The Locket Part Two
Crowell pulled into the driveway, and felt for the little glass box holding the locket in his shirt pocket. The whole thing made him nervous, really.
"Just remember" Soapy cautioned, "Don't hold the locket itself outside the box for more than a few seconds, it can fuck with your head, sorta...hand it to your girlfriend, and let her put it on...
"But my girlfriend is--I don't want her to be submissive, like that Celeste chick." protested Crowell..."I want a dominant girl--"
Soapy smiled, and put his hand up. "Don't worry. The locket knows what it's supposed to do...I don't believe in the supernatural, but it's quite an unusual little pendant...
...And make SURE you want her to wear it before you give it to her...everything changes. Bring it back next week, and then you can pay the rental fee."
A thousand dollars seemed really steep, but Soapy assured Crow that he'd be able to come up with the money and pay it, without any trouble.
"The Little Shop has been renting the locket out now for over a hundred years, if you can believe it...I've been here for thirteen years and people always come up with the money and pay the fee, happily."
So Crowell now had the locket in its glass case. He had noticed that Soapy handled it with tweezers, so he didn't want to do the wrong thing and touch it too much...but he was curious.
And concerned. Ever since he'd met Ambrosia Itkowitz at a wedding the previous year, he'd known she was the one--beautiful, sensuous, loyal, with a sense of humor...he didn't want to lose her by doing the wrong thing...
Idly, Crowell opened the little glass case to the locket and looked at the pewter holder shaped like a heart. Crow gently opened the hinge of the locket, to see a picture...
My God, it couldn't be! But it was! It was a photograph of Crowell's old governess, Miss Piedmont! How did that get in there? Had Miss Piedmont owned this locket?
Crow would have been even more astonished had he known that when Orvard had opened the locket he'd seen a photograph of one of the cheerleaders who used to torment him in high school, Peggy Shelton...
Except in the pic, Peggy was bound and naked, with welts on her buttocks! Celeste's perception of the picture (for they were only perceptions, you can guess by now) had been her Daddy, fierce and stern, holding his elephant's tusk hairbrush!
Crow snapped the locket shut and closed the glass box, remembering...
Crowell's parents had been Foreign Service workers and abroad much of the time, and had left their son's education to the strict Miss Piedmont, a voluptous British nanny who had not believed in sparing the rod.
Miss P. had educated Crow and his five sisters at home, and not allowed him much interaction with the "ragamuffins and street urchins" outside of his family garden.
Their biggest battles had been over Crowell's masturbation, which Miss Piedmont had declared an abomination.
Crowell remembered one of Miss Piedmont's more severe punishments after she'd found his semen-stained copy of "Hustler"...
Miss Piedmont had stripped the seventeen year old Crowell naked put make-up and lipstick on him, and dressed him in a garter belt and panties--shocking pink, as well as long stockings and made him parade up and down the living room in front of his giggling sisters.
Cynthia, Karina, Carli, Cherri, and Charlene had found this quite amusing.
Miss Piedmont, glorious in her snug black dress with the plunging neckline had urged poor Crowell to mince across the living room...her walking stick thwacking him on his pantied bottom.
"Take your panties down now, Crowell." Miss Piedmont had ordered...
"N-no please not that." Crowell begged, tears streaming down his cheeks, smearing his mascara and light blue eyeshadow.
It was bad enough to be in full eye shadow, blusher and lipstick and women's undergarments in front of his giggling sisters, who were of course fully clothed...but to pull down his panties?
Cynthia chuckled. "You are such a douchebag sissy, Crowell...and you look like such a moron!"
WHACK! Miss Piedmont's walking stick crashed against Crowell's narrow buttocks.
He teetered on the high heels, and Cherri slapped her miniskirted knee. "C'mon, Crow, show us some skin, boy!" All the sisters giggled.
Karina, who had assisted Miss P in painting Crowell's fingernails a shiny purple, clapped her hands eagerly. This was more fun than watching "The O.C."
"That's right, Crowell." Miss Piedmont said between her teeth as she raised her walking stick for another crack. "Since you insist on bathing in the sea of onanism, why don't you show your sisters how well you do it!"
"P-please, Miss Piedmont!" Crowell had begged. "I'll never touch myself again!" But he felt his cock bulging involuntarily against the soft panties.
"Oh no, Crowell dearest." Miss Piedmont said soothingly. "You can't stop yourself, apparently. You steal money from my purse and sneak over the garden wall to purchase filthy periodicals and abuse yourself...you have no interest in desisting. NOW TAKE DOWN YOUR PANTIES!"
Karina shook her fists over her head and jiggled her huge breasts. "Pull them down, Crow, you little faggot!"
All five sisters began chanting "Pull 'em down, pull 'em down!"
Crow was so horribly humiliated!
Miss Piedmont slashed Crowell's back, and finally, the miserable boy leaned over and pulled his panties down to his knees, his hard cock framed by the garter belt and stockings.
"What...you are erect...excited by this punishment?" Miss Piedmont was horrified.
She tapped the tip of Crowell's penis a little harshly, and he winced, but it stayed quite erect.
"Perhaps we'll invite some of the little thugs in the neighborhood over, the ones who keep forcing their affections on your sisters, to see what a deviate their neighbor is!"
Crowell had grown cold at this--the idea that the leather jacketed creeps playing stickball in the street, the ones who threw beer cans at him when he walked by on his way to his flute lesson...what would they do to him dressed like this?
WHACK! Miss Piedmont's walking stick had landed harshly on Crow's glans, and he finally went limp. The girls giggled even more.
Miss Piedmont had not succeeded in getting young Crowell to stop pounding his pud...but she'd given him a lot to think about.
Twenty years later, Crow shivered in recollection of his old nurse. Now sitting in the car, he opened the locket once more to look at Miss Piedmont....
But the photograph had changed! Now it was a picture of Ambrosia...wearing the same V-necked plunging black dress Miss Piedmont favored...and holding the walking stick.
Crowell shivered, and shut the locket, and shut the glass box. It was time to go inside and get things over with.
