was already caught in her trap.
*****
The next few days, Lucia subjected Tim to merciless cock teasing. She made sure to wear specially revealing clothing and to display herself in front of him. She left out a copy of FHM Magazine with herself on the cover. The spread inside showed her revealing her breasts but not her pussy and dressed in skimpy dresses and bikinis. Within a few hours, Tim had taken the magazine into his room and Lucia again watched him masturbating shamelessly.
Of course, Lucia had many other things to occupy her besides teasing Tim. She was in the process of breaking in a new gardener’s assistant, which gave her the chance to vent the sadism that was building up inexorably as she prolonged Tim’s agony. Because she wasn’t ready to reveal her methods yet to Tim, she made sure to torture the new boy in her sound-proof domination chamber, which she had had built after moving in.
She was also in the middle of a photo shoot, some of which she arranged to do by the pool. She told Tim that he was allowed to watch, if he wished. And, watch he did, followed by more frantic sessions beating off.
******
The evening after the photo shoot, Peter and Lucia went out to a dinner and returned home around 10:00. Lucia had been coming on to Peter all evening. During dinner, her foot massaged his crotch and on the way home, she released his cock from his pants and gave him a blow-job as he drove, stopping just short of climax. By the time they got home, Peter was so turned on, he could barely hold it in. “let’s go fuck in the bedroom,” Lucia breathed in his ear. No sooner did they get there than Lucia began ripping off his clothes, while he did the same to her. Her nails and teeth were all over him, scratching and biting with abandon. She concentrated on his nipples and cock while he pawed her breasts and cunt. She was intent on getting a verbal response out of him and her efforts were rewarded with loud cries of both pleasure and pain. She herself was doing something that she normally didn’t do: talking dirty as she fucked.
“Make me cum, big boy! Eat my pussy! Do it now! Suck my clit. Faster, harder! Fuck, yeah!” she was virtually yelling in his ear
And, as Peter mounted her: “Fuck me! Harder, harder! Faster! Don’t you dare cum until I tell you.” Just before Peter came, she sodomized his ass with a sharp fingernail and gave his balls a sharp squeeze. He fairly howled as she clamped down on his rod and cried: “Now! Do it!
The intended audience for the show was sitting immobilized in his room listening to the intense sounds coming through the intercom. While Peter and Lucia were in the restaurant, she had called Tom to confirm that Tim was at home and then had him turn on the intercom in the bedroom. The whole house could now hear the sounds of the wanton sex taking place there. Lucia didn’t care. On the contrary, the more the house staff heard, the better. The main point was to get under Tim’s skin and that she had accomplished very successfully. Long after she and Peter had drifted off the sleep, he lay awake bombarded by erotic images of Lucia fucking his father. At once unbelievably aroused and deeply disturbed, he masturbated repeatedly but got no relief even after he had cum several times.
******
Tim was bleary-eyed from lack of sleep the next day and tried to assuage his fatigue and continued psychological distress by watching TV. And, then, Lucia Sanchez came into the room carrying a glass with ice. “Turn off the TV, Timmy,” she said, “I need to talk to you about something.” Tim looked up and got an instant hard-on from the walking wet-dream in front of him. Lucia was dressed in an ultra-tight white knit dress that revealed most of her cleavage, two-thirds of her breasts, and all but six inches of her thighs. She had rubbed generous quantities of moisturizer on her tits and on her slender, cleanly-muscled legs. Her breasts and legs glistened erotically, their bronze tan neatly set off by the white knit of her dress. She wore a pair of sandals with her signature four-inch stiletto heels with straps that wounded half-way up her calves. Her black hair fanned down wildly on her shoulders and back. She delicately sat down on a couch facing Tim and carefully crossed her long legs. The dress rode up her thighs almost to her crotch. Tim’s eyes were riveted on her smooth, tanned legs and he couldn’t help fantasizing about whether she was wearing panties. He desperately tried to hide his erection, which was now full blown, by pulling a magazine across his lap.
Lucia looked at him with amusement, noting well his sexual predicament, which hardly surprised her. She knew exactly the effect she was having on him. “So, Timmy,” she said slowly, “how do you like having me live here?” “Uh, it’s OK, I guess,” he answered stammering. “Just OK? You wouldn’t have any problems with me fucking your father, would you?” Tim, shocked at her words, blushed a deep red and didn’t answer. “You know what I think? I think you’re having some very nasty thoughts about me yourself right now, aren’t you?
Without waiting for an answer, Lucia very slowly and deliberately uncrossed her legs, spread them apart and placed her shoes on the coffee table in front of her. Tim found himself staring directly at her naked, shaved pussy, her swollen labia glistening red with sex juice and her clitoris standing proudly erect. It was as if time stood still as Tim gaped for the first time at the sight that had dominated his fantasies ever since he had first seen Lucia three days before.
“Looks like you’re enjoying the view,” said Lucia, the smirk on her face now widening to a mocking smile. “But you’d better close your mouth before you catch a fly. And you’d also better collapse that tent in your pants before you have an accident.” She re-crossed her legs. “Show’s over for now. But about those nasty thoughts. The problem is that they lead to nasty acts and I won’t allow any of that in this house. I’m very familiar with boys like you and I know you can’t keep your hands where they belong. So, I’m warning you. If I catch you playing with yourself, I’ll punish you severely.” With that blatant warning, Lucia stood up, crossed over to where Tim was sitting, pulled the magazine off his lap, stretched open the elastic band of his shorts and poured all the ice in her glass onto his raging boner and swollen balls. She snapped the elastic painfully against his belly and said coolly, “That ought to put a chill on your excitement.” With her tiny, tight ass swaying, she walked out of the room, her long legs taut and her sky-high heels clicking sharply.
Needless to say, despite her warning and the chilling effect of the ice, Tim rushed into his room, stripped off his shorts, dumped the ice in the sink and frantically began to beat his meat. Too excited to even grab some toilet paper, he came with a cry all over the bathroom floor. What he didn’t know was that Lucia was in her bedroom enjoying the whole webcam show and getting off with her vibrating dildo just as he was climaxing.
It was now a week since Tim had arrived and Lucia was prepared for the next stage in her plan. Tim was now thoroughly addicted to her body, unable to get it out of his mind and fantasizing almost constantly about her.
Lucia decided to up the ante. Wearing white hot pants that were molded to her buttocks, a skin-tight, semi-transparent, off-the-shoulder red leotard top and stiletto heeled calf-high boots, she came striding aggressively into the kitchen where Tim was eating a bowl of cereal. “Call Manuel and tell him to come in here this minute,” she imperiously commanded Tom who was in the next room watching the security cameras. She ignored Tim as she impatiently tapped her finger nails on the counter top.
Manuel came in the kitchen door with a quizzical look on his face. “Why haven’t you cleaned my bathroom?” she demanded harshly. “But I did clean it,” said Manuel. “Then why is it still dirty?” “I don’t think it …” Before Manuel could finish his sentence, Lucia gave him a vicious slap across the face. “How dare you contradict me, scum bag” she hissed. Manuel gasped and raised his hands to defend his face. Lucia gave him a wicked underhand slap to the crotch and followed it by a kick with the tip of her boot. Manuel doubled over with a grunt and Lucia drove her stiletto heel into his instep. He collapsed to the floor with a cry of pain. Lucia gave him a hard kick in the ribs, placed her heel in his throat and rasped: “You’ll learn your place or I’ll crush you. Now get back to that bathroom and clean it right this time.”
She turned on her heel and walked out of the room with quick, confident strides, her heels tapping authoritatively and her hair flying.
Tim was stunned. He couldn’t believe what he had just seen. He had already seen hints that Lucia could be mean, but he never imagined anything like this.
“Get used to it, kid,” said Tom, who had watched the whole scene. “She’s got us all wrapped around her finger, including your dad.”
Manuel painfully got to his feet and, without looking at Tim or Tom, hobbled out of the room half bent over.
Tim was in shock, which was exactly the effect Lucia was after. She liked to terrorize her victims by first making them watch a demonstration of her sadism before she did anything physical to them directly. That way, they were so terrified of her that they would obey without question when she ordered them to submit to her torture. In this case, she had made Manuel clean her bathroom based on a nonexistent infraction. Even though the bathroom was already spotless (the houseboy, Jose, was also illegal and had been thoroughly broken in), she had planned the whole scenario so that she could accuse him of sloppy work to provoke a reaction, which would then allow her to put on a demonstration of her power.
******
Later that day, Tim was in the pool when he saw Lucia come into the yard. She was now wearing cut off jeans that were so skimpy in back that they revealed half of her butt cheeks. On top she wore a tiny bikini halter. But it was what was in her hand that brought Tim up short. It was a six foot braided black whip.
Ignoring Tim entirely, Lucia strode to the far end of the pool and set up a row of plastic bottles on the diving board. She took up a position about eight feet away, uncurled the whip, brought it over her head and snapped it in front of her. The whip gave an earsplitting crack and unerringly struck the first bottle, sending it flying. She repeated the exercise with each of the remaining bottles, and then set them up again. For the next twenty minutes, Tim watched her practice her technique, amazed by her expert aim and ability to control the leather weapon. Deep in his gut, he shuddered, some part of him suddenly aware that she might actually be capable of using such a deadly instrument not just on plastic bottles – but on human flesh.
*****
The day after the whipping demonstration, Lucia knocked on Tim’s door. “What is it?” he inquired. “Come with me,” she said peremptorily.
Tim followed her into the TV room. She pointed at a plate on the coffee table. “Is that yours?” “Yeah …?” he responded, puzzled.
“I’ve noticed that you’re quite a slob. I won’t have you leaving a mess as long as I’m in charge of this house. You’ll clean up after yourself or there will be serious consequences!”
“I don’t understand,” he responded, still confused.
“Oh, so you think that just because we have a house staff that you don’t have to take responsibility for your mess. Well, you’ve got another think coming. I told you that I make the rules and one of the rules is that you’ll learn some discipline by cleaning up after yourself. Is that understood?
“OK, OK,” Tim responded in an annoyed tone. He was really getting tired of being bossed around by Lucia.
Mistake! Lucia placed two fingers under his chin and lifted his head so that he was looking her right in the eyes. Wearing her five-inch platform heels, she towered over him by several inches. “Is that an insolent tone in your voice, young man?” she demanded ominously.
Tim’s blood turned to ice. “N…n…no,” he muttered.
“Don’t try to contradict me! I know what I heard. Do you know what I do to boys who speak to me that way?” Tim was silent. “I asked you a question. Now answer me!” “No, I don’t know.”
“Well, I’ll tell you. I slap them across the face until they learn their manners. Do you remember how I slapped Manuel yesterday for talking back to me? That’s how hard I’ll slap you if you ever take the tone of voice with me again. Is that understood?”
Tim nodded unhappily. “And from now on, you’ll show your respect for me by calling me ma’am or Ms. Lucia. Got it?” Tim nodded again.
“I want to hear you say it”
“I..I get it,” said Tim miserably. “get what?” Tim stared at her blankly and then realized: “I get it, ma’am.”
“That’s more like it. Now clear your plate.”
Tim’s hand trembled as he picked up the plate and turned to go to the kitchen.
Her icy voice stopped him. “And one more thing: that rule about cleaning up applies to your room too.”
Several hours later, Tim heard some noise in the backyard while he was in the pool. It sounded like someone screaming in pain. He got out of the pool and tried to decide what to do when he saw Lucia coming from behind the tennis court. She was dressed in a tight leather mini-skirt and a tank top that barely covered her breasts.
“I’ve prepared a little demonstration of what’s going to happen to you if you don’t follow my instructions about cleaning up. I know that you watched me practicing yesterday with my whip and now you’re going to see the results. Follow me!”
Unable to stop himself, Tim followed Lucia’s tight ass into a clearing behind the tennis court. There he was astonished to see Pedro, the new gardener’s assistant, strung up on a rack, his feet spread-eagled and tied to the posts while his arms were stretched up high above his head. On a bench lay several instruments of torture, including the six-foot black snake whip, a long bamboo cane and a cat o’nine tails. But the most shocking part of the tableau was Pedro’s upper back, ass and the back of his thighs, which were a bright shade of red and covered with thin sausage-like welts, a few of which were bleeding.
“Pretty wicked, wouldn’t you say?” Lucia asked with a smile on her face. “That’s what happens to boys who don’t know how to obey. Do you want to watch me finish him off?”
Lucia picked up the long black whip, stretched it over her head, and snapped it across Pedro’s butt. He screamed loudly. Tim felt nauseous and tried desperately to keep his lunch down as Lucia laid on three or four more strokes. She looked at him to gauge his response and was pleased to see him green in the face. Then, she formed both of her hands into claws and dragged them down Pedro’s well-muscled back, leaving ten bloody tracks in their wake. Pedro moaned pathetically. The blood seeped down his back and over his flayed buttocks. Tim couldn’t believe his eyes. This was not going to be a scene he’d easily forget.
“OK. You can leave now. I’ve finished with him anyhow.”
The rest of the day found Tim completely disoriented. In addition to the almost unbearable eroticism of Lucia’s body, he now had to contend with the evidence of her sadism. The threat of punishment had become all-too-real in the scenes he had witnessed with Manuel and Pedro. He had heard about S and M sex, but it was something in magazines and on the internet. Now he found himself in close proximity to a vicious lady who seemed to have no compunctions about causing severe pain.
That evening, he went out to dinner with Peter and Lucia. As usual, she was dressed to kill in tight jeans and an off-the-shoulder tight white leotard top that barely concealed the shape of her large breasts. She acted as if nothing had happened during the day, although she basically ignored Tim during the meal. He felt extremely uncomfortable in her presence and his discomfort wasn’t helped by the steel-hard erection that he couldn’t get rid of in his pants. That night, as he beat his meat, he couldn’t erase from his mind the images of Lucia wielding her whip.
*****
The next morning she was ready to go in for the kill. For a week she had cockteased Tim and exposed him to graphic scenes of sadism. His mind had to be in complete turmoil. She knew from watching him in his room that he was in a constant state of sexual excitement and she figured that almost anything she did to him would cause him to lose control.
After her morning workout, she asked Tim to come out to the pool to apply lotion to her back. He was already totally aroused from watching her up close apply it to her flat belly and breasts. Lucia, of course, immediately noted his erection, but said nothing. She turned over on her stomach and undid the cords of her tiny bikini top. Tim sat gingerly on the edge of the chair and squirted some lotion out of the tube. His hands trembled as he touched her flesh for the first time. It was as if an electric shock went through him from the feel of her smooth, tanned skin. “Rub it in more,” she demanded. “Don’t be so bashful.” “Further down,” she said as Tim reached her lower back.
Shaking, he touched her ass. It was more than he could take after having his cock teased for a whole week and he came violently in his trunks. Even though he had been beating off several times a day, he still produced a huge quantity of sperm.
“Why are you stopping?” Lucia demanded, knowing full well, even without looking, what had happened. “I…I…I’m sorry,” he stammered. She turned over and, since she had untied her bikini top, her magnificent breasts, jutting aggressively, stared him straight in the eye. He was transfixed, like a deer caught in headlights.
“What the hell is that?” she demanded, pointing at the wet patch spreading on the front of his trunks, even though, of course, she knew exactly what it was. “It…it…it…it was an accident,” Tim gasped. “Don’t try to fool me! Who gave you permission to play with yourself while you were touching me?” “But I didn’t,” protested Tim, almost in tears now with the humiliation of it.
Tim didn’t even see Lucia’s hand swing back and then forwarded until the slap nearly knocked him over. Before he had a chance to recover, a backhanded slap caught him on the other cheek. Lucia got to her feet, towering over him in her stiletto heels, grabbed him by the hair and pulled him upright. Then, still holding his hair, she administered two more stinging slaps with deadly accuracy to both of his cheeks. His face screaming with pain, Tim saw stars as his eyes filled with tears and his ears rang with bells. He gave a desperate sob.
“You little pervert! Take off those trunks this minute!” she commanded. No longer able to think clearly, Tim pulled the trunks down. “All the way off!” she rasped at him. “Now hand them to me.” Tim handed the trunks to Lucia with one hand while he tried to cover his still stiff penis with the other. She took the trunks by the waist, turned them upside down and in a swift motion pulled them over Tim’s head so that the wet patch was positioned over his nose and mouth. Then, holding them firmly in place with her left hand, she used her right hand to mash the giant gob of jism on the inside of the trunks all over Tim’s face.
“No, please stop!” he cried, more humiliated than he had ever been in his life.
“Not until you learn to behave decently. I warned you that there would be consequences for playing with yourself! Now get down on your knees!” Not content to wait for Tim to comply, Lucia followed up her order with a sharp jab of her heel into Tim’s instep. He went down with a howl. Lucia stepped behind him and gave him a brutal kick in the anus. He shrieked as an arrow of pain shot through his gut and fell forward flat on his face.
“Now don’t move or I’ll kick you in the ass again,” she threatened. She picked up a three foot belt and doubled it over. “Get up on all fours,” she ordered. By now completely terrified, he did as commanded.
“I’m going to punish you now for your disgusting, perverted behavior,” she said. “I’m sentencing you to twenty-four strokes with my belt. You’re going to count each stroke and if you miss one, I’ll repeat it. So, if you want to have any of that flesh on your ass left by the time I’m done, you’d better keep count.”
The first stroke cracked loudly on his right cheek, the first layer of leather followed almost instantaneously by the second. It left a broad, rectangular mark of flaming red skin. Tim howled with pain. Lucia followed up the first with a backstroke on his left cheek, again leaving a flaming mark and again eliciting a howl of pain. Needless to say, Tim had forgotten to count. After the third stroke, again on the right cheek, Lucia inquired: “How many was that?” Tim searched his terrified brain and answered: “Three??” “Wrong,” she replied gleefully, “that’s one – you didn’t count the first two, so I get to repeat them.” Tim sobbed pitifully, “Please don’t.”
But Lucia was determined to get her pound of flesh. She had been waiting for this moment for a week. She applied the strokes with remorseless cruelty, raising her arm up high and bringing the belt down with all of her considerable strength and consummate skill. She knew exactly how to crack the leather for maximum effect. After she had meted out twelve strokes, six on each cheek, she laid on the second twelve on top of the first. This exponentially increased the pain that Tim was forced to absorb. He continued to miss counting the strokes, so that by the time she had finished, he had earned an extra ten. Several times, he bolted forward or his knees collapsed from the pain. Lucia pitilessly ordered him back up on his hands and knees, threatening that if he didn’t, she would double his punishment.
From the window, Tom and Manuel watched in horror. Both had been victims of Lucia’s wrath but they had never seen such a cold blooded beating. Lucia was aware that they were watching, but she didn’t care. The whole point was to enforce her dominance and any demonstration of it would only serve that purpose. She knew that there was no danger that they would inform Peter. In any case, she planned to reveal her domination of Tim to Peter when the time was right.
When she finished the whipping, Tim was in terrible shape. He had collapsed on the patio, crying uncontrollably. His buttocks were a mottled red and purple and looked like they were on fire. His head was still encased in his trunks. Lucia pulled them off to reveal his face coated in sticky, white cum.
“Go clean yourself off and stop your blubbering,” she said to him without the slightest trace of compassion. “You’d think I’d just flogged you with a real whip instead of only a simple belt.”
Tim rose unsteadily to his feet and Lucia threw the soggy trunks at him. “Get this disgusting rag out of my sight. I don’t want any sign of your pathetic lack of self-control left out here.” Tim disappeared into the house.
As typically happened whenever she indulged her sadistic impulses, Lucia was more than a little turned on. She picked up her cell phone and rang Tom’s extension. “Get out to the pool right now. I need your services!” By the time Tom reached the pool, Lucia had removed her bikini thong and had begun to excite her clit.
“Strip and fuck me!” she ordered peremptorily. Tom did as ordered with Lucia cumming violently three times before she dismissed him, cock and tongue exhausted. “By the way,” she said before he left, “I know you were watching me whip the boy. You’d better not discuss that with anybody or you’ll end up in the same condition!”
For the next three days, Tim was in agony. For the first 24 hours, he couldn’t even sit down and for two days after, his ass continued to burn. But it was his mind that was in the worst shape. He was in shock from what Lucia had done to him, but the strange thing was that he was even more sexually excited. It seemed like his cock wouldn’t go down. Within minutes of masturbating, it was erect again. He walked around with aching blue balls that matched his aching ass.
For her part, Lucia ignored him. She wanted the effect of the whipping to sink in before she made her next move. In any case, she had a special task to accomplish, one that she had been looking forward to for a long while.
|
|
|