Divorce Day
Several minutes later, they reached their destination. “Ohh….ohh,” he moaned as she arose, and let him loose. “Hup..two….and arms DOWN,” she ordered, and he lay on the long black upholstered bench, indented in the centre. It came complete with a padded headrest, various shackles appended along its length, and together with a pair of side stirrups. As she shackled his wrists and ironed his ankles again, she mused how George Shagton had known exactly how it all worked….but then he’d had plenty of previous practice with Oh Hell. His son too had poked Pretty Patty in this self-same study, for his very first fuck. Both The Terror Twins were also at the University of Lancashire, in yet another ménage….this time with Relay.
He was the self-professed Purveyor Of Penis, and possibly foremost Cunt Casanova for the Year LXXXVIII. She was looking forward to future fucks from him, as doubtless dearest Davy was doing for Samantha and Patricia Terrier. With a slight smile, she raised the head of the bench slightly. “This means you should be able to watch what’s happening more easily….” she said slyly. It was in the best tradition of all torturers, so suspects could see their source of suffering, “….now it begins to get more interesting.” His tool twitched as she took his testicles in her right hand. “Uhhh,” he moaned, as she stroked the sensitive centre spot encouraging the scrotum to separate. “Ohhh,” he added as she stretched it sideways. Then a coiled cord was pulled parallel inside the left leg, and tied tightly to a testicle. It was repeated with the right.
“As you can see, Messy,” she intoned, “your ankles are ironed up against two corner ratchets. Each is attached to your best bits. By applying exactly the right amount of tension, I’m able to ensure your fun phallus is perfectly positioned for poking purposes,” CLICKK CLICKK CLICKK “….AHHH….AHHH….MA’AM,” he moaned, as she turned one ratchet, and his left testicle was slowly stretched….CLICKK CLICKK CLICKK CLICKK “….AHHH….AHHH….MA’AM,” he gasped again, as its twin was similarly treated, and his twitching tool was tugged upwards. Now she could see he was veering towards the right….CLICKK CLICKK “….AYEEEEE….me balls, MA’AM,” he gasped, as the tension in his left testicle was increased, so his straining shaft was shifted square. Already, his eyes were watering from the testicular torment.
Last of all, she locked the hinged riding rail in place for her halfway handhold. “We’re ready to roll,” she said as she ascended the Bench. Then she stood in the stirrups, with her slit slightly separated from his straining shaft. “Finally,” she said, “your five inch phallus does the despicable deed, although it’s only a pathetic plaything for my pussy’s pleasure.” For so many centuries, the lovely Ladies had continually complained about mere males only wanting them for their cute cunts. Screwing in the Superior style sought some semblance of restitution and revenge….THWACKK “….AHHH….UHHH,” he moaned she struck his sternum, even as she slowly slithered down his straining shaft.
“Wasn’t I worth waiting for?” she asked, teasingly. “Yes, Ma’am,” he muttered….THWACKK “….AHHH….UHHH,” he moaned as she flexed her pelvic muscles. “I don’t have to hump you,” she said softly, “since as you’ve apparently said to all and sundry, I have Conscious Cunt Contraction Control. As a result, I can play your penis, and edge you endlessly without orgasm.” He had the look of someone in hell, which wasn’t far off the truth….THWACKK “….AHHH….UHHH….” THWACKK “….AHHH….UHHH,” he moaned again and again.
Then the door opened, and Lynda Shagton entered the study. She glanced up at the wall clock, and saw it was indeed 7.59am. “Good morning….Ma’am,” she said, noting her black boots. These were sufficient to maintain her prefect’s privileges. “You may begin breakfast,” she said, “which will be for one….” the implication was quite clear….or so she hoped, “….this is all your fault, Messy….” even though it wasn’t, “….Dirty will doubtless be here shortly, and I’ll be wanting him to make my bed, and thoroughly clean the Bench and Bottoms-Up Bar.” Brian Macey gave a grin of guilt, very much akin to the so-called swishees’ smirk. It was often offered by culpable canees in class as a prelude to public punishment. “Err….no, he won’t, Ma’am,” he muttered. “What gives, Messy?” she demanded, “we agreed a Senior Swap for this morning. Has he taken Umbrage?”
Once again, it was with the usual euphemism. “Please, Ma’am,” he said, “I took his pink bowtie….and his place….” his voice trailed off. “It’s down by the door, Ma’am,” Shaggette confirmed from the kitchenette, “I had wondered why.” She stared at him sternly. “Confess your crimes,” she said irritably. “P..Please, Ma’am,” he stammered, “it’s because I desperately desired a Missus’ Mange, serving you with the Naked Waiter wear….” really? “….and it was extremely unlikely I’d be invited….” too true, since they were romantic dinners with convivial company….not complete cretins. They were principally for her preferred prefect peers, and pupils-with-penis In The Pink, but also The Boys In Blue “….UHHH….UHHH….” he moaned as she raised herself on the riding rail. Then she stood in the stirrups, and his straining shaft started to spurt, “….NO….NO….” his penis promptly pumped in ruined orgasm, “….fuck….fuck….fuck,” he moaned in fearful frustration as some semen was shed on his stomach.
She shimmied off the Bench, and withdrew to the wardrobe. There, she replaced her riding boots, and put on her black shower robe again. “All right, Messy,” she said as she approached him again, “I’ll agree to your impertinent request, although you’ll certainly suffer for such shocking subterfuge….” she pursed her lips, “….with a Start-As-You-Mean-To-Go-On beating and Farewell Foursome, also further flogging to follow for all unsatisfactory service. I hope you asked your own junior fag to prepare your breakfast, since you’ll just have to eat late when you return to your study at nine o’clock.” He looked up at her in evident anguish.
“Please, Ma’am,” he said, “I’ve already had a terribly tenderized tush, plus a thorough thirdeen, so perhaps my punishments might be postponed?” It would be one more whack for a caneable Question. “Did you ever win any Caning Contests in The Canteen?” she asked in return, however he shook his head. “No, Ma’am,” he admitted, “I didn’t….although I did try several times. I always ended up crying before the other competitors.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid you’re one of life’s losers, Messy,” she said, pityingly, “however I’ve a solution. Simply tell Davy you’ve graciously decided to let him off his last Private Study Penance….” he stared at her in obvious annoyance, “….and report to me instead. I’ll clear your beat sheet with everything accrued this morning….” she shrugged, “….or you can have all the hits with a horrendously hurting hiney….” she gave him an evil grin, “….or if you prefer, you can get out of here for good. The choice is entirely yours.”
She folded her arms, a gesture of negation. “All right….Ma’am,” he said sadly, “I undertook earlier not to add anything extra to sodding Shagger’s swishing, but it would still have been a fitting flogging finale. For the past year, I’ve regarded his rear as a whipping boy for my failures to fuck your fancy.” So she’d been correct with her earlier assertion. “I’ll let you loose….” she said, “Ohh….ohh,” he moaned as his shackles were released, “….wear your bowtie….” she pursed her lips, thinking about Davy’s Deposition, “….which you will leave with me afterwards. Shaggette will source you some suitable high heels. You didn’t do so at the Summer Balls, so this will be good practice….” he offered a wintry smile, “….you can do Dirty’s duties….” what wit, “….starting with laying the table. Meantime, I shall have a short shower.”
She padded away into the shower room, shed her robe, and soaped herself all over. Then she turned on the tap….bliss, as the wonderfully warm water cascaded down. Should she engage with Wasting Water? Why not….especially as she’d left the door wide open, and her moaning might annoy Messy. She removed the ribbed hosepipe from its hook, and stepped across it. “Ohhh…” she moaned as it scraped between both buttocks, “….UHHH….” she added, pulling harder and separating slit. She’d always really rather relished rope, and this fed her filthy fetish, “….AHHH….AHHH,” she moaned as she increased the temperature to torment her tits.
Wryly, she recalled how Grizzle Guts used to do these things regularly, and been duly disgusted. They were so similar in several respects, as indeed Domme had mentioned after her Mental Makeover. Then she shifted off the hosepipe, and turned the shower setting to the strongest jet. “UHHH….UHHH….UHHH….UHHH,” she moaned, plying her pussy, “….UHHH….yes….YESS….YESS,” she moaned, holding onto one wall since the cubicle was revolving so much.
A dozen cums later, she reckoned it was time for food. She hung up the hosepipe and turned off the tap. Then she stepped out of the shower, and dried herself down. Her hair she could set at some stage, but not now. She replaced her shower robe, and padded out into the main study. Interesting, since she could see both fags engaged in a passionate kiss….SMACKK “….Oww….” he gasped as she smacked his sore seat sharply, and they separated. “I suppose you’ve signed up for sort of sordid sex session, Shaggette?” she asked sourly. “Yes, Ma’am,” she confirmed, “but you know me, and how I’m happy to sell my soul....” or rather slit, “….as quid pro quo….” a Reciprocal Exchange, “….for a hot shower in some stud’s….err….study.”
Neatly put. “It appears you’ve a cheap date, Messy,” she said, “so I suggest you don’t mess it up by making inappropriate comments about The Babes In Blue. I heard it on The Bush Telegraph….” the girls’ grapevine, with a speed of dissemination several times that of light, “….how according to one Brian Macey, for lesser mortals like him it’s called cradle-snatching….” she saw her junior fag smiling, so presumably she’d also heard this villain’s viewpoint independently? “….only one step up from wanking worthlessly….?” he blushed, and stared at the floor, “….how all he cared about was a Quickie Fuckie to shift some semen? Does this square with your sources, Shaggette?”
There was a neat nod. “Yes, Ma’am,” she replied, “since I’ve several firm friends in The Vamps….” dorm 5V, “….apparently he also spent some time going on about how it might not matter to a Cunt Casanova whether or not they got the goods, since there was always plenty more pussy where it….well, came from. But it doesn’t matter to me, since it’s simply some shafting for a shower.” Possibly she’d be a candidate for the Year XCI Sex Slut of St Stricktlands School? However, it would be for her unworthy successor to decide.
“Enjoy,” she said, “however it’ll still be another two on both your beat sheets. It’s one for Dereliction of domestic duties, since you should have been working hard. Secondly, there’s one for Conduct Unbecoming….” the kissing and cuddling, “….which you know is prohibited….” why she bothered beating her bottom was another matter, since she enjoyed it so much. But it was still fun flogging floozies’ fannies. Dearest Davy had always assured her how she leaned ’levedy ’leven, the same as Georgie Boy. Had she really wanted to punish her, it would have been with an icy shower for a quarter of an hour.
She suffered from a form of frigophobia, which was a fear of cold things….especially water, “….as for Messy, there’s also a caneable Question, various Vulgarities and a Disrespectful Reference to a prefect. Meantime, I want my breakfast….SNAPP “….jump to it.” They both scurried away, and she padded to her study table. As she sat down, she reflected at least it had been laid properly. Then she picked up her clip board, and made a new sheet for Messy.
St Stricktlands School – Fagging Beat Sheet for:- Brenda Smith
Senior/Junior fag (delete as applicable):- Brian Macey Sheet
no:- 1
Dorm:- 6W School Term and Year:- Summer, LXXXIX
For the use of Prefects only. When all whacks on this sheet have been taken, it should be delivered to the School Secretary. This enables the punishments detailed thereon to be transcribed onto the scholar’s Discipline Report. Please write neatly and legibly, otherwise penalties may be applied.
She was well aware of those, having found them out the hard way by kind courtesy of Air Gun and Bête Noir. Her utterly unexpected dozen due had stung all evening….made much worse, since she’d subsequently been subbie whilst playing In The Pink. She’d taken a trip to dorm 6R, and The Six R♂gues. They’d spanked and slippered her soundly at her suggestion. Afterwards, it had been a very satisfactory screwing session in her study with Wicked. He was a sixdy-sixdy switch, and now a Confirmed Cunt Casanova. But they’d both been beaten first by Marcus Tennant. Edward Wick had received six strokes….three for being Out Of Dorm after curfew, and the same again for failing an erection inspection.
She’d taken a total of ten, since she’d also been Undressed, the caneable crime for collecting her defenestrated clothes from the quadrangle courtyard. This would normally have made a nasty nine, but he’d added another for wiggling her waist….Incitement. This therefore tidily made it ten marks from Mark X. Even so, she strongly suspected he’d preferred punishing Wicked’s pert posterior. Her prefect peer was a gay guy, having hailed from dorm 6G and The Six Gays in Year LXXXVIII. Now she recorded Messy’s culpable crimes….taking great care to write neatly.
1. +++ Last Sunday of term, Senior Swap +++
2. Sex Thrashing, thorough thirdeen - Taken
3. SAYM T’GO: 4 - Farewell Foursome: 4
4. Contact unbecoming (with junior fag): 1 – Dereliction of Domestic Duties: 1
5. Various Vulgarities: 4- Disrespectful Reference to prefect: 1 - Question: 1
All his accumulated AHH with The Big Weal couldn’t count, since it wasn’t caning. Most likely the last three items would be increased before they were through? She set down her clipboard where she could easily reach it, whilst looking forward to the Naked Waiter wear. Given the bowtie and high heels it was always a slight misnomer, but not enough to make much difference. Obviously if his standard were unsatisfactory, it would mean more whacks.
* * * *
Big Ben was striking for 2.15pm in the middle distance as she hurried towards The Rectory. Hardly punctual….but Brides-to-be were allowed to be late. When making the meeting with the Reverend Carmen Jones, she’d completely forgotten about being Refectory Monitor….almost certainly for the final time. She’d enjoyed administering a Last Out caning to one of The Yellow Perils….who was it? Yes….one Andover First, of dorm 2D. He was doubtless destined to become a Dominant dolt in the D series, and she’d enjoyed taking him down with proper Put-You-In-Your-Place punishment. He’d seethed so satisfactorily, when swished soundly.
She’d added another couple of cuts for being a Cocky Little Blighter, so Hand Over Fist of The Dem♂ns had ended up with a nasty nine. Still, it was a Sunday, so it wasn’t as if he’d any afternoon school with which to accumulate more agonies onto an aching arse. There was no sign of dearest Davy, so either he’d already gone inside….or was in dorm U? Cautiously, she knocked on the door. “Entarrrr,” called out an ecclesiastical voice, so she opened it. She stepped inside to see Davy’s shoes by the door, so he HAD survived his ordeal. They were both seated on a settee….possibly rather closer than she’d have expected from a Lady of the cloth? She wasn’t at all bad looking, and dearest Davy had said she’d designs on his delectable derrière.
“I’m so sorry to be a little late, Carmen,” she said politely, “but the Refectory doesn’t close until two o’clock, and I was on lunch duty.” The Parish Priest waved away her objection. “Shagger explained,” she said, “do take a seat. Anyway, it’s allowed me some discussion with your belovéd….” she selected an easy chair opposite them, “….one possible problem is the congregation, since there’s only so much pew capacity in St Eſſtrickts….” always spelled with the old-fashioned long S, “….so I’m suggesting we set our service outdoors, at three o’clock. If it’s raining….well, the Wet Look is always a further form of fetish.” She nodded. “Which seems sound,” she agreed, “we’ve already agreed dress codes, since it’ll definitely be a Dominatrix do. All mere males will have the Naked Waiter wear with Naccatape, whereas I shall be Miss Whiplash in white….” his penis promptly pulsed, so she was onto a winner, “….but the three Bridesmaids will be Burdizzo Babes.”
Amen Carmen’s mouth curled. “I saw them at the Summer Balls,” she said, “with you included. Presumably they’ll be Shirley Greene, plus Myfanwy and Ursula Smith….making your ménage-à-cinq?” She patted his penis, perhaps not entirely professionally. “Yes,” he agreed, “The Green Goddess, Miffy Smiffy and Uncle Sam….which does bring up the little matter in the marriage service about forsaking?” A good point. “It’ll be amended to read, ‘and forsaking no others,’ to avoid the problem,” she said, “and at the appropriate point, I’ll make you Open-Wife and open-husband….” she shrugged, “….I’ve explained I can’t marry him to Miffy in the future, so she’ll have to settle for some sort of civil service. However you can still hold it here, since we’ve two rampant rampallion Registrars on the Staff.” She had a sudden suspicion? “Maybe Air Gun and Bête Noir?” she suggested sourly. “Yes,” the Parish Priest confirmed, “now….will you be given away by your stepfather….?” she shook her head, “….Davy’s Mum will give HIM away,” she said, “which is far more fitting. He should be the chattel, not me.”
She watched whilst Amen Carmen made notes. “Who’ll be second-best man?” she asked. “Raymond Lee,” he replied, “since we’re firm friends, and he offered last year.” During their time together at the Pennance Reformatory….although he ought to check Relay was still happy to help? But it would probably be fine. “What about rings?” she asked. “I’ll have a traditional one,” she replied, “whereas Davy will wear a Wedlock on his willy. It should be the same for all the other married men, and the single studs will be….well, shafted with Kali’s Teeth Bracelets….” what wonderful wit, since they were a cylindrical set of sharp spikes, “….which should stop them hitting on the Bridesmaids….or anyone else. I’ll also add a conventional collar and leash, so he can crawl along the aisle afterwards….” she paused, “….he’ll have had to, ‘love honour and obey,’ whereas for me it’ll only be the first two.” Which probably covered most matters….for the moment.
“Stand up, Shagger,” she ordered, “preferably in the Position For Pain.” He duly did so, spreading his legs, bending both knees, and leaning backwards slightly. Then she watched whilst Amen Carmen slowly removed her dog collar. “Ohh,” he moaned as she threw it over his pulsing penis. “It’s sort of like hoop-la at the fairground….” she said wryly, as she stood similarly and slipped off her robes, “….except it’s easy, only a few feet from the phallus.” Oops….since underneath she was a Reformatory Guard. The regalia was a seriously strict Mistress suit which featured a tight white militaristic top with shoulder flashes to signify authority, some seamed stockings, black boots and matching miniskirt. Oo..er, since she could see some sort of scourge.
“We’ve dealt with the professional parts,” she continued, “so now it’s time for some personal pleasures….if you’ve no objections, Missus? This may be my last opportunity for quite a while to beat his neat little bottom, since it’s simply Asking for the cane.” So another two dollars for Davy’s mythical collection, of when it was complimented. “So long as I get to see the Gonads Guillotine in action,” she replied. Oops….since she’d seen what dearest Davy called her № 2 Look. It was when the Parish Priest bared her teeth, whilst her eyes flashed fire. ‘I’m going to castrate you,’ was clearly the reply. “Can you say why I shouldn’t swish you soundly, Shagger?” she asked. “No, Ma’am,” he muttered, “but I CAN say why you should….starting with my lamentable Lateness….” as indeed Relay had taught him last year, Always be some six minutes late for a disciplinary Domme, as it enabled an entrée into Put-You-In-Your-Place punishment, “….next, it’s Staring At Skirts and Leching Longingly Like A Loser. Then it’s another three for the Thrill Of A Thrashing.”
Amen Carmen stared into his eyes, and held his neck with one hand….WHUMPH “….UGHHH,” he moaned as he fell forward following a knee in the nuts….WHUMPP “….URGHHH,” he added at a boot in the balls. As he lay whooping on the floor, she saw the № 1 as she pouted her lovely lips and stood across his body, ‘It was only a little kick in the crotch,’ it seemed to suggest. “Another three for Spying Up Skirts, Shagger?” she asked. “Uhhh….yes, MA’AM,” he moaned. “Assume the Position For Punishment,” she ordered, “and we’ll say staccato style in threes.” Somewhat shakily, he arose and bent down for a beating.
SWISHHHTHWACKKKK SWISHHHTHWACKKKK SWISHHHTHWACKKKK
“Yeee..HEEE..EEEE….THREE, thank you MA’AM,” he yelped, “I’m so sorry for Staring, Leching and Lateness, Ma’am.” Cheap at the price, since she could have made it more.
SWISHHHTHWACKKKK SWISHHHTHWACKKKK SWISHHHTHWACKKKK
“Yikes..YIKES..YIKES….SIX, thank you, MA’AM,” he gasped, “I’m sorry for Spying, Ma’am.”
SWISHHHTHWACKKKK SWISHHHTHWACKKKK SWISHHHTHWACKKKK
“YEOWWW..OWWW..WOWW….NINE,” he gasped, “a nasty nine, thank you, MA’AM. I’m sorry for my shaft’s sins. Thank you for a thoroughly therapeutic thrashing, Ma’am. I know I needed it….” suddenly she spotted her № 3 Look. It was the sly sideways smile, which was surely, ‘how about pleasing pussy?’ Had he seen it too? “….I’m happy to offer oral appreciation if you wish….” SLAPP “….Ahhh….” SLAPP “….Ahhh,” he gasped. “SUCH a shocking suggestion, Shagger,” she said, rolling up her miniskirt in the manner of the Tart’s Trademark, “but I thought you’d never ask….” idly, she considered the two completely conflicting statements.
Surely it was little wonder when mere males moaned about mixed messages? “….so get into the Position For Pleasuring. Don’t worry about Humping Harlots with head or hair, I want some Tickling Tarts with tongue, since I’m totally turned on….” he knelt naked whilst she spread her legs, “….needless to say, there’ll be some simultaneous strafing of shoulders and seat for such sin….” it might also be scrotum, which as a plums pain pervert he’d rather relish? “….Uhhh….uhhh,” she moaned as he tackled her twat. “I shall scourge you soundly, Shagger….uhhh….you’ll pay for my pleasure….uhhh….with plenty of pain.” Dearest Davy had told her about his sample scourging session. As it was extracted from the boot, she saw eleven lengths of long leather, each knotted nastily at irregular intervals.
She’d said it was very vapulational….were it a word, and also extremely erotic….Thwackk “….AHHH,” Thwackk “….AHHH,” Thwackk “….AHHH,” Thwackk “….AHHH,” he gasped at each stroke. Surely scourging was some sort of subliminal stimulation, and a straight substitute for sex? She shivered slightly, as her own subbie side suddenly sought the same. “UHHH….UHHH,” she moaned, “Stop It I like It….” Quod Erat Demonstrandum, or Thus It Has Been Proved….Thwackk “….AHHH,” Thwackk “….AHHH,” Thwackk “….AHHH,” Thwackk “….AHHH,” he gasped, “Bite it, bastard boy….” definitely another pussy pain pervert, “….UHHH….UHHH….YESS….YESS….get those legs apart,” Thwapp “….UGHHH,” Thwackk “….UGHHH….YESS….YESS….YESS,” he moaned in ruined orgasm….so QED again. Her chest heaved, and clearly she was on cloud nine….Thackkk “….who said anything about stopping, Shagger,” she muttered, giving him another № 3 Look.
According to the wall clock, it was a further fifteen minutes later, coupled with countless cums, before she was sinfully satisfied. “Thank you, Shagger….uhhh,” she said, “I appreciate all your efforts….” she smiled suddenly, “….well up to Georgie Boy’s standard yesterday….” so Davy’s philandering father had taken a trip to the Rectory, in addition to all his other amorous assignations, “….after he and Helen had talked through some more of the wedding arrangements….from the groom’s parents’ perspective….” she turned towards her, “….I subsequently spoke to YOUR Mother and stepfather as well, Missus….” but had Uncle Jack had engaged in any naughtiness? “….no….” she replied, her apparent mind reading abilities working well, “….since I’m sorry to say he seemed a Dominant dolt, without any interest in cunnilingus or suitable scourging.” All of which was fair comment. “You might have better luck with my real father, William Henry Smith,” she said, “since his Mistress of the moment is a disciplinary Domme. I don’t know her name, although I might when we meet on the big day.”
He stood slowly, even as the Reverend Carmen Jones returned her skirt to its proper position. “It’s time,” she said, “to discover whether he’s absolutely an orchid….” what? “….a gratuitous grandiloquism, with the word Anorchid meaning lacking in testicles….” Ohh, “….let me uncover the Gonads Guillotine….” they moved across the room, and she shifted a large sheet. It revealed a five foot tall, six inch wide black metal frame, bearing several shackles. However the principal point of interest was the gleaming diagonal blade, “….Shagger’s sampled it once before, and his scrotum still survived. I gave him chapter and verse, so I’ll ask him to provide a potted history. It’ll be interesting to see how much he’s remembered….possibly rather more than the material in my RE classes.”
He nodded wryly, not choosing to dispute the allegation. “It was a General Studies project,” he recited, “by one Cathryn….spelled with a K….” fine, “….Castalian who made it. She was known as Castration Kate, one of Ma’am’s pretty prefect peers in Year LXII. Despite its popularity, Thrasher Thring was worried about litigation. Although the likelihood of an accident was low, the risk was absolute, so he impounded it….” certainly parents might be more than mildly miffed if their son was suddenly sans scrotum….or indeed a dick, “….some years later, when Ma’am had been appointed Parish Priest, she approached The Professor. She signed a disclaimer, and it was released it into her charge.”
Amen Carmen licked her lips. “Very good, Shagger,” she said, “such a shame you couldn’t recall all the Beatitudes last week. Would you care to continue, and expound upon its modus operandi using your distended dick as demonstration, since it’s such a subject dear to you?” She could see a straining shaft, so his psyche was clearly captivated. “I just push my penis through the aptly-named Hole Of Hell,” he said, gesturing towards it, “and from my perspective, the important part is two stout metal brackets which slide into place when it’s operated in safe mode. They stop the blade an inch before anything unfortunate can happen….although it’s probably the longest second I’ve ever experienced this side of eternity. However, there was always the outside possibility the operator would forget….” Ouch, “….which was why Wodin wasn’t taking chances with a possible penectomy. I’d be permanently pleasing, rather than poking pussy....” he stepped onto the metal base, and presented his penis. Then he shivered slightly, and gratefully withdrew it again, “….perhaps a dummy demonstration in strike mode?”
She nodded, and positioned a plastic phallus. Amen Carmen wound up the blade, whilst she looked on in sick fascination….WHEEEE….CLUNKK “….Ohhh,” he gasped, even though it hadn’t been his fancy in the firing line. She stared stupidly as both halves of the severed shaft fell onto the floor, and his own strained even more from the suggestion of separation. The Parish Priest moved forward, and adjusted the safety brackets. “This time we go for the gonads, Shagger,” she said, “although we won’t worry with the clockwork timer release today.” She ironed his ankles. “Ohh,” he moaned as he pushed his balls through the Hole Of Hell. Then he held his arms high, and she shackled his wrists. “I assume it’s set in safe mode, Ma’am?” he asked anxiously. “Yes,” she confirmed, “at least I think so.” Obviously he had a castration complex, but then so did many millions of mere males. “NO,” he gasped, even as she saw her № 2 Look all over again. “I told you last time how I really do like Naccatape, Shagger,” she said sweetly, “as it gets the gonads gathered for grief. Would you offer your services for stress relief?”
He nodded. “Yes, Ma’am,” he muttered, “I’ll be a balls bulb boy for you….” she took hold of his trapped testicles, in the same style as an old-fashioned motorcar horn from yesteryear, “….UGHHH….UGHHH….” he moaned, adding the sickly smile required of him, “….BEEP BEEP.” His body was quite clearly visible on either side of the guillotine….including his face of fear. “I’ll just wind it up again, Shagger,” she said, wryly, “or maybe I might mean winding YOU up….?” both, she suspected, as she watched the blade slowly rising, “….you know you have to trust me….” she mouthed him a kiss, “….is it actually IN safe mode….?” clearly she was tool teasing, “….might I have accidentally left it in strike mode….or perhaps on purpose?” He struggled uselessly against the shackles. “NO….mercy, Ma’am,” he moaned. “No mercy indeed, Shagger….” the same sentiments as applied to Messy earlier, “….so should I sanction the severance of your scrotum....?” he shivered, “….are you ready for the Off….?” ha bloody ha, “….gird your loins….although obviously you can’t.” He gritted his teeth….WHEEEE….CLUNKK “….AYEEEEE,” he shrieked in sheer terror. Then it stopped an inch off the action.
“Shall we do it again, Missus?” she asked, politely. “No thanks,” she replied, “one dice with Davy’s doom will do. She set about releasing his shackles, and he withdrew his wherewithal, “I hope you don’t get about ideas about Burdizzo Babes with my balls, Bren,” he muttered. Those black-booted brunette beauties, who took off testicles as trophies and put them in pickling pots. But it had clearly been spoken with some subaudition, itself a good grandiloquism, where one needed to read between the lines. Obviously he was hoping she DID have ideas, since they each enjoyed castration play. “Dear me, Davy,” she said, “you seem to have shed some semen.” He nodded. “Apparently it happens often,” he replied, “as the bad boys are always afraid it’s a case of amen….Carmen.” What wit.
“Thanks, Carmen,” she said, “there’s just one other thing, since my subbie side’s seeking some similar scourging.” The Parish Priest smiled. “I’ve Sunday Special shortly,” she replied, “however, I’m sure Shagger should suffice. I’ve a horrid habit, which I’ll lend you for later.” What? “She means her Dominican monk’s black habit,” he explained, “plus the key to The Cloisters, Ma’am?” She nodded. “You can return everything to me after assembly tomorrow morning, Missus,” she said, gesturing towards the door, “wait here.” They did so, whilst dearest Davy put on his shoes. Seconds later, she returned, handing him a carrier bag. “There are suitable scourges where you’re headed,” she said, “and also a little something extra….since the habit can cover a multitude of sins.”
She saw his mouth move, so this was obviously an in-joke. “Mmmm,” she moaned as she kissed him soundly. “Should I ever quit my ministry,” she said when they’d separated, “and don’t have to stay semi-celibate, I’ll be seeking some suitable screwing from those seven inches of circumcised sin….” SMACKK “….Oww….” SMACKK “….Oww,” he gasped as she smacked his seat smartly, “….get thee behind me, Satan….but preferably in front, for fucking my fancy.” He opened the front door, and gestured for her to go first. “Until the end of August, Carmen,” he said, “unless you attend Summer School?” She nodded. “Most certainly,” she said, “since my short sermons on the subject of sexual sin are allowed to be….well, somewhat explicit, and my R E lessons have sample sessions of scourging for the sweet subbies.” Oo..er, yes MA’AM.
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