Bully Training Frankie and Roy Frankie was surprised when Roy came home and
said he'd seen Chisel, the schoolyard bully who had created such havoc in his
life as a kid back in Philadelphia. "It's amazing, Frankie" Roy was
saying as they had dinner. "Chisel's changed so much, he's a Buddhist
now, and a probation officer as well." Frankie cocked her head, and a
blonde curl fell into her cleavage, and Roy took an intake of breath...every
time he saw her, even after seven years of marriage, seemed like the first. "Really?
The guy who used to bully you? I would have thought he'd be on other side of
the law. Didn't you tell me he used to take your lunch money and vandalize
your car?"
Roy nodded. Roy had been shocked when he'd ran into Chisel, walking
through DC Superior Court with his fellow prosecutors, seeing the familiar
big squarish head and beetlebrows of Ernesto "Chisel" Fantucci. Ken,
Roy's second chair for the O'Malley trial, had turned to him and said "Roy,
you're white as a sheet!" and Roy himself had felt the familiar dampness
in his hsorts, aaugh, he'd peed his pants just like he'd done in the old days
whenever Chisel had grabbed Roy by the shirt and slammed him against a wall,
before dragging the honor student into the locker room. But fortunately, today
Roy had been wearing dark pants and the urine stain hadn't shown and Chisel
had recognized him at the same time and come up and shaken Roy's hand- -and
apologized!
"Dear, you were saying? The guy's not a criminal anymore? " FRankie
asked. He looks so white when talking about this guy, she thought. "Well,
Chisel went into the Marines after high school, and then got some therapy somewhere,
and went to school, and now he's just a regular guy.
It's amazing. From seventh grade on he used to beat me up and take my
lunch money, and other things happened as well." Roy blushed and looked
at his plate, and Frankie, an observant wife, looed past the table where Roy
was shuffling his legs in that adoably geeky way, and thought she spotted an
erection. But it couldn't be. Frankie knew her husband had some kinks,but didn't
think he was a fag. Frankie reached over and stroked Roy's crimson cheeks.
Frankie wondered whether Chisel had molested Roy, though it seemed silly,
since they were supposedly the same age. But Roy was like a child at times.
She wondered whether whatever happened had happened in a locker room, as Roy
always changed his clothes at home or even in the car rather than change in
the locker room of their country club, or in a changing room at any hotel.
Anywhere where there were other men, it seemed. When changing in a locker room
was unavoidable, Roy seemed to go into hyperventilation before he entered the
locker room door.
Roy was finishing his dinner, but his mind was awhirl--he couldn't get
the old demons to go away. Seeing Chisel, however nice the man was now, was
plaguing him. The image stayed. "C'mon you little homo!" Chisel would
drag Roy into the locker room, bitch slapping the chubby National Merit Scholar,
forcing Roy on his chubby knees and unzipping. Then Roy, tears coursing down
his cheeks would reluctantly open his mouth and Roy would slam his penis home
ramming it in and out of Roy's full lips. "Now don't bite down, or I'll
knock your teeth out, Roy. Then I'll know next time I'll get a smooth, gummy
blowjob."
One horrible day Chisel had actually gotten Roy to suck off the entire
wrestling team, and this had sadly gotten around the school. Roy had been unable
to get a date for his Senior Prom. Today, of course Roy had to remind himself,
things were different. Elroy Myers, titular head of DC's Corporation Counsel,
had had a coffee with Ernesto "Chisel" Fantucci, a lowly probation
officer, and Chisel had said respectfully. "Mr. Myers, you are a great
guy, and I'm so sorry I behaved that way back then." Roy had thought of
telling Chisel that he could call Roy by his first name,but rather enjoyed
the way "Mr. Myers" sounded in his old enemy's mouth. "If there's
anything I can do, Mr. Myers, please tell me." Roy of courese had been
quite gracious and realized that now he, Roy was in much more of a power position.
Those old days were over forever!
"Darling, don't you think about whatever it is that happened." Frankie
said to Roy tenderly. "It's over now and you and that awful man can be
friendly, or you can just avoid him. But you're an adult, and a very important
one." Frankie stroked Roy's hair and tugged her sweater down a bit, further
emphasizing her full cleavage, and Roy smiled, as she knew he would. Roy prized
Frankie over anything else in the world, it seemed. He smiled at Frankie worshipfully. "Tell
you what, why don't we play one of our little games tonight."" Frankie
said with adventurous eyes. Roy smiled widely. "Yes Miss Francesca."
Frankie's voice grew steely. "Then I want you to clean up this
table, the dining room and the entire kitchen, spotlessly, and I'll be in to
check in twenty minutes."Frankie slapped Roy lightly on the face and he
looked at his plate ashamedly. "Twenty minutes, Elroy. And when I come
to inspect, I want you naked and kneeling on the kitchen floor, with EVERYTHING
SPOTLESS, as I said in twenty minutes."
Roy arose hurriedly and undressed, folding his clothes neatly on one
of the dining room chairs. As he cleared up the dining room, Roy thought gratefully
of how wonderful Frankie had been in understanding his fantasies. They'd started
out during the engagement with Frankie giving Roy an occasional bare-bottom
hairbrush spanking. Roy could recall Frankie, who he had met as a young stripper
being prosecuted for cocaine possession, walking into Roy's living room, her
40DD chest heaving in a snug sweater, ordering Roy to take down his pants.
Roy could still feel his naked penis itching as it was pressed against
Frankie's scratchy tweed miniskirt as she slammed Mummy's old elephant-tusk
hairbrush against his bare bottom, as Roy's legs tangled miserably in his bunched
up trousers. Frankie's boobs would press against Roy's back as the hairbrush
fell again and again against Roy's miserably scarlet buttocks as hard or harder
than Mummy had ever whipped him with the same brush!
Frankie laughed as she went to her bedroom to change into the black
satin bra and panty set that always drove Roy so wild. My God,sometimes she
thought he was hotter for her in that outfit than when she was naked! Not that
she was naked around Elroy that much these days. As Frankie attached the clasps
together that connected her bra cups from the front, she breathed impetuously
in the mirror, and watched her cleavage shake and bounce in the tiny black
cups. Yes he'd like this. And was Roy in for quite a night!
Roy of course thougth that "spotless" just meant that he was
to clear the table and wash the dinner things,but he had another think coming.
Spotless was as Miss Francesca defined it. And of course Roy would whine when
Frankie began punishing him for the shoddy work he'd done-- Roy whined easily,
and in a way she couldn't blame that guy Chisel for bullying Roy a little bit.
Frankie could imagine what a wuss Roy was in high school, as even now
Roy was such a nerd, he had his stamp collection and enjoyed things like putting
together jigsaw puzzles, unlike the chopper cycle building losers that Frankie
had grown up around. Yes, Roy was a bit of a whiner, but he'd given Frankie
such a new life, helped her give up drugs and the stripping/prostitution lifestyle
she'd been so accustomed to. She should have more patience with her wimp, really.
Well, Frankie could take out some of her annoyance on Roy tonight. After she'd
adjusted her lingerie, Frankie pulled fishnet stockings on, applied eyeliner
and bright red lip gloss, and painted her nails the color of blood. What fun
tonight would be!
Roy began washingt dishes in the kitchena fter having carefully wiped
downt he dining room and put up the chairs. Frankie had really begun to enjoy
the games more and more in their first year of marriage, after learning that
Roy, the slave-boy would do as much housework as needed. The first eighteen
months of marriage, it had been a normal sex life, with occasional bondage
evenings, that Roy really looked forward to. He would be chased around the
house naked in an apron with a feather duster, and Frankie menacing him from
behind...by their fourth year of marriage, Frankie and Roy had escalated to
an entire weekend of mistress/slave activity, with Roy tucking Frankie in bed
in the evenings and then going down to sleep on the basement floor.
Now, they occasionally played during the week, and Frankie's punishment
implements had advanced way beyond hairbrushes and willow switches. "Is
this a game or not, Roy?" Frankie had asked the week before as Roy sniveled
that Miss Francesca had gone a little far and too hard on his buttocks with
her cat o' nine tails. Frankie had locked him in the closet that night and
made loud moaning noises, playing with her vibrator. "I don't let crybabies
lick my pussy, Elroy!"
Roy had wept miserably, crouching naked under Frankie's fur coats in
the boxy, hot little wardrobe. Now Roy scrubbed all the pans as cleanly as
he could, and made sure everything was looking pristine. He knew better than
to use the $15,000 dishwasher he'd bought Frankie for her birthday; during
punishment sessions, slave Elroy had to wash everything himself. She'd taught
him this by turning the dishwasher on and sticking Roy's head in it.
Frankie took nearly forty minutes adjusting her makeup and putting up
her hair but she still knew Roy wuoldn't have been done cleaning.
Stepping into her high heels, FRankie picked up her bamboo cane and
her Spencer paddle with all the lovely little holes in it, and went to check
on her husband in the kitchen. She came upon Roy frantically wiping up the
counter, stark naked, of course and when Roy saw Frankie, he immediatley threw
down teh rag and dropped to his knees in front of her, staring at the floor. "Why
weren't you kneeling here already?" Frankie looked at her watch and thwacked
Roy's shoulders and back with the bamboo cane. THWACK! THWACK! The cane bent
slapping on Roy's back and welts arose against Roy's pale, flabby skin.
"It's been forty fucking minutes you little faggot, I expected
you to have this kitchen ship shape in about seventeen minutes. Stick up your
butt and put your face on the floor." Roy stuck his rear in the air and
pushed his face in the floor. Biting his lip, Roy awaited the onslought. Now,
Frankie let loose with the Spencer paddle. WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK. Frankie
loved the way the air saled through the holes in the paddle as it landed on
Roy's bright red buttocks.
Roy bit his wrist to keep from screaming, he knew that his sobbing would
enrage Miss Francesca. The wooden Spencer paddle was certainly painful,but
he had to learn to take it better. It was amazing, as titular head of DC's
Corporation Counsel, Roy enjoyed the respect and fear that he tended to bring
up in clients and defense attorneys, but he'd remembered the day he'd see jn
that tousled blond girl in that drug trial. Roy hadn't prosecuted this one,
he had just shown up to watch one of his former law school students handle
the case.
The judge, who had worked with Roy in the past, had also greeted him
with respect, and it had been quite a day, except that the defendant, this
tousle haired druggie stripper, had smirked at Roy. She'd giggled at him in
the defense box and stuck out her tongue. Later, after Frankie had been acquitted
and Roy was taking her to dinner, she'd told him that she'd once been a Phd
candidate for an art history degree,but had gone down the more "interesting" path
instead. Now she was his respectable housewife, but also his Goddess WHACK!
The Spencer landed one more time on Roy's savaged buttocks, and a tear rolled
down his cheek. Not so much the tough prosecutor now!
"Hmm." FRankie looked about her and the counters were indeed
glimmering, the burners on the stove had been wiped out and the dishes, pots
and pans were all neatly stacked up. Frankie noticed out of the corner of her
eye that Roy was stealing looks at her and that his cock was hardening nicely. "Let's
see how these cabinets look-I hope there's not a speck of dust in them. Roy
looked alarmed. "Miss Francesca, I just cleaned up the dinner mess ma'am,
you didn't specify the cabinets--" WHACK WHACK! The Spencer landed again
and Roy howled. "Spotless is what I said, Elroy."
Roy watched Frankie's gorgeous buttocks undulate as she goit up on tippie
toe to investigate the shelves. God, she was such a tease. Frankie knew Roy
was a sucker for her gorgeous body and she was always dressed in ithgt sweaters
or crop-tops, even at thirty-four years old. And she loved to tease Roy, and
often would tie him spreadeagled to the bed and perch between his legs, her
gorgeous body clad in French underwear, and she'd play her fingers around Ray's
tortured, bulging erection for two or three hours, rubbing quickly and then
pulling her fingers away as soon as it looked as if he might be about to orgasm.
In the beginning days of these teases, Frankie would finish off by giving
Roy a mind-bending blowjob or mounting his penis so he could fuck her to orgasm,
but lately she'd made Roy jerk off in front of her after the long tease, pumping
his poor cock while she sat in a chair, long legs folded, and still in the
French underwear, ingorning him to read "Mirabella" magazine. Of
course when Roy serviced Frankie, he would spend hours and hours licking between
her legs, giving her countless orgasms.
How pitiful he looks, Frankie thought, staring at her nude, weeping
husband. Such a pathetic crybaby. Frankie felt like picking up the cane and
giving it to Roy again,but she focused in finding fault in the kitchen instead.
Frankie opened the cabinets, chuckling to herself. Had these cabinets been
touched since she'd done her spring cleaning last year? At the time Frankie
had had Roy help, naked in an apron, cleaning hurriedly as Frankie corrected
any mistakes with a few whacks from her scourge, landing it right on his cheeks
hwenever he slowed down,but there had been little cleaning since then, as Roy
had been so caught up prosecuting these drug trials, and Frankie had her internship
at the gallery.
She put her finger in a cabinet, moving it around and then pulled it
out, leaning down so Roy could see her bulging cleavage, compressed in the
bra top. Frankie put her very dusty finger under Roy's nose. Crouched on the
floor, he looked quite mournful. Roy shuddered, seeing Frankie's long nail
covered with the dust. Of course he hadn't known she wanted the entire kitchen
spotless, including all the cabinets... But she would have found a way to punish
him if it had been all gleaming as well! Frankie had once tossed an ashtray
on the floor after inspecting a freshly vaccumed rug during one of Roy's house
cleanings, just so she could punish him for it.
"Does this finger seem clean to you, dear?" Frankie was
disgusted. "Ass up again, please." Roy protested "Miss Francesca,
I didn't have time I--" "PUT YOUR ASS UP BEFORE I GO GET THE CAT!" Roy
put his rear end in the air to receive ten more blistering whacks from the
Spencer paddle, followed by five with the bamboo. As Roy sobbed quietly, Frankie
ignored him and opened the refrigerator door, looking into it, while she hummed. "Goodness
this refrigerator hasn't been cleaned out in ages." Frankie looked down
to the floor where her husband knelt naked and prone. "Did this floor
get washed and waxed? I don't think so." Roy's shoulders began shaking
and his lower lip trembled "I-I couldn't do it all in twenty minutes,
Frankie." WHACK. The bamboo cane lashed Roy's left cheek, and he began
blubbering. Frankie was adamant as she spoke. "I am Miss Francesca to
you, Elroy, you pitiful worm." Chisel Comes to Dinner
"You're the best, man.." said Deon gratefully. "I have
had so many P.O's who would have sent me back to jail for this." Ernesto "Chisel" Fantucci
crumpled up the report that showed Deon Williams as having tested positive
for marijuana use and tossed it in the public wastebasket. "Never mind
smoking the occasional joint, Deon. I'm just glad you're holding a job and
working things out with your old lady. Call me if there are any problems." The
two men separated in the parking lot of the DC Superior Court, and Chisel mounted
his Harley cycle, to drive to a dinner engagement he was not looking forward
to at all.
Elroy Myers, probably the most powerful man in the DC Superior Court
had asked Chisel Fantucci to dinner with him and his wife, and it was uncomfortable
because Fantucci had bullied and sexually assaulted Myers when they were both
high school students. What could he say? Fantucci's drunken father had beaten
his older brothers, the brothers had taken it out on young Chisel, and Chisel
had vented his wrath on the neighborhood kids, particularly Roy, who seemed
to bring it out in him.
It had been so crazy, Roy would see Chisel, who he knew would kick the
crap out of him if riled, and then he'd say something like " So why don't
you sell a strand of that pompadour to OPEC?" and Chisel would go for
him. Fantucci often had the feeling that Roy went looking for Chisel, as he
often ran into Roy in his slum neighborhood, when Roy lived in the fancy Chevy
Chase area...Once, during the summer, Roy had actually come to the public park
where he knew Chisel and his gang hung out. "Hey, you guys having a circle
jerk out here?" Roy had asked cheerily, walking by Chisel, Iggy and Mumbles,
who were peacefully sharing a bottle of ripple.
Then Roy had followed this little gem up with "I saw your sister
standing on the corner, Mumbles...it's where she belongs, right?" Chisel
had thrown the bottle down and grabbed Roy by the shoulders. As Iggy and Mumbles
had come up to assault him, Chisel had said, enraged, "No, we don't want
any marks on this bastard's face. Go cut me a couple of switches, Iggy." Chisel
had thrown the screaming Roy over a picnic bench and pulled down his pants
and underwear, and he and Mumbles and Iggy had taken turns lashing Roy with
willow switches from a nearby tree.
WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK After Roy's bare buttocks were covered with
purple and red welts, Chisel and his friends had taken turns cornholing Roy,
before taking Roy's pants and underwear and throwing them in a tree. Then as
they were walking off, Roy called one of them a name, and the three had chased
him once again, this time whipping Roy's bare ass again in front of Mumble's
sister and her friends. Were these assaults all Chisel's fault? Yeah, pretty
much whatever Roy's provocation, Chisel should have left him alone.
Pulling up to Myers' house, Fantucci was amazed at the size. These people
were rich. Good God, look at Roy's Beemer. And why were they inviting him to
dinner? It was great that Roy Myers was a forgiving man. As head of DC Corporation
Counsel, he could have given Fantucci all kinds of hell at his job. But why
have dinner together? Certainly the trauma couldn't be gone. And what else
did they have in common? Myers was Harvard Law School, and Chisel Fantucci
had barely squeaked through the criminal justice major at Slippery Rock State
Teacher's College. "But my wife really wants to meet you." Roy had
said. So Fantucci came. Perhaps it was an amends of sorts.
When Fantucci knocked on the Myers door, he wasn't sure what to expect. "Hello!" Jesus
what a gorgeous blonde with huge tits in a little flowered dress. "Mrs.
Myers? I'm Ernesto Fantucci." She gave him a warm smile. "No formalities
here. My name's Francesca--Frankie to my friends." Frankie gave Chisel
a brief hug, and he could feel her full breasts pushing against him, and she
pecked him on the cheek. "You're Chisel, right?" Fantucci smiled
ruefully. "Well no one's called me that since high school, the angry young
man phase is over now." Frankie hugged Chisel again and whispered in his
ear "You don't mind if I call you Chisel, do you?" Chisel felt his
dick pressing against her hip. Shit, why argue? "No, that's fine, um,
Frankie."
Roy got up from his Wall Street Journal to greet Chisel as warmly as
possible. Why had Frankie wanted to invite this psychopath? He couldn't have
changed that much. But she'd insisted. "I just wnat to see what the guy's
like. I'm amazed that he's gone through this kind of a transformation, and
he certainly (cough) had an affect on your life. You don't mind, do you honey?
Just for your Miss Francesca."
Frankie had asked Roy this while Roy was bound on his back to a hassock,
and Frankie's leather heel was poking in his sweltering cock. First she poked
it, with the left foot covered in the sharp heel, and then stroked the frenum
tenderly with her right foot, where the toes pulled and pinched the tip of
Roy's cock until he was gasping. Frankie had been sitting on the couch, her
denim miniskirt lifted slightly to show no pantiews as her long legs had moved
around her prisoner's crotch.
"I was thinking of giving you some sexual release, darling, I'll
unlock your new chastity belt and maybe you can screw me, but would you mind
if Chisel came to dinner?" Again the toes played with the head of Roy's
poor penis, the expensive pedicure scraping his foreskin unmercifully while
the right shoe gently, or perhaps not so gently, poked the full testicle sack
until Roy, close to tears, finally said yes.
Roy was kind under Frankie's thumb these days. In the early years of
their marriage, Roy had been quite pleased that Frankie was willing to accommodate
him in his fantasies of being her slave...and they'd gone from having a normal
sex life, with occasional spices of S/M to having it be that a good seventy
percent of their sexual play involved Frankie in her role as Miss Francesca.
During these sexual games, Roy was not allowed to screw Frankie, he
only could perform oral sex on her, and then, if he was a good boy, could masturbate
in the nude in front of his fully clothed, smirking wife. Roy wasn't sure when
it had quite happened, but in recent months, Frankie had almost completely
stopped having regular sex with him even when they weren't playing their special
games.
Frankie had become less and less interested in regular sex. Forget blowjobs
completely--that hadn't happened for poor Elroy in nearly three years now--but
Frankie even made Roy go through incredible hoops to screw her-- he'd have
to buy her jewelry, mow the yard, put new tires on her car. and then at some
point, Miss Francesca took these favors for granted, and Roy's sex life it
seemed, completely had dried up, though he'd kept trying.
Many nights Roy would climb in bed with his wife, and turn to her, hoping
for a nice screw, and Frankie would force his head down between her legs, where
Roy would lick Frankie to numerous orgasms. After she grew tired of this, he
would attempt to kiss Frankie hoping for some amour of his own,but she would
turn away from his pussy- laden breath and go to sleep. Roy had been forced
to ease his sexual tension through masturbation, often in the stalls at work,
because Frankie didn't approve of Roy jerking off whenever he felt like it,
whether or not she was giving him "any"
But Roy had also had chastity fantasies, and had begged Frankie repeatedly
to order him a chastity belt, and the previous Wednesday had been Roy's fortieth
birthday, and Frankie had brought out the box! Locking the belt on, Frankie
had smiled widely. In the past seven days, Frankie had had Roy lick her to
orgasm night after night, and Roy had had no relief at all. Several times Frankie
had removed the belt when Roy's hands were tied, and spent several hours manipulating
her hands or feet around his cock, but she'd not allowed him to orgasm even
once. Whenever he'd brought it up. "Please oh please just lend me the
key, honey, you don't have to screw me or blow me..oh please." Frankie
had just laughed until she'd hinted he might get some action after Chisel was
invited to dinner.
Now, Roy shook hands with his former tormentor as Frankie put her arms
around both their shoulders. " I am so glad you and Chisel can reunite." Both
men looked at Frankie as if she was insane, or was she being sarcastic? They
shook hands awkwardly, and Roy asked Chisel if he'd like a drink. "Gin
and water please." Chisel responded, and they sat down.
Frankie stared at Chisel as he drank his gin. What a man! Jesus. It
had been some time since she'd been around biceps like that. Roy was a very
loving man and quite an intellect,but he was chubby and not terribly macho.
Certainly not athletic. Chisel looked as if he went to the gym every day, and
those deep brown eyes... It was interesting, Chisel didn't seem gay either.
Roy wasn't gay and Chisel probably wasn't, and yet...
Frankie had finally gotten the whole story out of Roy- apparently Chisel
used to really sexually assault poor little Elroy back at school. Chisel had
forced Roy to fellate him, as well as taking it from behind. This cleared things
up for Frankie, who had been utterly mystified by her husband's fantasies.
The whole bondage-and-whipping stuff had been not entirely strange to
Frankie, who had performed in this role for previous boyfriends and clients...she
had that regal blonde look that made men want to cringe and submit, she guessed.
But it had been Roy that had shown Frankie her first strap-on.
It had just started with a tiny six inch vibrator that Frankie would
poke around the edge of Roy's behind in their first year of marriage, gradually
moving up to a ten inch dildo. "C'mon, butt-boy, take that big thing in,
you know you want it." Frankie would snarl, as her husband would gulp
and bend over. It had been nearly three years before FRankie had been able
to completely impale her husband's backside with a dildo, and even longer before
she began fucking him in and out with it...he'd cry and shriek,but she'd never
seen his cock harder!
But things had radically progressed. FRankie now had a huge two foot
coal black monster, nearly as wide as a Louisville Slugger. It was a usual
staple in their play, and now quite relentlessly used after FRankie had heard
of Chisel's shenanigans with poor Roy. She thought of a few nights before when
things had gone a bit overboard.
Roy, his hands cuffed behind his head, had been bent naked ove a straight
chair in the bedroom, as Frankie had lay on the last of thirty-five strokes
with the bamboo cane. WHACK WHACK WHACK! Roy had sobbed, gritting his teeth
and Frankie had trhown the cane down, looking disdainfully at her slaveboys
blistered tushie. "You make me sick, the big, brave prosecutor, jailing
pitiful minorities for a bag of weed but he can't take a few licks with a little
stick."
Frankie had then kicked Roy violently in the ass with her steel tipped
boot, bursthing one of his biggest calluses left by the bamboo. Roy had howled
and burst into further tears as Miss Francesca had laughed, sauntering to the
closet. She'd been dressed ina alce up black Merry Widow, her blond hair tied
high, and her heels had been the longest, nearly seven inches.
Frankie's large boobs had bounced merrily in the cups of the Merry Widow,
and Roy had turned his tear stained face up to ogle them as she'd pulled out
the familiar box holding the dildo. SLAP! Frankie's hand left a bright red
mark on Roy's left cheek. "How dare you stare at my breasts." Frankie
said coldly, and Roy had returned his look miserably to the floor.
"Oh, just look at them for a minute then." Frankie's voice
had grown oily smooth, as Roy had held up his head,staring at her beautiful
mammaries. Frankie lifted one out of the Merry Widow corset and showed it to
him. "You'd love to kiss this nice red nipple, wouldn't you, Elroy? But
it's not for you...My tits are for a real man."
Frankie bunched her breasts together and jiggled them before Roy's eyes. "Not
for a wimpie boy, I'm afraid." And it was true. Roy had loved slobbering
all over Frankie's huge, well shaped breasts from their third date, and she'd
accommodated his lust by wearing tight t- shirts and tube tops, unhear d of
for a woman in her thirties. But gradually she'd allowed Roy less and less
access to her beautiful breasts, making him buy her a bracelet or take her
to a play, just for twenty minutes of titty sucking.
Roy had finally gotten so desperate recently, that Frankie, wanting
him to learn to drink her urine, had dipped her brassiere into a bucket of
piss and put it on, and let Roy suck it clean, which he gladly did, as it gave
him some access to her breasts. Then she'd said "So now that you like
the taste of piss, no more bra, you're going to drink it straight." and
he'd been forced to up end the rest of the bucket, weeping.
Now Frankie put her boobs carefully back in the Merry Widow and held
up the gigantic black dildo, which she'd christened Big Mo, for Roy to inspect. "Nice
and big, isn't he, dear?" FRankie then had bent down and compared Big
Mo, which was easily three feet long, to Roy's four and a half inch straining
erection. "Why isn't your pee-pee nice and big like Mo is?" Frankie
had asked Roy in a friendly way. "Look how puny your dickie is, like a
Vienna Sausage." Roy had hung his head in shame as his penis continued
to bulge wildly. Frankie could tell this was turning Roy on.
Frankie had reached down and began fondling Roy's purplish erection.
Since she'd locked the chastity belt on Roy some days before, the only time
his dick was free was during sessions when his hands were cuffed safely behind
his back or locked on the back of his head. IT had been many days since Roy
had been allowed to orgasm, and he was quite horny and tense.
"See honey" Frankie had said gently as she played her thumb
against Roy's quivering frenum. "I really can't let your dickie squirt
out all that nice semen, keeping your sperm i in there seems to be the only
way to make your pernis respectably big. Don't you want to be like Big Mo?" Frankie
swatted Roy's erection with the huge dildo, and
Roy winced with pain and his erection wilted a little bit before Frankie
revived it with a couple of caressing fingers.
"Darling, don't you see?" Frankie had asked as she ran her
long red nails across the tip of Roy's purple cockhead. " I love my baby
boy's dickie-bird but I want it to be a BIG boy, or else why should I let you
fuck me, right?" Roy looked sad. Frankie had stepped back and pushed Big
Mo into her vagina, just a little. She knew better than to rub it in too far,
or she'd have a twat like the Grand Canyon. "Oooh. Aaah." Frankie
closed her eyes and simulated orgasm, before pulling the dildo out and putting
it in front of Roy again, and running her manicured fingers up and down his
quivering shaft. Precum coursed down Frankie's fingers and she held them up
to Roy's lips and he licked them off. "You are so beautiful and exciting,
Miss Francesca." Roy had babbled. "Your fingers are so long and elegant." Frankie
had smiled.
"Elroy darling." Frankie had said as she tousled his hair,
before returning her manual attentions to his poor prick. "I adore you,
you are so understanding and considerate. But what a tiny wee- wee you have!" Frankie
pinched Roy's penis harshly with her Gaudette Nail Salon Manicure. "See,
I have no incentive to let you put that tiny little shrimp penis inside me." Roy
looked very sad. Frankie toyed with his erection with her fire engine red nails
some more.
"I should get a nice well-hung black man the color of Mo here." Frankie
held the dildo up and kissed it, not taking the fingers of her other hand away
from their manipulations of Roy's cock. She could tell he was getting harder
and harder. "I mean, there' s no real reason why I should ever let that
midget penis of yours in me again, is there, honey?"
Roy began weeping quietly. "I know I'm just a wimpie boy, Miss
Francesca." he sobbed. "But-but we're muh-married, and I luh-love
you and miss luh-lovemaking." Frankie ignored this plea, and continued
to stroke Roy's struggling cock. "I bet that Chisel guy has a big dick,
right? It's been in your mouth and ass, right?" Frankie asked, teasingly.
She swatted Roy's penis hard with big Mo again, and he winced once more. "After
all, the whole school, according to you, knew that you'd sucked this guy off,
and let him fuck you, like you were a penitentiary punk, huh?"
Frankie used her forefinger and thumb to massage Roy's glans and he
moaned, still crying. "I bet you really miss getting it from Chisel...but
anyway, you're not going to get it with me, bucko, not til you're big like
Mo." Frankie swatted Roy's dick once again with the monstrous dildo. " I
guesss IF I don't let you cum til about 20010, and I tease you all the time,
perhaps you'll have enough semen in you to make you a third as big as Mo, and
then MAYBE I'll let you fuck me." Roy looked hopeful. Jesus. He'd forgo
six years of orgasms to fuck me, Frankie thought. "But probably not, you
won't be big enough." Roy looked crushed again. "Oh well, time for
Big Mo to take your winkie back there!" Frankie had giggled.
Frankie had then strapped on the dildo and stared at it critically. "I
usually grease Big Mo up for you, but I don't see why you deserve it." Frankie
pushed the dildo into Roy's face. "But you can lubricate it if you like." Frankie
had never asked Roy to suck the dildo before,but with his recent revelations
about Chisel in the locker room, she might as well see how much practice her
husband had at that ancient technique.
"Miss Francesca, I really don't want to suck the dildo." Roy
had whined. "Please don't make me. It's so gay--" Frankie had laughed
and grabbed Roy's hair and pulled his head to the dildo, jamming it in his
mouth. "Jsues why don't you suck it the way you made me suck your dick
you asshole, remember your jokes about 'Deep Throat'?" Frankie asked harshly. "Hell,
let's skull-fuck you." She'd grabbed Roy by the ears, and slammed the
humongous dick in and out of his mouth and up and down his throat as the stunned
district attorney had gagged wildly.
Frankie had hummed a tune, closing her eyes. "Yes, sir, lick that
dick of mine...ooh, that feels good." At some point Frankie had looked
down and seen Roy's face turning violet, his eyes bulging and she'd decided
that this would be an unusual explanation to the coroner, and she'd pulled
the dildo all the way out, leaving her husband to cough and spit up on the
floor.
Frankie had looked down at her poor naked hubby with satisfaction. On
his knees, his hands locked behind his head, Roy coughed and hacked for nearly
ten minutes. Finally he'd turned his tear streaked eyes up to his beautiful
Miss Francesca again. "Is the little baby feeling better?" mimicked
Frankie. "Yes ma'am." Roy had whispered, and his dick resembled a
MX missile, it was so hard.
THWACK. Frankie now whacked the dildo against Roy's cheek. THWACK THWACK
Back and forth the dildo hit Roy's cheeks, and Roy looked bewildered, getting
this drubbing from that awful rubber thing protruding grotesquely from his
wife's little crotch. "You don't like that?"Frankie asked. "Back
when I was a girl, I starred in a film called Thongs and Dongs No.26' and a
porn star called Detroit Half-Smoke whacked his dick all over my cheeks before
he made me suck him off. Tough, isn't it?"
Finally, Frankie had forced Roy to bend over, and plunged Mo deep into
Roy's rectum. She'd given it to him hard before but never quite to the "hilt" as
it where,but now that she'd learned that Roy had been the sodomee for Chisel
and his gang, Frankie realized that there was probably lots of room back there!
Frankie had gritted her teeth and shoved the dildo in and out, and at the same
time reached down and grabbed Roy's cock and began jerking it, hard, so that
Roy was moaning with pain and ecstasy.
Frankie pushed hard and the dildo had hit home repeatedly, and then
she'd turned him over and fucked his ass from the front, so she could enjoy
the peculiar looks on his face...Finally just as he was about to cum, Frankie
had taken away her hand from his cock and pulled the cock out, and Roy had
sobbed "You-youre worse than-sob-than Chuh- Chisel-sob-" Roy had
cried desperately. Sob-oh-misery-it's awful!"
Frankie had finally pushed the huge dildo in Roy's face. He was horrified.
Not only was it covered in blood, but also in large amounts of shit. Frankie
had slipped a bit of Ex-Lax in Roy's cocoa that morning, and it was showing.
Mo was completely covered in bodily waste. "Oh, Frankie, take it away." Roy
had mumbled, looking ill. "No, no." Frankie had smiled."Clean
Mr. Mo off, Elroy." Roy had looked horrified. "I can't take it to
the sink, my hands are cuffed." He leaned his neck back to display his
hands cuffed. "No need for me to unlock you, honey." Frankie had
smiled cruelly. "Just clean the dildo off with your mouth, darling."
"Oh no!" Roy had screamed, like Mr. Bill on the Saturday Night
Live of years past. Even Chisel had never thought of anything like this. He
couldn't eat shit. "No!" Roy had begun scuttling away on his knees,but
it was difficult as his hands were cuffed behind his head and Frankie had kept
moving up gradually, pushing the dildo to Roy's lips. "C'mon Elroy" Frankie
had said in a singsong voice. "C'mon and clean Mo off, sweetheart." Frankie
watched Roy try to go into a fetal position. She had remembered that they'd
agreed on a safeword if she went too far.
"Roy if you absolutely can't do this, you can use your safeword,
dear. I'll unlock you and we can have a nice normal evening, watching television,
and I'll even give you a backrub. If you don't use your safeword, you'll lick
off Mo, and then I'm going to whip your puny dick and make you sleep in the
basement on the floor. But what do you really want? Roy had looked up, reluctantly
thinking about the safeword, and a nice evening. But finally he had shuffled
over and taken the shit-covered dildo gingerly in his mouth and licked it off
as Miss Francesca had smiled in satisfaction. Now, enjoying cocktails with
the two men, Frankie wondered what Chisel would think of she and Roy's private
life.
As they were sitting, drinking around the coffee table, Chisel was caught
between two throughts-- he was amazed how beautiful and poised Frankie was
in her snug flowered dress. Constantly she seemed to be bending over in his
direction, so he could catch glimpses of her substantial cleavage and she gave
Chisel long, penetrating looks as she crossed and re-crossed her long, shapely
legs. The other thought that penetrated Chisel's mind had to do with Roy, who
he felt hadn't changed much.
Roy crossed his legs just like Frankie did, and waved his little effeminate
white hans around as he kept whining about things, first the parking conditions
at the courthouse and then the quality of landscapers in Bethesda, the tony
neighborhood that this gorgeous house was in. Chisel thought of his ghetto
efficiency and was annoyed. Jesus. How do dorky, pudgy whiners like this score
hot women like Frankie? I mean, you have to ask.
And then Roy said something about Chisel's mother, who had been the
cafeteria lady at their middle school. "She looked just like you and your
brothers, except for the moustache." Roy thought this was extremely funny,
and Chisel's hands involuntarily curled into fists. He had to control himself,
but Jesus, Italian mothers supporting a drunken husband and five kids didn't
have access to depilatory agents. Suddenly, Chisel noticed Frankie looking
at him sympathetically as Roy was talking, and she cocked her head as if to
say "I married an asshole, huh?" What the hell was she putting up
with a jerk like this? Over dinner, Frankie talked about the art gallery where
she was interning, nad Chisel asked lots of informed questions, as he'd developed
an interest in art while touring Europe in the Marines. Roy, whose favorite
artist was Leroy Neiman, was put out and bored by this conversation, and finally
said something about Da Vinci being just a wop artist. Chisel Fantucci dropped
his spoon. "Roy, I can't believe you said that, you---" Chisel tried
to understand Roy, as he'd taken psychology courses, and the guy was an obvious
passive agressive,but this was unbelievable. Chisel's natural inclination was
to backhand Roy just like in the old days But he...
Frankie turned to Roy, enraged. "Elroy, that was a nasty comment." she
began in an icy tone."Go into our bedroom take down your pants and underpants
and stand in the corner until I come." As if Roy wasn't there, Frankie
turned and looked appealingly at Chisel. "Don't worry about my rude husband,
Chisel. I apologize for Elroy's behavior, and you and I will teach him a stern
lesson after dinner."
Roy looked at Frankie, astounded. What the hell was the meaning of this?
Their little bondage games were fun, he was damned though if she'd humiliate
him in front of this loser thug who had been so nasty to Roy in his youth. "Excuse
me Frankie? What the hell are you talking about?" Roy thought if he blustered
a bit, she would back down, saying she was just kidding. But Frankie looked
at Roy calmly, breathing heavily in her hot floral dress. Chisel watched the
violets dance around her bust as Frankie spoke to Roy in a calm but quite no-
nonsense tone. "Elroy, you are trying my patience. If you are not up in
the bedroom with your pants and drawers down, pressing your nose in the familiar
punishment corner, I will trhow the key to your chastity belt into the Potomac
River. One. Two. Three--" Roy jumped up and ran for the bedroom as Chisel
watched in amazement. Jesus, the middle class was weird.
Frankie leaned over and put her hand on Chisel's arm. "Go and make
sure he's in the corener with his pants down, Chisel, OK? Roy is such a difficult
little fellow to manage, you know?" Chisel Fantucci tried to protest. "I'm
really uncomfortable with this--" But Frankie dropped her hand in his
crotch, and gave Chisel's dick a strong squeeze. "Please Chisel? For me?"
Chisel arose awkwardly, attempting to cover the obvious tent in his
trousers. He followed Frankie's red pointed nail down the hallway. Chisel opened
the door and sure enough there was Roy Myers, head of DC's Corporation Counsel
prosectuion team standing with his big fat ass naked and his pants crumpled
around his knees, in the corner. It put Chisel in mind of that day in the park
with Iggy and Mumbles-- Roy's bare butt bent over the picnic table as Chisel's
switch fell again and again. But there was a slight difference. Roy had some
kind of metal belt around his waist even though his pants and undies were down--was
that the chastity belt?
Chisel could hear Roy sobbing slightly now, in his bedroom, and wasnt'
going to say anything, but Roy spoke "Frankie, is that you?" Roy
was facing the corner, of course so he couldn't see. "Please how could
you do that in front of that dago psychopath? This is so embarrassing. Tell
him you were kidding, I'll take any punishment you lay out after he leaves,
Miss Francesca, and buy you a fur coat in the bargain. Then, Roy impulsively
turned around and saw Chisel standing there. Chisel saw Roy's dick covered
by a metal cage--that must be the chastity belt. Humiliated beyond belief,
Roy took one look at Chisel and buried his face in his hands, weeping bitterly.
Chisel quickly exited the bedroom.
One Year Later
"Well, I'll check with you about the Hobson motion, Claude" Elroy
Myers said to Claude Gatty, his assistant, who nodded as they stood in the
hallway of DC Superior Court. Claude Gatty,who was scribbling something on
a manila file folder listened as his boss went through some instructions. Roy
looked up, and there he was...Oh God. I have to head Claude off. "Why
don't you go see what you can dig up on it now, Claude." Roy's voice became
a bit hasty. "Well I did have a couple of questions--"Claude was
inquiring,but as Chisel came up the hall, Roy clapped Claude on the shoulder
and said quickly "You can do it...I know you can."
And he hurried off to greet the tall, dark man who began shaking his
finger at Roy before he even halted. Claude was utterly mystified. It was so
odd that Roy Myers, who could terrify the most seasoned of defense attorneys
and even intimidated judges by his rhetoric, seemed so spooked by this lowly
probation officer, "Chisel" Fantucci. Claude had gathered that Roy
and his wife had rented Fantucci their guest bedroom for some reason...surely
they didn't need the money.
But Roy kisses up to this blue-collar jerk all the time, and look how
he treats him! Claude watched in astonishment as Fantucci subtly took Roy by
the lapel and shook it and muttered something, and Roy nodded his head, babbling
something back. Jesus, was he crying? Herbie, the security guard came up beside
Claude, staring also. "Fucked up, isn't it Herb?" They watched as
the probation officer shook his finger in Roy's face and Roy's knees seemed
to buckle as he shook his head.
"Weirder than that, Mr. Gatty." Herbie replied. "Man,
I was in the men's room downstairs about a month ago and I heard all this racket
in one of the stalls---you know the big one, where people with wheelchairs
go in?"
Claude nodded, not sure he wanted to hear the rest of this. "And
I heard this moaning, it was Fantucci, the probation guy...he was moaning like
he had some chick blowing him, but then the stall door opened, and he came
out, zippin' hisself up, and then he whistled, like he was calling a dog, and
Mr. Myers came out of the stall on his hands and knees, with his pants and
drawers down and there were all these welts on his butt--" Claude coughed. "Stop,
that's enough, Herbie. I have work to do." Claude headed downstairs to
look into the Hobson matter, and incidentally, to vomit in the ashtray outside.
Roy and Chisel
"You didn't get anything done last night, Piggy" Chisel was
saying to Roy venemously, as he shook him again. "Miss Francesca told
me that you neglected to clean the upstairs bathroom, as well as the hallway,
and your lines are still unwritten!" Chisel looked quickly up and down
the hall. Good. The security guard was walking away. He hauled off and backhanded
Roy across the face, and Roy burst into fresh tears.
"Master Chisel--"Roy blubbered-"I-I had so much to do,
sir. I had to vaccuum the living room, the dining room, and clean the downstairs
and basement bathrooms, and wash the windows, and then I had two hundred lines
of "I will not whine at Mistress" to do for Miss Francesca...and
I wanted to catch a bit of the basketball game." Chisel laughed, and knocked
Roy into the courthouse wall with a big hand.
"It's always about what YOU want, isn't it, fag-boy?" Chisel
made a motion as if to take off his belt. "I should take your pants down
right here in the courthouse and give it to you good, you disgusting, whining
hyena. Now you have ten minutes to get home and clean that bathroom, wash all
Miss Francesca's walls and finish the five hundred lines of "I will not
screech when Master puts out his cigar on my pee- pee." Chisel paused "GO!" Roy
ran.
Frankie, Amused.
Frankie lay on the couch, painting her nails. She was quite admiring
of them. "How do you do it, Frankie?" Jolene, a girlfriend asked
once. "You are the only one of us that has naturally long nails, it seems.
Don't you ever break them doing housework?" Frankie had just smiled. Frankie
now popped the cork on the polish bottle and began blowing on her cuticles.
When was the last time she'd had to wash a dish? Vaccum the rug? True,
in the eight years they'd been married, Roy had done the abundance of the housework
when they were having their thrice a week "sessions" but Frankie
had never had the energy to dom full time with Elroy. She could do it for a
bit, but all that hitting! But now Master Chisel was here. Frankie heard the
key turn in the lock. Hmm which one of them would it be? Master, or Wormy-Boy?
After Chisel had gone to check on Roy in the bedroom on their first
dinner meeting a year ago, he'd come back, quite embarrassed,but Frankie had
given him a nice blowjob that had enjoined his cordiality. She'd explained
about Roy's passive agressive behavior, and how she thought it was really good
for him to get a little discipline. (The doctor had noted Roy's heart condition
had virtually disappeared since 1998, the year that Frankie had begun domming
him.)
Frankie and Chisel had gone back in the bedroom and begun necking in
front of the infuriated Roy, who had made a remark about Chisel's parentage,
and Chisel had lost it...and Frankie had lent him a bullwhip to lose it with!
Before the end of the evening, Chisel had forced the sobbing bigot to suck
his penis to several orgasms ,while Frankie had slammed "Big Mo" in
Elroy's ass. Just before he'd gone home that night, Chisel had sodomized Roy
himself. Roy had taken it all so well in the end, that Frankie had allowed
him to masturbate on the toe of Chisel's Doc Martens and lick up the spooge.
Chisel, no longer diffident with Roy, began coming over regularly to
romance Frankie and "make sure Piggie isn't outta line" and gradually
he had become part of the place, to the point that Frankie and Roy had invited
Chisel to move in. Amazingly, it had been Roy who had made the suggestion. "I
really feel good having him here." Roy had said to Frankie hesitantly,
one night. " I miss our old life, but I realize that if I am ever to be
a really submissive boy--your boy, I probably need a firm Daddy around. And
someone who can assist in my punishments." Roy had looked sad for a moment.
"What's wrong, darling?" Frankie had asked gently, taking
his hand. She genuinely loved Roy, for all the crap that had been going on,and
wanted him happy, though of course not at the expense of herself. "Well,
I will miss your attention to me." Roy confessed. "I mean, Chisel
sleeps in the Big Bed." Roy was referring to their bed in the master bedroom,
and it was true--Roy was now relegated to the maids room on the third floor.
There was an old fashioned bell-pull that had been installed in the house years
ago by Roy's Mummy, and Chisel and Frankie could summon Roy when they needed
service with that.
"Well, don't worry" Frankie smiled, kissing Roy on the neck. "I
love you dearly, and though our relationship has changed, in my way, I will
be focused on you quite a bit." Roy had looked cheerier, though of course
he knew what "in my way" meant. Now, Frankie watched the door open
and Roy rushed inside. He ran across the living room, but paused as he saw
her. "What's your hurry, stranger?" Frankie asked pleasantly. "Don't
you have a good word for your Mistress?"
Roy bowed. "Hello, Miss Francesca. How was your day?" Frankie
smiled. Every day was a fun day for her now--she didn't work any more. The
two incomes derived from Roy and Chisel made it unneccessary to slave away
in the gallery anymore. "It was glorious. I played tennis with Roger the
pro in the morning, and then Roger came to spend the afternoon here with me." Frankie
smiled as Roy winced. He knew what that meant.
Roy stared at the bedroom. "I-I have to change and do some work,
Miss Francesca...I'm so sorry, Master is very upset with me--" Frankie
waved him on, and Roy rushed to the bedroom. Frankie thumbed through "Elle" magazine
until Roy reappeared. He was now dressed in a sailor suit from about 1929--
a Donald Duck beret and everything. He had shorts on and high knee socks and
saddle shoes, which Frankie had been amazed to find on the Internet. How many
places have saddle shoes for a fifty-one year old man?
Roy's Mummy had dressed Roy this way for the first twelve years of his
life, and it had caused no little amount of unpleasantness with other children
in the neighborhood...and his penis had often rised as he'd described how Mummy
would pull the blue shorts down and Roy's underwear, called "pantaloons" by
Mummy, before getting a harsh whipping with Mummy's ivory-tusk hairbrush. So
Frankie thought perhaps the old ways were the best...
Chisel pulled his Harley up into the driveway. Good, the pig had put
his car in the garage. Chisel got really annoyed when he didn't have room for
his bike,but the last time Roy had left the car out in Chisel's space, Chisel
had locked Roy in his own trunk, naked, and it had been a cold December night.
Roy was much more considerate now. Just the other day, he'd been unbelievably
thoughtful in a way that Chisel wouldn't have believed of the angry, bigoted
Elroy of one year before.
It had been a Sunday afternoon, and Chisel had decided to liven it up
by taking Roy into the den and taking down his pants and underpants for an
over-the-knee spanking with Frankie's short Spencer paddle.WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
WHACK!
Roy had been crying and screaming and coughing---it had been quite a
loud discipline session and at one point Roy buckled over on Chisel's lap and
then had asked "(sob) Master?" Chisel had sighed. "Yes, Piglet?" Roy
had coughed "Master-(sob)-I hope I'm not jouncing your legs too much (sob)
with my moving around. If you'd like (sob) we can adjourn to the bedroom and
I'll bend across the bed for you, Sir." Chisel had seen Roy look up at
him from his position over Chisel's lap and had seen real love in Roy's eyes,
and in his way, Chisel felt the same way for Elroy.
Chisel had laughed and ruffled Roy's thinning hair and taken him up
on this offer, and there had been screams from the Myers master bedroom for
the next forty minutes! Chisel had become such a force in Roy's life, that
Frankie had put Chisel in charge of Roy's supervised orgasms.
She rarely saw Roy's cock any more, even for teasing, as that was a
great privilege from her now. Usually, Roy's dick was locked in the horrible
pouch, and was only taken out when Chisel was in an irritable mood and felt
like knocking clothespins off the tip, or putting out lit cigarettes on Roy's
frenum.
Then, every three or four months, Chisel would take Roy to a woodland
cabin. Chisel would supervise Roy's cleaning and scrubbing the cabin from cellar
to attic, and then the two men would hunt and fish together. Of course Roy
would get his share of sessions of being whipped with branches in the woods
or attentions in the "woodshed" in the back of the cabin.
Sometimes Chisel would invite a group of Leathermen up to hunt and fish
and Roy would be their French maid to whip and sodomize to their hearts delight.
Roy provided excellent waitress and hostessing services during the midnight
poker games at the cabin.
Once, Roy had asked to take a hand, as he'd been a star player in law
school, and Chisel, appalled that Miss Francesca's sissy would dare to want
to gamble, pulled Roy's panties down and his French maid's skirt up and paddled
him in front of the other roaring players. Roy had spent the rest of the visit
writing 2,000 times "Playing cards are the Devil's paste-boards" and
hadn't mentioned gambling since.
At the end of the visit, Chisel would allow Roy to masturbate to orgasm,
licking the discharge up off the woodshed's dusty floor. This was a tremendous
concession on Chisel's part, as he'd explain to Roy, while laughing to himself,
as Roy would have, throughout the 90 days of his celibacy, have sucked Chisel's
dick at an average of twice a day, three times on weekends. There was so much
cum landing in Roy's stomach that there really was barely enough room left
for food!
Now, Chisel hopped off his bike and jogged up to the front door, He
took the key to unlock it, and realized that the door was already unlocked.
That was a bad security precaution, even if Frankie was home, for Elroy not
to lock the damned front door! Chisel walked in to see Frankie reading "Elle" and
Roy in his Donald Duck suit, scrubbing the living room wall with vigor.
Chisel stepped in and greeted Frankie with a big kiss, which Frankie
reciprocated. "Elroy!" Roy turned and bowed. "Yes Master? I
have cleaned the bathroom, finished my lines, and am now finishing up the walls." Roy
seemed to be smirking as he did in class when the principal would announce
that once again as honor student, he'd won the free tickets to the movies week
after week. "Perhaps Master will allow me to watch the playoffs tonight
if I'm finished, sir?"
Chisel smiled. "Oh, what a good boy you are, Elroy! You've gotten
so much done." Roy simpered and Frankie smiled as she continued to peruese "Elle".
Chisel coughed. "I would see no reason for you to miss the basketball
playoffs,but do tell me, Elroy, do you have much regard for the welfare of
your possessions? or your wife?" Roy looked surprised at Chisel as he
said this. "What's that, Sir?" Chisel walked casually up to Roy and
knocked off Roy's Donald Duck beret and grabbed Roy by the hair, dragging him
to the front door. "Look at this." Chisel inquired of Roy. "It's
unlocked. I didn't have to unlock the door." Frankie hid a smile listening
to Chisel berate Roy for having left the door unlocked at only four in the
afternoon. "Don't you care about your wife? Or my things?" Chisel
screamed at Roy, hauling him back in the living room. "Take down your
pants now, Pig!" Roy fumbled with his snaps and finally his pants and
underpants were around his ankles. Chisel took his wide leather belt off and
threw Roy across the arm of the couch. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Chisel's arm fell
and rose and fell again and Roy's cheeks grew crimson as his legs kicked. WHACK!
WHACK! WHACK! Finally Chisel turned Roy around and grabbed Roy's metallic chastity
pouch, squeezing it. "Aaagh" Roy screamed. "Chisel, be careful" Frankie
said mildly. "You could hurt Roy seriously. It's metal, and tight enough
around his cock and balls. Here, why don't you unlock it?" Frankie handed
Chisel the key, and he unlocked Roy's chastity pouch, handing her the keys
and the pouch back. "Time I put this in the dishwasher" Frankie said,
as she took the pouch into the kitchen.
"So what are you so focused on that you can't remember to unlock
the door" demanded Chisel of Roy, squeezing Roy's balls in his meaty hand. "Is
it these pathetic nuts of yours? Is that all you think about,you little shit-pot?" Chisel
squeezed Roy's balls and then transferred the fingers of his other hand to
the tip of Roy's cock, where he squeezed and pinched as well, and Roy howled
unhappily. "You make me sick. Leaving the door ajar like that is so dangerous,
and all you care about is your disgusting pecker."
THUMP! Chisel kicked Roy in the balls,and he fell down crying, and coughing,
and then Chisel kicked Roy viciously in the side. "Not too much of that
coughing, Elroy" Frankie said, her eyes still on "Elle" magazine. "The
other night when Chisel was giving it to you for leaving the garbage out for
the rats, you coughed all this phlegm on the carpet and left a stain." Chisel's
lip curled and he hauled Roy up by his collar and slapped him again. "You
just can't help fucking up this house, can you, shithead?"
"P-please, Master Chisel..." Roy blubbered miserably. "I'm
trying to be a good boy...I'll remember about the lock next time." Chisel
threw Roy over his lap, and snapped his fingers to Frankie for the strap, which
he used for the next ten minutes to welt Roy's buttocks, back and thighs while
Roy screamed. "Next time, it's always next time" Chisel shouted in
horrid imitation of Roy's effeminate voice. "Please, please!" Roy
screamed, wriggling out of Chisel's grasp and falling to the floor, His pants
were tangled about his ankles, impeding Roy's progress as he tried to flee
to the bedroom
Suddenly the front door opened and a gorgeous young woman with a strawberry
blonde ponytail piled high over her head strutted in, tight hot pink top jouncing
her perky 36C's. As her boobs pushed up her shirt, all could see her pierced
bellybutton, and tight cut-offs. But what was most noticeable about this young
lady was her high heels, somewhat inappropriate with her casual attire. Chisel
noticed Roy's hungry look at them.
She threw her books down from her community college Psychology course. "S'up
Mom?" Frankie looked up to greet her daughter Pamela. "Not much,
darling. Chisel is giving your stepfather an
understanding of homeland security."
Pamela grinned and cracked her gum as she watched the sobbing man in
the little-boy's sailor suit cringing, his pants down around his ankles, in
front of the hulking Italian weilding the strap. "Givin' it to Roy, huh,
Chisel? Anything I can do?" Pamela asked politely.
"Yeah...Roy, I'll let you off if you let Pamela spike your dickie
the way my girlfriend Charlene did at that party in senior year." Chisel
said, grinning. Roy hung his head. Roy lay on the floor, watching Pamela tap
her heel and grin at him. She was quite a minx, his stepdaughter. After Pamela
had graduated from Miss Hall's Preparatory Institute, the boarding school where
she'd lived ten months a year since she was eight, Frankie had asked Roy if
he'd mind if her daughter moved back home to go to school. "And I want
to tell her the nature of our relationship"
Frankie had said firmly, though Roy had not been happy. Pamela had spent
large parts of her school vacations visiting her grandparents or girlfriends
from school, so Roy and Frankie had never really needed to change too much
of their odd life for the girl;but now that she was living at home, it would
have to be explained, and the girl would have to adjust.
Frankie was quite pleased at how quick Pamela had figured it all out-
-she had been quite alarmed to give birth to this child, the father of whom
was a nameless client from her prostitution and exotic dancing days, but Pamela
was bright,funny, and quite beautiful, and she'd always been able to put Roy
under her thumb.She'd ordered him to buy her all sorts of toys when she was
a child, and then in her teens, Pamela would jump around on Roy's lap, kissing
his neck and whispering in his ear until Roy opened his wallet or handed over
the car keys--and then there was a brand new Miata convertible to drive back
to school with when Pamela turned 16.
In the summers, Roy would take Pamela to the beach and spend nearly
an hour spreading suntan oil all over her body, not even neglecting the tops
of her breasts that bulged out from her bikini tops. Pamela often would return
the favor, rubbing the insides of Roy's shorts, her delicate nails scraping
his cock and balls. Then when Roy would stand up, his penis would make a little
tent in the shorts, and Pamela would call her girlfriend's attentions to "Poppy
Pervert."
And Pamela had always gently belittled Roy, calling him a "big
doofus" and slapping his ass as she walked by him in the kitchen. She
often would sit and watch television with her stepfather, dropping her fingers
in his lap as they were intent on "Law and Order" and whispering
sweet bitchies in his ear.
"If I weren't your stepdaughter wouldn't you like to do me?" Pamela
would kiss Roy's neck as she went on, pulling out her tube top so Roy could
see her honeyed mounds jouncing within. "C'mon Roy...you know I'm a cutie-pie."
When finally, she'd learned the extent of the relationship between Frankie,
Roy and Chisel, Pamela had taken in stride. She loved Chisel and enjoyed riding
on the back of his Harley, and was often rocked to hilarity watching Chisel
giving it to Roy with his big strap. One day, though Pamela had come home with
a couple of girlfriends and heard Roy sloshing about in the tub. She'd asked
Roy if he wanted her to wash his back, and the old pervert had said yes quite
enthusiastically.
So Pamela, Kiersten and Zoe had gone into the bathroom, startling the
shit out of Roy, and they'd tied his hands with clothesline, and then washed
his back and entire body, and then forced him to stand in the bathtub so they
could shave his cock and balls completely,before bringing him out into the
living room and calling some boys they knew from the wrong side of town. "Bring
your BB guns, Rodrigo."
Pamela had gotten the boys to tie the protesting Roy up naked, hanging
from a tree branch and they'd taken turns shooting BBs at Roy's naked cock
and balls as the prosecuting attorney screamed. "He put Uncle Pedro in
jail" Jose said as he took a vicious shot, bouncing a BB off Roy's inflamed
glans. "Let's give it to the bastard."
After wards, Pamela had forced Roy to suck off Rodrigo, Jose, Manuel
and Luis, and give them each a few bucks for providing such entertainment. "And
if you ever tell Mom or Chisel that I put you through this, I'll make sure
they know that you wanted me to come into the bathroom and wash your back." Pamela
promised.
Another evening when Chisel and Frankie were at a Hells' Angel's reunion
or something, Pamela had invited some of her Negro drug dealer gang-banger
friends over and they had wrecked the house and whipped Roy's cock and balls,
and taken turns giving it to him from behind as he screamed. Roy cleaned the
house frantically before Frankie and Chisel got back,but it was still stained
with some graffitti which Pamela had insisted that Roy had done...Chisel laughed,
as he could imagine the real culprits,but "took it out of " Roy anyway
with a horsewhip that he'd bought at a leather show on the way home.
Now, Pamela came over to where Roy cowered at Chisel's feet and flashed
her heel in front of him. "You want this on your dick, Roysie?" Pamela
clicked her heel against Roy's chin and he shook his head,but his cock had
never been harder. "Oh, Roy likes this kind of thing" Chisel said,
laughing. "We had a little party with this in high school."
Roy flushed and the memory came back to him....
"Elroy darling" Mummy looked pointedly at Roy, who was buttoning
on a nice dress shirt. "Are you sure you want to go to this party, dear?
Mummy doesn't like you going out in the evenings, you know. Wouldn't you like
to hold yarn for me?" Roy sighed. Every Saturday night since Father had
left (leaving a note to Mother saying "You are a cunt and so is our pansy
son") Roy had been forced to stand and hold yarn in his hands while Mother
took ropes off of it to roll into a ball for knitting purposes. Or they'd play
Parcheesi or watch public television.
Although Roy did get together with his Chess Club for tournaments and
of course he was on the Debating Team, and there were sometimes evening meets,
Mummy always accompanied him, and watched adoringly as Roy competed. She still
walked him to school in the mornings sometimes, and he was a senior in high
school! "Yes, Mummy, I'd like to get out, this is my first school party." Roy
said hesitatingly. He had tried to stay on Mummy's good side all day, he'd
polished the silver and painted Mummy's nails for her, and he'd let Mummy give
him a sponge bath, which he found quite humiliating at eighteen years old,
but what could he tell her?
"Well I don't want lots of parties to affect your grades, dear." Mummy
said to Roy with a gentle smile. But she knew Roy was the best student in the
class, and a National Merit Scholar. Mummy smiled firmly and breathed in, and
her full chest heaved in the black satin dress she was wearing (she liked to
dress up for her baby on a Saturday night) "Now Elroy, it is now seven-thirty...Mummy
wants you back in this house by ten o'clock, do you understand?"
Roy gasped. Ten o'clock? Jesus, he knew that Crystal's parties really
didn't get started til around eleven-thirty...the Debate Team had driven by
them on the way home on Saturday nights and Roy could often see the girls in
their tight shirts heaving all over the lawn and the guys feeling them up,
and he'd heard the war stories in class on Monday morning. "Mummy...ten
o'clock is awfully early, how about twelve-thirty?" But Mummy's eyes were
adamant. And Roy knew he was lucky enough that he was getting out at all.
Mummy took Roy by the arm and brought him into the living room and showed
him the cane, Father's Razor Strop the elephant's-tusk hairbrush and the enema
bottle on the coffee table. "Now Elroy" Mummy said in a no-nonsense
voice, "When you tend to act up sometimes I have to use these things on
you, and Mummy doesn't like to do that, so I want you to be back by ten and
not one minute later. If you are late, Mummy will take down your pants and
she will whip your bottom with every one of these implements, and then you'll
get a nice calming enema, dear." Roy hung his head,but he had assented.
Mummy was very strong with the hairbrush, Roy knew. Roy had not been
allowed to cross the street without Mummy until he was in his freshman year
of high school, and he still remembered when Mummy had caught him once or twice
in the seventh grade sneaking across the street. She had taken his pants and
underpants down right there in the park and whipped his bottom with a cut tree
branch in front of his laughing playmates. And even the week before she had
given him a whipping over the bathtub because Roy's bed didn't pass "the
bounce test".
Roy had finally gotten out of the house and gone to the party. Once
he'd gotten there, it had been weird and difficult. He hadn't exactly been
invited--he'd overheard Crystal talking to someone else,but no one was throwing
him out, so far. Roy was obediently drinking only a ginger ale,and avoiding
the keg--he wasn't sure what Mother would do to him if he came home drunk.
But then the door had opened and Chisel and his girlfriend had come in, with
their friends, and Chisel had seen Roy standing by the stereo, and he'd frowned,but
said nothing.
And Roy wasn't sure what insanity made him address Chisel,but he couldn't
get over how vulgar Chisel's girlfriend's hair looked. Roy thought hard about
it for a moment...he knew that Chisel wouldn't bother him if he didn't start
anything, but Roy had a mouth! All of a sudden out it came "So Charlene,
what are you trying to do, be a pathetic imitation of Farrah Fawcett?" Everyone
froze. Roy almost slapped himself in the mouth. How could he do that? All the
girls were trying to imitate the new star of that show "Charlie's Angels" Why
would he pick on the head bully's girlfriend?
Charlene opened her mouth,and then she burst into tears. "It's
true, Chisel! I look like shit! The smart guy says so!" She buried her
head in Chisel's leather jacket, and the bully had caressed her hair. Then
he'd stared at Roy. "What the fuck's wrong with you, creep?" Chisel
had demanded. "Apologize to Charlene NOW." But Roy had snickered
at Chisel...he thought Crystal's father must be here somewhere, and Chisel
wouldn't try anything, would he? "She's a bimbo, Chisel, she..." And
Chisel had come on him.
Chisel's fist had crashed into Roy's jaw, and Roy had fallen down, and
then Chisel had gotten in Roy's face. "You think you're such a big dick
here, don't you, creep?"Chisel had said, as everyone watched. "Well
I'm going to treat you just like Mumbles and I did back in the woods last summer." Chisel
had reached down and unbuckled Roy's pants and underpants, dragging them down,
and then he'd grabbed a belt and let Roy have it...
Roy had been so upset, and all the girls were laughing and pointing
as Chisel whacked Roy's butt with the belt, and then all of a sudden, Charlene
said coldly. "Look, his dick is hard." Chisel looked down in astonishment,
and it was true, Roy was hard as a rock. "That scumbag has the hots for
you, Chisel." she said, and breathed heavily in her little fuschia top.
Roy was excited by the whipping and the humiliation,but he was especially excited
by Charlene's boobs bouncing in the fuschia top.
But then he wasn't so excited because Charlene got mad "You little
bastard!" she shrieked "Don't you get a hard-on for my boyfriend!"
With that, Charlene clicked over in her high boot-heels and began stomping
Roy's bare dick onto the floor as he screamed. Crushing spikes stabbed Roy's
swollen glans, and Charlene didn't stop. Suddenly Charlene's girlfriend Patty
came up and began kicking Roy also, and as he tried to squirm away, Chisel
dropped to his knees and held Roy until the punishment was over... "Dude,
what a wimp!" "Freak!" "Loser!" Roy was completely
miserable, and then a number of the partiers had thrown beer on Roy,which Mother
had refused to believe Roy had not ingested.
Thirty years later, Roy looked at Chisel and Frankie and Pamela-- staring
especially at Pamela's heels--and shuddered. The rest of the evening had been
awful. Chisel had locked Roy in the bathroom, and then he and his pals had
gone out and trashed the convertible that Roy had been awarded by the Jaycees
for being "Young American of the Year".
They'd cut the tires, spraypainted the sides and smashed in the windows,
and when Roy had finally gotten home at one in the morning, Mummy had whipped
him to tears, and given poor Elroy an ice-cold enema. After seeing the condition
of the car, Mummy had insisted that Roy had been reckless, and had taken the
car away and suspended Roy's license until he'd graduated from law school eight
years later. It had been a terrible experience. And now Pamela was ready to
put him through it again!
"Now let me get this straight" Pamela asked. "He left
the door open. All my stuff, my video equipment, everything's here and Step-Pop
left the door open?" Pamela waved her arms around melodramatically. "And
I could have been raped or something?" Pamela bared her teeth at Elroy.
Staring up at her, at her long legs coming out of the tiny shorts and her high
heels tapping, Roy's dick became longer than before, and a bit of pre-ejaculate
drooled from the tip.
Pamela strode over and dug her heel into Roy's glans slowly. "So
you don't care about us at ALL!" She dug harder and Roy began weeping
silently. He gritted his teeth as the pain grew sharper as the heel nearly
penetrated through Roy's skin of his penis to the floor. Pamela smiled to herself.
This was rather entertaining. At the end of the semester, Pamela was leaving
to take a job on an island where men were treated this way all the time! It
was going to be lots of fun.
Though Pamela had somewhat sensed the dynamics of the relationship between
her mother and stepfather, she'd had her own experiences with a submissive
lover, who had, as Roy had done with her mother, suggested that Pamela dominate
him. "Is it something about me?" Pamela had asked Frankie, and her
mother had laughed "The women in our family have some kind of an aura,
I think...enjoy it, honey."
Despite being well over fifty-five years oldTrevor was certainly an
exciting, attractive and generous lover--he'd met Pamela when she'd been a
part-time secretary in his shipping firm, and he'd immediately begun taking
her out to dinner and buying her jewelry--it was nice!
After the first couple of intense nights together, Pamela had told Trevor
that he was really a generous lover as well---he thought of her needs first
nearly all the time. He spent hours kissing her naked body, licking her from
her chin down her breasts to her toes and back up again! Sometimes he would
massage her for hours with all sorts of scented oils and it would make her
purr in satisfaction.
In the mornings, Trevor would present Pamela with strawberries and cream
or Eggs Benedict just as her eyes opened under the covers, and then he would
lick her to several more orgasms before she had to get
dressed for work. One day Trevor had told Pamela that she didn't have to
be a secretary any more-- "I'd like you to just be my companion." he'd
insisted. "I'll give you the same salary and benefits...just accompany
me places. You can drive the car if you like!"
But after Pamela had told Trevor what a generous lover he was as well
as being such a benefactor, Trevor had showed her his Chastity Ring. Similar
to a Prince Albert, Trevor's penis was pierced, as were his testicles and there
was a way to enjoin the three rings and lock them. "How come I've never
seen these rings before?" Pamela had asked. Sure, she hadn't paid a lot
of attention to Trevor's cock. He'd never required her to give him a blowjob,
and they rarely screwed, as he was constantly between her legs with his tongue.
"It's been a long time since I met a woman who I felt I could trust...who
would appreciate these rings" Trevor said as he gazed with worshipful
admiration at the beautiful girl who dangled the rings from her long French
nails. "Since my late wife...Gabrielle was wonderful. She understood how
the rings could benefit her and how they benefited me. When her cancer was
diagnosed, Gabrielle wrote a letter that she said I should give a woman who
I thought would understand my needs, and her potential for happiness. She orderd
me not to read the letter myself, but I have it for you."
Pamela opened the yellowing envelope and, shielding the letter from
Trevor's curious eyes, she read:
"Dear Young Woman,
As you may have surmised by now, my husband can be quite a devoted and
generous lover. Trevor knows how to take care of a lady with his wallet as
well as his tongue. But for maximum effectiveness, it is best to take control
of Trevor's sexual releases. The more bottled up Trevor is, the more desperate
he is to please an enterprising young lady!
I have found it is best to keep Trevor orgasm-less for five to six weeks
at a time, during which he must pleasure me quite often and buy me gifts, treating
me like the Princess that I am...and trust me, I am just a poor girl from the
Bronx of New York. A bit of teasing, some stroking of Trevor's manhood helps
to gather the energy up that makes him the devoted slave-man that he has the
potential to be.
Only let him release his juices when you feel that you've had a month
or two of real enjoyment...until then make him suffer and serve you and you
have a wonderful boyfriend or husband...I envy you, and wish I were (still)
in your place.
Gabrielle ." In the next eight months, Pamela had made extreme
use of Gabrielle's letter. Although she did live at home with Roy and Frankie
and Chisel, she spent many nights at Trevor's penthouse apartment. And when
she was away from him, the rings remained interlocking his penis and scrotum...
"How's that feel?" Pamela asked Trevor teasingly one night.
She was naked and rubbing her body all over Trevor. He also was naked,but his
penis was interlocked with The Rings and so as his cock struggled to erection,
the Rings held it against his swollen testicles. It had been some time since
he'd been allowed to masturbate. Pamela rubbed her pussy against Trevor's bulging,
bowed erection. "I'm so wet, honey." she moaned kittenishly. "A
shame you can't fuck me, isn't it?"
Trevor moaned and kissed Pamela's neck feverishly. "You're so beautiful,
Miss Pamela...it's just so incredible. But please don't rub against me when
I have the Rings on." "Why" Pamela asked, innocent eyed. "Didn't
Gabrielle ever do that?" Trevor blushed. "Yes. Yes she did,but it
was so painful, it's just too much." Pamela had laughed and rolled Trevor
on his back.
"Let's see how strong these Rings are!" she'd said cheerfully.
Grinding her pussy on Trevor's cock, she actually got it to nearly stand up,
though it was near impossible because the cockhead was being dragged down by
the Rings to the scrotum. "I wonder if I could get your dick to break
free of these damn Rings to fuck me." Pamela said thoughtfully as she
rubbed her clitoris against Trevor's pierced shaft
Trevor had moaned in extreme pain as Pamela rubbed, and watched helplessly
as she'd taken one of her nipples, pushing it up to her mouth and licking it,
which just made his cock go wild. Finally, Pamela had gotten so excited that
she'd moved away from his suffering cock and dropped her pussy over his face,and
Trevor had licked her to three shuddering orgasms before Pamela had finally
begun to yawn and gone to sleep, leaving the poor man to lie awake, frustrated
and aroused, helplessly manipulating his Rings as his penis grew bigger and
bigger.
Other times, Pamela would sit up in her bra and panties, or in tight
shirt and short-shorts and make Trevor stand or kneel naked in front of her,
and play her latest French manicure across his suffering shaft--she would sometimes
mercifully remove the Rings and then stroke his penis until she was bored and
then take her fingers away from the bulbous, purple head, and wait til Trevor
was calm enough to put the Rings back on.
Other times she would merely stroke his penis while the cruel Rings
were still interlocked, playfully pushing one finger or the other through the
loops of the rings as her other fingers grabbed and tickled his shaft. Trevor
would giggle and then cry as his penis contorted desperately against the cruel
metal circles.
"But you do see." Trevor said to Pamela one night over dinner. "That
the Rings do make me more appreciative of you...the less I am able to cum,
the more aroused I am, and naturally when I am aroused I want to pleasure you,
my darling." He sipped some wine. "But I hope soon I might get a
chance for release? Just a small one?" Pamela hid a smile as she watched
the pleading eyes of one of the most successful businessmen in the area. Pamela
was used to all this pleading...Pamela really enjoyed Trevor's attentions so
much more after the Rings were locked on his penis and balls. It was amaszing
how even more devoted he was to her pleasure, and sometimes he would go down
on her for hours, finding little hot spots around her clitoris that made her
shriek or purr.
Of course, when the oral sex was over, after Trevor had kissed every
inch of Pamela's luscious body and massaged her curving breasts and bouncing
buttocks, Pamela would be tired and would want to go to sleep, and then would
come the PLEADING. PAmela would stare at Trevor's engorged cock, purplish and
attempting to be stiff,thoguh the Rings kept it in its cruel bow, locked as
it was against Trevor's scrotum.
Night after night it would be the same. "Please, darling, I k now
I told you I wanted to stay locked as long as you needed me to." Trevor's
eyes would well up as he begged. "But I am so desperate--I won't even
bother you if you unlock me, I'll go in to the next room and quietly masturbate,
after all I just gave you four orgasms in a row, sweet!" Trevor would
look down, and look up again. "Pamela, it's just been so long since I
came."
Pamela would giggle kittenishly, and look down, playing her long, manicured
nails across the RIngs as her tongue fondled Trevor's right ear. "But
I thought you were going to obey me?" Pamela would whisper as her thumb
massaged the side of Trevor's straining shaft. "I thought pleasuring me
was about ME. Not about you shooting your load, Trevor."
Trevor would nod sadly into her neck. "But sweetest, I --itt's
been forever for me." Pamela's fingers would tickle Trevor's shaft as
she'd whisper something like "Yeah, feels like it down here!" As
her middle "fuck you" finger stroked the sensitive area just on the
bottom of Trevor's shaft, called the frenum, Trevor would gasp, biting his
tongue.
The combined arousal of Pamela's wandering fingers and the intense pain
as Trevor's penis struggled to straighten itself, in a vain attempt to separate
itself from the cruel Rings, which looked a bit like the Olympic symbol when
they were pulled out, was almost too much for poor Trevor.
It was remarkable how quickly things had changed-- Pamela was no longer
deferential at all to Trevor, in fact she treated him like an impudent puppy.
Even when she came to visit Trevor in the office now that she was on salary
to hang out at home and take her classesa, Pamela would not show the respect
that she should to this generous shipping magnate.
Instead when Pamela visited, she'd wear a tiny cocktail dress or very
short skirt and revealing sweater, and hop up on Trevor's desk and wave her
long legs about in his lap as he stared at her helplessly, and occasionally
Pamela would instruct Trevor to give his staff the afternoon off, and she'd
strip him down, binding Trevor's hadns behind his back and play her long legs
and high heels into Trevor's suffering crotch, and oh, how he would wince in
intense pain.
Sometimes Pamela would remove the Rings and then, although Trevor's
penis was still unsatisfied after her long teases, at least he wasn;t in the
pain the Rings gave him. Now when Pamela's long nails teased his penis, it
was free to stick straight out in a missile-like erection, without being cruelly
pinched back with the chain of Rings to his quite bloated scrotum.
Trevor would show his gratitude after su ch sessions quite often by
taking PAmela on trips to Tiffany's and buying her whatever diamond rings and
expensive gifts he thought she might enjoy. "You are so wonderful, dearest,
Trevor would gush to Pamela.
But that night at dinner, when Trevor began begging, Pamela had looked
at her poor boyfriend, who indeed had not cum in several months, only twice
in fact in the eight months since Pamela had read Gabrielle's letter and put
on the Rings. And Pamela took pity on Trevor. "All righty" Pamela
said as she sipped her Mai Tai. "I am considering allowing you to cum.
But Trevor, I want you to earn it, do you understand?"
Trevor had looked puzzled. What did she mean by that? They'd gone clubbing
as they always did, Pamela dancing as if she were glued to Trevor's big frame,
her sparkly cocktail dress looking as if it were painted on her. When they'd
sat down, Pamela had taken Trevor's dick locked though it was in the Rings
out from under the table and stroked it, while she sipped a Long Island Iced
Tea with the other. Trevor shuddered with the need to orgasm. IT had been so
long now, even Gabrielle had never teased poor Trevor to this extent!
"What do you mean by "earning" my orgasm?" Trevor
had asked Pamela huskily as they sast there, Pamela's hand moving steadily
under the table. "I just want you to value your orgasms, dearest. In a
way, you're so much luckier than I...I get all the orgasms I want from you
and, um, others." Trevor looked very sad. "And so I don't value a
nice rare orgasm at all! I want you to appreciate your cums more than that."
Trevor felt Pamela's hand pull his penis tip slightly, and she giggled
feeling all the precum slathering around in her hand. HE o fcourse couldn't
get completely erect because of the Rings binding his cock to his scrotum,
but the penis was certainly filling with blood, lots of blood. Trevor looked
slightlyill, she thought. This is good, real good.
Pamela had then used her cell phone at the table "Hello? Chisel,
how's it going? Meet me over at 8209 Hampstead Lane in Chevy Chase in half
an hour will you?" Trevor had started when he'd heard Pamela giving his
address to a stranger.
"Dearest, if you--" Trevor' voice sank. "If you don't
want to spend the night you don't have to have someone come pick you up, I
can take you home." Pamela had smiled at Trevor, a genuine smile. "Sweet
thing, I am going to spend the night with you,but I want you to meet a friend
of mine, it's important."
Trevor had driven Pamela to his home in his steel gray BMW, and the
whole time Pamela had stroked the inside of his thigh with the extra long manicure
she'd gottent hat morning, her nails grabbed Trevor's penis slightly through
the crotch and they'd nearly had an accident.
Pulling up at Trevor's house, he'd killed the engine, and Pamela had
climbed on Trevor's lap righ there in the car and began kissing him wildly.
Trevor gasped as Pamela began grinding her crotch against his lap as her tongue
shot out of her glossed lips, and scoured his teeth, his own tongue and the
back of his throat, and boy did his penis struggle against the Rings.
It was interesting because Pamela was such a tiny little thing--only
a hundred ten pounds and Trevor himself was about two hundred twenty pounds
of muscle on a six foot two frame. but she was definitely in charge, like there
was no one's business. Then Pamela had suggested they go in, and Trevor had
staggered in the house feeling almost drunk with desire as his cock was bulging
from the crotch.
Inside, Pamela had sat down in Trevor's easy chair in his luxurious
parlor and crossed her legs. "Darling, why don't you strip and get me
a drink." She had laughed as TRevor had run up naked with a gin and tonic
in his hands, his be-Ringed penis flailing. Pamela had taken handcuffs from
her purse and locked Trevor's hands behind his back. Still sitting in arm chair
she'd motioned Trevor to bend down and put a couple of clothespins from her
bag onto Trevor's erect nipples.
And then she played with Trevor's Rings just a little more--Trevor had
moaned and bitten his tongue as the lovely girl's fingers had wandered up and
down his suffering shaft as it struggled to burst from the evil little chain
that bound it in the cruel arc to his swollen, purplish testicle.s Pamela was
having a ball with this tall, stiff, millionaire, as she poked and prodded
his crotch to her heart's content. Running a finger slyly around the side of
Trevor's shaft, Pamela giggled as she saw the piercing ring that locked into
the cockhead turning red. Trevor was out of his mind with desire and pain--would
she ever let up?
Suddenly there was a knock on the door and Pamela leaped up, instructing
Trevor to stand still,a nd she'd run out of the parlor, coming back with a
large, well built Italian man, who was quite muscled and stocky. The guy looked
at Trevor with contempt. "Jesus, what a queerio, Pammie. You got him locked
up and everything." Pamela had giggled and stared at Trevor who stood
stiffly, quite aware of his nakedness and shame. Was this a Mafiosi in his
living room?
Trevor had looked at this fellow in astonishment. Who was this? What
the hell did he want? TRevor felt utterly humiliated standing in front of the
two dressed people who he felt were tittering at him. "Trevor, this is
Chisel" Pamela said in a friendly way. "Chisel is a friend of my
mom's. Trevor loves Mom, Chisel." Pamela added to Chisel who frowned and
said "I bet." TRevor's penis engorged a bit more as he thought of
Pamela's mother, who he'd had lunch with once or twice and seen coming by the
office for her wayward daughter.
Trevor thought Frankie was one of the hottest women he'd ever seen,
and my God she was only thirty-five! Pamela had told Trevor the story of how
her mother had left an abusive home at puberty to turn tricks
to get through private school and college. "I was Mom's seventeenth
birthday present" Pamela had laughed. We're more like sisters, y'know?" That
this thuggish Chisel man was a friend of beautiful Frankie's utterly mystified
Trevor, and he stared at Chisel. "Why is he here, Pamela?" Trevor
asked. "We're having an intimate time or so I thought."
Pamela had smirked but she had come over and put her arms around Trevor's
neck "Darling" Pamela had purred "I want you to be truly a subservient
boy, you can do that for Miss Pamela, can't you..you don't want to ruin your
chance to cum." Chisel snickered. Trevor gasped as she locked her crotch
with his struggling Rings. "Y-yes Miss Pamela."
"I want you to regard Chisel as your Master. He's going to help
me put you through your paces tonight. You may need a little discipline you
know, darling. You know that's important don't you?" Trevor had shivered.
PAmela could be quite a disciplinarian when she wanted to, and she had taken
a belt to Trevor for many minor offenses. Why, the previous Sunday Pamela had
jokingly called Trevor a "Crybaby" when they were coming back from
the Farmer's Market, and he had mildly objected.
When they'd gotten home, PAmela had smiled at Trevor, "I might
be wrong about you being a crybaby, if you're not one and you can prove it,
you can masturbate."
She'd looked so good in a pink pullover and tight jeans and she'd ordered
Trevor to go upstairs and come back in a pair of her panties, bringing Gabrielles
No.2 cane, as it was called. Trevor had been forced to pull down the panties
and bend across the sofa for a vicious whipping. Pamela had exercised the cane
for nearly forty-five minutes and Trevor had tried hard not to cry, but then
she'd burst a blister and he'd begun weeping, and PAmela had laughed as she'd
sent Tevor to whine in the corner. There had been no orgasm for that crybaby
that night.
Now, the big man had looked at Trevor contemptously, "Don't give
him all this soft sawder, Pammie." Chisel had said. "I want some
relief here, buddy, and you're going to give it to me." Trevor had stared
at Chisel in astonishment, "Relief?" What the hell did the man mean?
But of course he'd found out, and his jaw had been quite elonogated
from Chisel's cock by the time Pamela allowed him his orgasm around five in
the morning!
And after Chisel "bully trained" Trevor, he'd become even
more the devoted slave-boy to Pamela...
This was the life, she'd thought. He was constantly taking her yachting,
skiing, windsurfing, to dinner. Sometimes Trevor would take Pamela and all
her girlfriends on shopping trips and they'd model their clothes for him back
home as he knelt naked in front of them, drooling. And what did she do in return?
Tying him upside down on the couch and stroking his cock in long slow motions
as she watched her soap operas; making Trevor strip naked excepf for a a collar
and then requiring him to bark like a dog in front of her normal boyfriend,
who laughed his ass off.
Pamela had promised Trevor that she would allow him to jerk off after
Chuckie had left. "But you promised, Miss Pamela...I could jerk off if
I stripped naked and barked like a dog" Pamela had laughed "Kiddo,
if you are dumb enough to do those things, you don't deserve much." Trevor
had burst into tears, and Pamela had ordered him to spend the night in the
car until he could learn to behave himself without having "tantrums." And
then now and then, Trevor would be allowed to jerk off, usually in front of
a a group of her mixed friends...
"C'mon, Trevor, you can now jerk off if you like" Pamela had
said one night as Trevor and she and two other couples had been sitting around
talking foreign policy after a steak dinner. The other two couples had looked
stunned, they were Trevor's business associates,but Trevor, after a pleading
look at Pamela had silently stripped and masturbated in front of five people,
four of whom didn't know he was a sexual slave. Pamela had made it much more
difficult by making Trevor stop and start every now and then..."Oooh,
you're getting close, Trev. Take your hand off your wee-wee now." Trevor
had cried and blubbered during this but finally he'd shot all over the hardwood
floor and licked it up, and all had clapped.
Roy and Frankie-Seventeen Years Later
"This is really nice of you to have me to dinner, Mr. Myers" Chad
said to Roy as he pulled his BMW into the driveway. Chad was very flattered
when the head prosecutor at DC Superior Court had asked him, a humble security
guard to sup with him and Mrs. Myers, who Chad had always thought of as a real
hot older woman. Damn she had good legs!
Even in her late forties, Mrs. Myers would come visit her husband at
work in these great little denim miniskirts. She'd had a few conversations
with Chad, real gracious-like, and the security guard had always enjoyed her
visits, she'd hold his arm, and smile at him, and damn, once or twice she kinda
pushed her bazooms into his arm.
Elroy Myers grinned as he watched Chad's uncertain face. He had seen
the way Chad gazed at Frankie, and she'd specifically asked for him. Miguel
had left two weeks before for a job opportunity in California, and as Frankie
had said "I am getting sick of having to do all the whippings now dear...we
need a new Daddy around here!"
They were going to miss Miguel, the former car-wash attendant, who had
lived at the house for nearly three years. Roy's throat congealed a bit, though,
as he recalled how big Miguel's cock had been as it would stuff Roy's mouth.
Miguel had grown fond of fucking Roy's face as he made out with Frankie on
the couch.
Miguel always focused first on Frankie's beautiful 36DD breasts, just
as Roy had been once allowed to do. The young Salvadorean loved sucking and
kissing the glorious nipples that Roy had been banned from touching with his
lips or hands for nearly two decades now. "Harry up and suck me you maricon!" Miguel
would say as he'd kick Roy in the side, and Roy would bend closer into Miguel's
crotch, Roy's knees feeling shooting pains as he knelt in his pink fishnets
and high heels, sucking and slurping the long brown penis as his wife's lover
kissed her precious breasts.
Generally, Roy wouldn't do a good enough job of blowing Miguel, and
then he'd go over Miguel's knee after the fellatio was over, having his pants
pulled down and getting fifty to seventy-five slams with Miguel's wide leather
belt before being sent to the corner to sob, alone as Miguel took Frankie to
bed for a long, hard, fucking. Before Miguel, Joshua the landscaper had caught
Frankie's eye, and that had been quite a painful six months for Elroy, yessir.
Joshua had quite a muscular right arm, and had bound Roy to the side of the
garage door and lashed him repeatedly with long, thorny branches from Frankie's
rose bushes.
Sometimes it was hard to transform a respectful young man into a proper
Bully-Daddy type. Cody, who had been responsible for cleaning the Myers' pool,
had had quite a difficult time when Frankie had presented him with the concept
that Mr. Myers would become his slave- boy. "Ah unnerstan' the part about
you and me gittin' it on, Mrs. Myers, but whah do ah have to hit Mister Myers?"
Cody had stared curiously at Roy, who was at that time clad in a frilly
pink teddy, and teetering on high heels. "Darling, don't you see?" Frankie
had said "You want to be the head of the jungle. To do that, you have
to take his woman..and it's no fun, unless you're the tough guy." Frankie
had taken Cody in the bedroom for a little prep- talk, or maybe prep-fuck...
Roy hadn't known,but an hour ;later the respectful boy from Kentucky
who had always been shy and deferential around Roy had screamed through the
door, "Git in here, scumbag!" Roy had hurried into the bedroom, teetering
on his heels, and Cody had ordered Roy to suck Cody's balls as Cody slammed
his cock in and out of Frankie's pulsating pussy.
After this, Cody had taken Roy by the hair and thrown him on the floor
and began kicking him savagely, and eventually he'd hung Roy by the nipples
to a cellar chain before going upstairs to fuck Frankie again. Simple Cody
had become Master Conrad to Elroy, and he'd made Roy dance a merry tune.
There had been Danny, the Eagle Scout from down the street. Frankie
and Roy had taken Danny to Yellowstone on a camping trip, and Danny had quite
enjoyed having the tent with Franie while Roy had to huddle in the drizzling
rain the first night. The second day, Danny had chased Roy through the woods
with a scourge, lashing Roy's bare buttocks (Roy was only clad in a frilly
bra that time) and finally giving it to Roy all over the legs after the unhappy
prosecutor had tripped on a tree branch. Then Danny had fucked Frankie on a
park bench while Roy had knelt and kissed Danny's feet.
Franikie had begun communicating with DeAndre while the latter was in
a prison cyber-talk group, and had sponsored his parole. Certainly no parole
board would refuse a release to a man who was going to be looked after by a
prosecutor's wife, and DeAndre had lived with the happy couple for about eight
months before he'd gone into the military.
Roy had learned to live with a huge black cock slamming in and out of
his narrow little asshole nights...and a fear of DeAndre's "woodshed" which
was what DeAndre referred to as the garage, where the muscular black man would
take Roy when he felt that Frankie's poor husband had been acting out with "bad
home training"
Quincy, a roofer who had caught Frankie's eye, had been the strictest
of all the masters in Roy's experience. He had decided that Roy shouldn't be
allowed to go to the bathroom by himself, and had effectively infantilized
Roy to the point that the district attorney had to crawl about the house in
adult diapers.
Quincy and Frankie had keys to the bathrooms, but Roy had to go in his
plastic pants, and then of course, he would be punished, having the crappy
diapers ripped off and enduring a vicious slashing with Quincy's car aerial
Then quite often Roy would have his head locked into a toilet in the basement
for a few hours, with Quincy coming down every now and then to flush. it. Quincy
had also been the strictest about Roy's rare orgasms. When Roy was allowed
very occasionally to jerk off, Quincy would whip Roy's bottom with the car
aerial while Roy was in the midst of masturbation, and did Roy have to concentrate
hard to cum!
Now, Roy looked at Chad, the young security guard he'd brought home.
Chad was tall and blond, and had strong forearms, and looked as if he could
pack quite a wallop. Good. It might take some time to convince the kid that
he was in charge..he always called Roy "Sir" respectfully up until
now,but that had been the case with nearly all of them. Frankie had a disturbing
way of getting these boys to comply with her demonizations. As they walked
in, Chad was profuse in his thanks "Thanks so much for havin' me, Mr.
Myers. This is such an honor."
Frankie greeted them at the door, giving Roy a deep kiss, a thank-you
kiss in a way, and pecking Chad on the cheek. "So nice you've come!" she
said. Chad was sitting down, relaxing, and Frankie brought him a beer. All
these young boys wanted beer. Frankie loved watching Chad's large hand surrounding
the frosted glass, it was so much more appetizing than Roy's ladylike little
fingers. Frankie could imagine Chad's hands circling her breasts, picking her
up and propping her on the kitchen table for a good rogering.
She could see Chad taking off his leather belt with the metal eagle
buckle and ordering poor Elroy to take down his pants and undies and bending
him over the couch, the belt landing again and again on Roy's trembling cheeks,
as the poor bastard squealed like a pig.
"Elroy, why don't you make our drinks..." Frankie said as
the men took off their coats. "Dear, you neglected to clean the upstairs
bathroom this morning before you went to work." Chad looked puzzled, and
Frankie explained, "I put Roy to bed in the evenings about eight- thirty,
that's a good time for naughty boys to get their rest." Roy blushed. "And
then in the mornings he has a few little chores to do, and he's able to get
up at four a.m. And this morning he was supposed to clean all the bathrooms
but he only cleaned three of them."
Frankie looked at Roy sternly as he was pouring the drinks. "Which
means first, you and I have to have a talk in the library later" Roy's
buttocks clinched. "And tomorrow dearest, you'll have to clean that bathroom
along with vacuuming the hallway and the living room and dining room." She
rolled her eyes majestically. "Oh, Chad, I hate it when Roy vacuums in
the morning as it disturbs my sleep, but what's a girl to do?"
Frankie gave Roy a commanding look, and he nodded and went into the
bedroom.She picked up the Cosmopolitan that Roy had mixed for her and sat down
next to Chad, patting his leg, and watching appreciatively as a healthy bulge
pumped up in his security guard khakis. "So tell me about yourself, Chad...do
you have a girlfriend" Frankie smiled inwardly as Chad struggled to speak
as his eyes devoured her breasts, that were nearly spilling out of her flimsy
gown. "Well-I do back home where the folks live,but it's real hard to
meet women here in the city, everyone wants to go out with a lawyer, you know?"
Frankie snickered. "Yes, lawyers are real weenies, though, Chad,
especially government lawyers." With this she cocked her head towards
the bedroom, and Chad giggled and then blushed. "Well, Mr. Myers is an
awful nice guy. He--" Chad looked somewhat startled as Mr. Myers crawled
into the living room, stark naked except for a metal pouch thing around his
crotch area. "Ah, there you are, darling. Master Chad and I have been
waiting for you."
Chad gaped as Roy came up to Chad's feet and pressed his forehead to
the floor and muttered. "I am here at your service, Master." Before
Chad could jump up in horror, Frankie threw one of her magnificent legs over
his lap and plunged her tongue in the young man's mouth, and for a few moments,
Chad forgot everything as they kissed.
It had been a bit of time since Chad had had any sexual contact and
having this lovely lady expertly moving her tongue across his teeth felt good.
But then he noticed Roy again, and became somewhat distraught at the naked
prosecutor prostrate at his feet..but then Mrs. Myers grabbed Chad's head and
shoved it between her breasts. "Kiss them, darling..." Chad became
lost in the soft, beautifully shaped mounds. He thought he could hear Mr. Myers
crying,but he wasn't sure.
Finally, Chad became quite excited, as happens to athletic twenty-two
year olds, and he pulled his pants down and pulled Frankie's panties off and
began screwing her hard upon the couch, Roy still kneeling with his forehead
pressed to the floor. After about ten minutes this was over, and they sat,
disheveled. "Boy, I could use another beer." Roy mumbled. "Order
your slave-boy to get you one." Frankie whispered in his ear. Chad looked
alarmed. "Oh, go ahead. He's not Mr. Myers
anymore...he's your pig-bitch, and I'm your slut." Frankie gave Chad
a big kiss. "Go ahead, be a man."
"Mr. Myers--" Frankie shook her head. "Hey, uh, Pig-boy,
go git me a beer!" Chad ordered in a trembling voice. Roy hopped up and
ran for the kitchen. "And a sandwich or somethin'" Chad shouted as
an afterthought, as he gathered courage. "Good man!" Frankie exclaimed
as she squeezed Chad's inner thigh. "Dinner's coming,but a big man like
you can have both, right?"Moments later, Roy came back with a sandwich
and a beer for Chad, and another Cosmopolitan for Frankie. She noticed that
there was a familiar pressing against the chastity pouch.
Roy resumed his position with his head pressed to the floor as Chad
ate his sandwich and had his beer, occasionally kissing Frankie. "Do you
feel like going at it again, big boy?" Frankie asked Chad, rubbing her
leg against his. "Well, you know, I'm not quite hard again." Chad
said. "We could wait." "Why?" Frankie said amusedly "Roy,
get Master Chad hard with your mouth!" One Month Later Bronko had his
tongue in Royelle's ear in the back seat of his buddy Chad's car. Bronko had
just gotten out of the Air Force, and was grateful that Chad had set him up
with this chick, however homely she was. Bronko hadn't had any pussy in a long
time. Chad's girl Frankie, she was a little old,but quite hot, man...they were
goin' at it in the front seat, and Chad had promised Bronko that Royelle would
give a good BJ. "You can give it to this girl in the mouth or the ass,
man...but don't mess with her cunt, she doesn't ever show it" Chad had
told Bronko with a grin. "But I've had her mouth, and it's niiice."
Royalle had awfully big shoulders and looked like she needed a shave
beneath all that pancake makeup,but maybe she was just one of those Italian
types....they've never really heard of electrolysis, Bronko thought. "C'mon,
Royalle, baby." he breathed in the girl's blonde hair. "Suck my thing." Royalle
whispered back. "Can't I just give you a handjob, honey?" Bronko
got a little louder "Aw c'mon, Royalle, we went to this neat movie and
all." Suddenly, Frankie looked up from Chad's lucky-ass crotch where she
was doing her good work and called into the back seat."Royalle, why don't
you be a good girl and give Master Bronko a good time, you know you can use
that mouth of yours." Bronko gasped. Usually these bitchy chicks backed
each other up in not puttin' out,but how cool was this. "But Frankie..." Royalle
looked like she was begging. "I just..." Then Frankie said in a sweet
voice, "Royalle, I think I'd like to speak to you outside of the car." Royalle
began shaking her head and crying,but Frankie jumped out of the car, and Royalle
followed, and Bronko watched amazed as Frankie began slapping Royalles face,
and kicking her in the crotch. Chad, in the front seat, was grinning. "They're
a couple of spit-fires, huh, Bronko?"
They heard Royalle scream as Frankie threw her across the hood of the
car, rapping on the window for Chad to come out. Bronko watched as Chad came
out and took off his belt and began hitting Royalle on the butt after Frankie
had pulled up Royalle's skirt and pulled down her panties. As Royalle screamed
into the night, Chad lashed her again and again. About five minutes later,
Royalle refreshed her makeup and pulled up her panties and climbed back in
the back seat with Bronko. "Master Bronko" Royalle begged in a tear
soaked voice. "Will you allow me to suck you off, sir?"
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