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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