Newsletter - July 2023

 

A slightly earlier newsletter than normal, since there’s an extra Friday in June.

 

Chapter 243 has now been fully published.

 

Tomorrow will be July and hence Chapter 244 will be emailed complete to everyone on this delivery option. For Blogspot readers, the first quarter will commence next Friday.

 

For August, there is everything penultimate about Chapter 245, since it IS the next-to-last. It is one of a pair, written from Kelly Morgan’s perspective, and is timelined in the Spring of Year XC at The Styx. Shagger returns for two of several conjugal calls, one for Karen Eis and the other for her. There are also his reflections on Summer School for Year LXXXIX. Obviously, it’s adult erotic entertainment, whilst all the august alumni revisit the rattan.

 

Enjoy, and best swishes,

Dave

 

 

slave's sucking spanking

Chapter 243 - part (4) of (4)

 Capital Punishments

 

He waited until he’d finished his main course. “The Guards are all gals,” he continued, “which would work well for you as a Bi Babe. Their regalia is a seriously strict Mistress suit which features a tight white militaristic top with shoulder flashes to signify authority, some seamed stockings, pointed black boots and matching miniskirt. Also, they all carry an Officer’s crop….” her eyes were glazed, this time well away on Planet Guard, “….I was phoning Sexy Sammy, who was once my frightful fagmistress. She and her twin Sister are both classically Celtic blonde beauties, with clear-blue eyes….” and captivating Celtic cunts, “….forgive me, but you don’t appear particularly Cornish.”

 

She shrugged. “Mummy’s a Saxon slut from Surrey,” she said, “so I’ve inherited the same stature….and psyche.” JameS CricK removed the empties, and the desserts appeared. “Coostard, Madam and Sir?” he asked, his Northern roots suddenly apparent. The accent made the letter U into a sort of OO, rhyming with Cook, and they each acquiesced. “How long does it last?” she asked. “Officially it’s a maximum of a month,” he replied, “the idea being to ensure the inmates are mired in mental misery. However it’s not normally more than a week.”

 

She smiled. “So, Shagger,” she said seriously, “you’re on your way there….and I’m doing nothing of importance. Could I just tag along with you….as a gaolbird.” He took a mouthful of strudel. “Cell House Holidays IS opening the facility to its regular paying guests,” he said, “but subject to space, there’s no problem. We wouldn’t be able to advise anyone until arrival, so there’s a small chance you’d end up in a hotel, and go home the following day. If you’re willing to chance it, I suggest we pop along to the guards van when we’re finished, and speak to Louisiana about an extra ticket.” Actually he was rather hoping it WOULD work out, since she was made for the place.

 

“White or black, Madam?” asked JameS CricK, holding two jugs. “Half and half please,” she replied, and her coffee was poured. “For you, Sir?” he asked. “The same,” he replied. “Do forgive the impoodence, Sir,” he continued, decanting a second cup, “but your face seems familiar. Would you by any chance have attended St Brides School in Soockby?” He shook his head. “No….” he replied, and then had another thought, “….you may be thinking of my third cousin….Harry Herbert Orwell. We’ve several similarities in stature….” and psyche, “….I rather recall he once went to St Bridles.”

 

Jiminy Cricket smiled widely. “It’ll be him, Sir,” he replied, “he were in my class, though he left to attend soom posh place….” the unmerited epithet for St Sticks, “….I never made it into the 6^th form, so I took this job on BritisH RailwayS. I hope he’s doing well?” Yes and no. “He’ll be a prefect next term,” he confirmed, “but as we speak, he’s on six days of Solo Summer School. You wouldn’t enjoy it, being four hours of fun-filled Physics daily with discipline, and Domestic Duties done in a situation of semi-sexual slavery.” The jugs both shook slightly. “Ouch,” he said, “thanks for the oopdate, Sir.”

 

He went his way. “I’d have liked it,” she remarked. “I attended last year, Licia,” he said, taking a sip, “and it wasn’t easy. Still, it DID prove beneficial, since I achieved a grade A at A-Level. For me, some sound stick has always proved a better bet than the carrot.”

 

Then he saw the Conductress approaching again….which would save them a trip. “Excuse me, Ma’am,” he said, “might my charming companion purchase an extra ticket? She needs a First Open return from LiskearD to PennancE RoaD….starting right now.” She nodded. “I’ll write her an Excess,” she replied, “and bring it whilst you’re settling up. By which time, I’ll have found the fare from the Selective Prices Manual.”

 

She left, to be replaced by FranciS CaseY holding a pen, plus notepad. “Both bills together, Sir?” he asked, writing quickly. “Yes, please,” he confirmed as it was placed onto his side plate. He picked it up when the waiter had moved to the next table, and saw it bore a total of NP22:60. Clearly, railway repast wasn’t cheap, and he handed it to her. She opened her handbag, and nonchalantly extracted a NP30 note….three dozen new-pounds. “This’ll amply cover their tip,” she said, putting it onto the plate, “I doubt they earn a massive salary.” Nice of her to notice the lower orders….although maybe it was noblesse oblige?

 

Then LouisE YarN appeared again. “Here’s your ticket, Madam,” she said, “and it’s exactly eleven new pounds.” She accepted it, and handed over a NP10 note. “I don’t need the change,” she said. “I’m sorry, Madam,” she replied, “but only the catering team are allowed to accept gratuities. Shall I put the pound on the plate?” She nodded, and the note was added to the pile. “Safe journeys,” she said, with a wide wink, “and enjoy your time together.” Most likely not….as she walked away.

 

Then they both arose. “We’d best find some seats….” she said, picking up her handbag, “….since they’ll be serving a second sitting soon….” he took his attaché case, and followed her, passing JameS CaseY who was writing another bill, “….I’ve left cash, and keep the change.” He nodded. “Thank you, Madam,” he said, as they left the restaurant car. It was two carriages further along before they found an otherwise empty compartment, and stepped inside. “Ahhh,” they both gasped again, taking the two window seats, setting down their modest luggage beside them.

 

“I enjoyed my starter swishing at your so-called Soviet School, Shagger,” she said, “having always craved the cane in class.” He shrugged. “You’ll get plenty of painful public posterior punishment,” he confirmed, “and suffer from a seriously sore seat for most of your stay.” She shivered slightly. “My slit still smarts,” she said, “how long will it take for this sodding StricktCream to wear off?” He shrugged. “Hours, I’m afraid,” he replied, “and it’s the same with the P5, as Sari said. We simply sit and suffer for our sins….” he glanced out of the window, and saw they’d stopped at WestburY, “….I hate to be a poor travelling companion, but the lunch is taking its toll. I had a very broken night….despite some catching up whilst unconscious. It’ll mean missing the best scenic sections on the route, but I shall HAVE to sleep.”

 

She smiled sweetly. “Screwing slits does take it out of you, Shagger….” possibly put it in would be more accurate? “….but I know what you mean. Sari had me in predicament bondage for much of my time yesterday evening, and I was still bound to the bed when she left. She gave the night porter instructions to release me at any time after three o’clock.” He smiled. “I was similarly shackled,” he replied, “but bonked by two seriously strict Sirens….even before Sari arrived, and made it three. In reverse circumstances it could be called gang-rape.” She sniggered. “Studs should simply lie back and enjoy it,” she said without sympathy, “and be grateful they’re getting the goods.”

 

Apparently, the running gag was still going. “Where was your hotel?” he asked instead, “I assume a No Tell one? She nodded. “It’s called The Tough Brief,” she replied, “since its location is nearby The Old Bailey. Apparently all manner of legal eagles use it for nightly nooky. I’ve seen High Court Judges in there on occasion….with naughty nubiles unlikely to be their wedded Wife.” Thus high-class Happy Hookers….as he closed his eyes.

 

Seconds later it seemed, he opened them to discover he was Spying Up Skirts. “A wonderful way to awaken,” he murmured, “I didn’t know you’d neglected naughty knickers.” She was sitting staring, whilst stroking her spread slit. “It still sodding well stings,” she grumbled, checking a watch with her free hand, “however it’s twenty five past eight….uhhh….and we should be arriving shortly.” He smiled wryly. “Best take it off, Licia,” he urged, “since you won’t need it where we’re going.”

 

 

She duly did so, and put it into a pocket. “It makes a change from being invited to take off anything else,” she said, tartly. “Your handbag and clothes will be stored safely until you’re released….whenever it might be,” he explained, “ours is an open station, so you shouldn’t need to show your ticket….” he felt the train slowing, “….it’s time to go.” They both arose, and he followed her out of the compartment. Together, they stepped out onto the platform, and he inspected the familiar sign.

 

PennancE RoaD

 

“Oo..er….yes Mesdames,” she muttered with apparent adoration as The Terror Twins strutted towards them. They were turning heads in the process, being both fully adorned in their Reformatory regalia. “Hello, David….” said Sexy Sammy, hugging him hard, “….who’s this, Shagger?” asked Pretty Patty, as she did the same, “have you been up to your old tricks again….” essentially yes, “….collecting crumpet,” she concluded. “May I introduce Lady Alicia Ariadne Anouska Helen Harborne,” he replied, “to Samantha and Patricia….the Terrier Twins….” they all shook hands, “….she’d like to be a gaolbird as paying guest, should there be space?”

 

The Terror Twins glanced at each other. “Yes, David,” said Sexy Sammy, “although we’ve presently two such, at least for a while. It’s Appalling….” Andrea Pawling, one of his prefect peers, “….and The Ice Queen ….” Kirstin Eis, which was a surprise, “….apparently several of her firm friends were in The Six Jailbirds….” dorm 6J, “….and she’d discussed the joys of incarceration with them often enough….” she paused, “….I suppose you’re a subbie slut?” She nodded. “Most certainly….Ma’am,” she muttered, “and a Bi Babe, to boot….” she stared down, “….which you’re most welcome to do.” What wonderful wit….as they continued off the platform and past the booking office.

 

Then it was into the station car park where PEN 1S was waiting. “This MUST be Ray’s,” he said wryly, “possibly the most potent purveyor of penis for Year LXXXVIII.” They nodded as it was unlocked. “You can both sit in the back,” said Sexy Sammy, taking the driver’s seat, “I’m not bothered about back-row liberties, since I suspect it’s much too late. I suppose you’ve already screwed each other?” The heiress smiled sweetly. “Yes….” she admitted as they climbed inside, “….Ahhh,” she added, sitting down, as he did the same.

 

She started the engine, and then they were away. “Have you explained how Reformatories work….any why, David?” asked Sexy Sammy, now driving at some speed. Hadn’t his philandering father warned him about fast floozies in fast cars? Alas no….although maybe he ought to have done? “Yes,” he confirmed, “and what gaolbirds get up to….in addition to their own programmes of punishment.” OMG….they were now up to 80mph. “Do you have some specific sin, Licia?” asked Pretty Patty, “which you’d like addressed? Shagger’s is normally for being a sex-pest and public pervert.”

 

 

There was a wry smile. “I can well understand,” she agreed, “having watched Peter Purvis’ performance at On-Stage Stooge yesterday evening. But in my case, it’s always been exposure and playing with pussy in public. I know it’s naughty, but can’t seem to kick the habit.” Something with which he could sympathize. “She’s good at teasing tools on trains, too,” he interjected. “What about instruments of punishment?” she probed. “I can confirm she takes the tawse to tits, tush and twat, Sammy,” he said, “and craves the cane. She also suffered some scourging….as indeed did I. It’s one reason why we’re somewhat sore.”

 

 

She squeezed his hand in confirmation. “Shagger’s quite correct,” she agreed, “but I do have a special request. Could you kindly phone Mummy at Liskeard Castle? Tell her I’m fine, and taking a few days’ break by the seaside.” There were two neat nods. “You’ll enjoy being a gaolbird,” said Pretty Patty, absently as they reached the small fishing village. “Will you want prepayment?” asked AAAHH. “No,” said Sexy Sammy, “since we won’t know the length of your stay until you leave. But I’m sure your credit’s good.”

 

PENNANCE

INCORPORATED UNDER MEDIÆVAL CHARTER

 

“You’ll find out what this means, Licia,” he said, “when doing the Shocking Shopping.” It wasn’t far to their destination, and he saw the large hanging sign as they parked outside.

 

Cell House Holidays (prop. Ms Margaret Whapshott)

 The Old Police Station, Bottom Lane, Pennance, Cornwall UK, TR69 4SM.

Tel: 0800 AKTB4U

  

“Here we are,” said Sexy Sammy unnecessarily, as they all emerged. “I’d rather not use the Knacker Knocker,” he said, “since it brings tears to the eyes. Perhaps Licia might do so….?” he waved her on ahead up the stone steps, “….it’s modelled on male meat. To operate, simply strike the scrotum with the straining shaft.” She smiled….TAT TAT. The door was opened by a bald middle-aged man wearing only a pretty pink frilly apron with the words unisex slave stencilled across it, plus a pair of pink high-heeled shoes. “Hello, Shagger,” said Gerald Genial, “I’d heard you were on your way.”

 

 

He stood aside, and they all entered. “Greetings….Geraldine,” he replied, “who’s currently a Maid, since his scrotum is stashed inside. Guests may elect to be a macho male maid, but it means their balls are beaten.” Actually they were anyway, but rather more often. “We’ll report to The Robing Room, David,” said Sexy Sammy, “which is something you didn’t do here last year.” Having been knocked out with Chloral Hydrate, kidnapped from his home, and awoken in a cell.

 

The Robing Room

 

He followed the lovely Ladies inside and saw it was similar to the one at Hell-in-her-Hole. It was almost empty, apart from some shelving and a large tripod, complete with camera One wall was covered with clothes, whereas a second was filled with photos of felons. They all seemed similar, since their heads and scrotums were shaved. Inevitably, they were flaunting their fancies in flagrant fashion. It was similar to the annual Mag Mug shots at The Styx, only much more brazen. He set down his attaché case by an otherwise empty peg and started to strip, whilst Lady Alicia did the same.

 

 

Then they stood starkers, hands held behind heads, as Pretty Patty picked up a large electric razor. “Spread your legs, GUEST 13045,” she said, “actually, your hair’s not very long. When did you last attend a Reformatory?” He smiled. “During the Easter holidays….Ma’am,” he replied, now naked, “at Helmsdale-in-the-Hole. It’s the one run by Ms Deborah Maddon, which I mentioned when you visited The Styx.” BZZZZZ it went, as she switched it on. “No more Impertinently Imparting Information….” she growled as his pubic hair became history….BZZZZZ “….kneel, and I’ll apply another compulsory crew cut.” BZZZZZ….as it all fell to the floor….BZZZZZ….ZZZZZZ.

 

 

“Now it’s your turn, Alicia,” she said, “gaolbirds have their hair tied back tightly in a bun, which we’ll worry about tomorrow, however we remove everything else. Under arms, if any….” there wasn’t, “….plus pussy.” She spread her legs without protest….BZZZZZ “….Ohh….” ZZZZZZ “….Ohh….MA’AM,” she muttered, “it’s so hideously humbling.” Which was the general idea….and they’d hardly started. “Next,” said Sexy Sammy, “we’ll apply all your smooth steel slave shackles.”

 

She affixed his collar and cuffs, followed by a waistband, and ankle irons with a short connecting chain. “Oo..er, Ma’am….” said AAAHH as something sinister was taken out of a small cardboard carton, “….I’ve never seen one of these before.” Sexy Sammy gave an evil grin. “They’re new this year,” she said, handing her the box, “read all about it. guest 13045 is size 7, as you’ve discovered the….well, hard way.” Very witty….but so had she.

 

Ilak’s teeth cage™

Enslaved Enringed Erection Enforcement

Stunningly sadistic yet surprisingly simple, this is terrible tool torment over time. A locking ring goes over the gonads at the base of the balls. The business bit is hinged in two halves with spring-shut action, akin to an iron maiden of old. Apply on any errant erection to present a pulsing penis pointing purposefully – but poking is impossible. (In most chastity cages, the dick is drooped downwards). Each steel ring is covered with semi-sharp spikes on the inside surface. Permanent penile pain is promulgated, but also serious stimulation since the shaft is strafed should it start to shrink. (The inverse of the Kali’s Teeth Bracelet.) Available in seven sizes (3 to 9 inches) and six strengths (Starter, Short, Standard, Strong, Severe, Sade). Ideal for Reformatories, which require erection to be maintained at all times in the presence of lovely Ladies, or your sex slave.

Only NP18 6s 0d each (NP16:60) or at a bargain NP100 0s 0d (NP84:00) for a set of seven. Includes full fitting instructions (illustrated). Overseas & retail enquiries welcome. Buy today from your local branch of Foibles, or from Sex Spikes Ltd. Gross House, 144 Pin Street, Great Payne, Birmingham 12. (postage NP3)

 

“Ohh….” he gasped as the locking ring was closed, “….Oh My Gonads,” he added as the cage was snapped shut. “guest 13045 has stated the standard Reformatory refrain,” she said without sympathy, “although gaolbirds may use the word Groin instead. But he should stop moaning since it’s only the Short strength….which he’ll be wearing all night. Any more nonsense, and I’ll replace it with a worse one.” He shivered, and stood silently as he was given a smooth steel balls band. “An easy 4oz,” she said evenly, “but there are also heavier hauls….weighing in at 8oz, 12oz and 1lb.”

 

 

Then she rummaged on a shelf and located some steel for the heiress. “Ahhh….yes….Ahhh,” she gasped in her turn as boobs bands were applied. They were bigger and better ballast than those for the balls, but he was already aware how much she enjoyed tits torment. “Clipped cuffs should ensure good behaviour,” she said, “but just to be safe, here’s a spiked chastity belt….” she spread her legs, “Ahhh….Oh My Groin,” she gasped as it was applied, “….which should stop any ideas of Indecent Intent about taking a tongue to twat.” Then she showed him a sheet of paper, “Hold your Indictment Indicator high,” she said, “and present your purposeful pulsing penis.”

 

guest 13045:  sex-pest and Public pervert

evenings: six lashes wielded with whip

 mornings: six taps of tanningtown tawse

Maximum term - one month

 

Aunt Marge had always maintained the cane was too mild, and he merited much more. “Ahhh,” he gasped as he stood as ordered….FLASHH. Then he turned to the left….FLASHH….and likewise the right….FLASHH. “Did you have a school roll number….?” she asked of the heiress. “Yes….Ma’am,” she replied, “it was 7356.” His former fagmistress wrote rapidly, “….we’d prepared David’s earlier, but obviously weren’t aware of your impromptu stay.” A good grandiloquism, meaning on the spur of the moment.

 

               gaolbird guest  7356    :  exposure, playing with pussy in public

             evenings: six cuts of correctional cane

                           mornings: twelve tawse taps to tush, tits and twat

Maximum term - one month

 

FLASHH….then again….FLASHH….and again….FLASHH. “It goes on your cell door,” Patricia Terrier explained, “so the Guards are aware of your agonies. All guests normally spend their first night outside, as Put-You-In-Your-Place punishment.” As he’d discovered during his more recent incarceration. “Hands held behind backs,” she ordered, clipping their cuffs. Then she strutted out of the room, and along the hall. Felon and Feloness followed, though there was no chance of easy escape. The chain on their ankles meant they could walk, but not run.

 

Then it was down a set of stone steps into the building’s basement. They padded past the long line of prison cells, with The Terror Twins’ high heels clicking all the way. At the end it was outside through a door, and he saw three so-called Spanish Donkey trestles waiting in line. “Daily Diets Of Discipline are dished here, gaolbird 7356,” said Pretty Patty, “but we’re a bit busy with Relay….” doubtless still hanging around? “….so starting tomorrow morning. Your overnight accommodation is in the corner of the courtyard.”

 

They continued across to what was clearly labelled The Doghouse. She took two long lengths of chain-link, already attached at one end to the kennel roof, and clipped the others to their collars. “Down, dogs….” said Sexy Sammy, setting some food into firmly fixed bowls on the ground, “….here’s dinner….and water. In one way it’ll be sound retribution, since it’s some serfs’ revenge. We poor peasants had it hard, whilst the nobility lived a life of luxury….” Oops, “….enjoy….and we’ll wish you a very good night….” ha bloody ha, “….with one extra whack on your beat sheet for such shocking Sarcasm, guest 13045.” As ever, her apparent mind reading abilities were working well.

 

They knelt, and watched whilst The Terror Twins strutted away. “An eye-opener, Shagger,” said AAAHH, “I’d always thought Sari was strict, but they’re something else again….” she paused, “….how are we supposed to eat?” He shrugged. “With our mouths, doggy style,” he replied, “but after breakfast it’ll be Dowsing Duty, when we’re hosed down….” she shivered, “I was never a fan of cold showers at school, Shagger,” she interjected, “….nor me,” he agreed, “so welcome to hell….although it isn’t hot.”

 

It was several minutes later before they were finished. At least the food had been good….stew of some sort. “You’re a shambles, Shagger,” she said, “but I suppose I’m no better. Will you at least lick my lips clean? It’s something they haven’t stopped us doing.” He did so, and then she repaid the compliment. “Mmmm,” she moaned, kissing him hard. “AHHH,” he gasped in renewed penile pain. “So sorry,” she said, “I’d forgotten about the spikes on your shaft.” Which he wouldn’t be doing anytime soon. “After you,” he said, gesturing inside, “I’m assuming you’re happy to sleep together? If not, I’ll stay outside.” She sniggered. “It’s a little late to be bothered about Maidenly Modesty, Shagger,” she said, “at least we can huddle together for warmth.”

 

He crawled inside after her, and saw there was a pillow and blankets at the back. “It’s only the one night, Licia,” he repeated, “unless you’ve been really out of line, in which case the Guards will graciously award you another….” she shivered, and they lay down in the cramped conditions, “….goodnight….or at least as is possible. I was expecting to be here, albeit on my own. As it is, I’ve a gorgeous gaolbird to keep me company.” She sniggered. “Flatterer,” she replied, “and a very good night to you too.” Gently, she kissed his forehead, and he closed his eyes. It would still be a long night….seven inches, and this was but the beginning.

 

To be continued……   

 

rhymin' raw rear

Chapter 243 - part (3) of (4)

 Chapter 243 – part (3) of (4)

Capital Punishments

 

This time when he awoke, he was lying on the floor. He glanced up at the clock, and was shocked to see it was 10.16am. “Now I understand why you need six hour sessions, Sari,” he said as she stood sternly, holding a French flogger in one hand and a book in the other. Oops….since it was The Theory and Practice of Advanced Face-Sitting. “Indeed,” she agreed, “although obviously there’s no refund for lost time….” hard as nails, but then pretty prostitutes probably needed to be, “….you did say something about offering anal attention?” He nodded, and she stepped over him, enabling some Staring At Seats.

“Nice arse,” he muttered….Thwapp “….UGHHH….” he moaned as the seven strands of sheer suffering strafed his shaft and scrotum, “….I’m so sorry, I can’t think where I picked up such a shockingly sexist sentiment….Thwapp “….UGHHH,” he added at a second strike. “Which was for Sarcasm….” she said, kneeling with her hiney only inches away from his face, “….hold it hard. But be a good girl and don’t try to touch twat with tongue. You should still be flattered, since I don’t normally accept any anal attention, either.” He fondled her fetching fanny, and spread both buttocks. “Uhhh….” she moaned as he nuzzled her naughtiness with his nose….THWAPP “….UGHHH….I didn’t lick it,” he assured her, as she wiggled her waist.

 

Clearly, she’d enjoyed the experience, even so. “Uhhh….Uhhh,” she moaned as he attended anus. “Does your intended enjoy this deviance, Davina….Uhhh?” she asked. “Not particularly,” he replied, “though her half-Sister does….and I apply it regularly.” He was hard-pressed not add a Sexist Smack, but it would mean meeting her martinet again. “Really….Uhhh?” she asked. “Yes,” he confirmed, “for the past year, we’ve often enjoyed a regular Bi-some threesome….and she’s to be one of my ménage….” there was a short silence, interposed with many more moans, “….she was once in a dorm at school known as The Six Arses Licked. I visited it often, so you’ll appreciate having had plenty of practice.”

 

The waist wiggled again, and it seemed she would competently cum. “UHHH….UHHH,” she moaned, “damn your desirably distended dick, Davina….UHHH….” THWAPP “….UGHHH….” THWAPP “….UGHHH,” he gasped, “….I’m cumming….YESS.” Some cunt cream shot out, and hit his cheek. Patiently, he waited until her breathing had settled down. “Again,” she ordered imperiously, as he started another labour of love. His tongue would have been dry, however he’d been able to supplement saliva with some of her own excesses. “Thank you, Davina,” she said weakly, “I need some recovery time too, so you may make a closer acquaintance with my adorable arse. What’s the longest time you’ve been face-sat?” He considered the question. “About an hour,” he replied. “Fine,” she said, “let’s try it out.” She shimmied backwards until she was astride his face. “Mmmmffff,” he moaned, as she shifted slightly so he could still breathe….just, down in the darkness under her derrière. Was this delicious degradation a pinnacle of pleasure….despite the obvious oxymoron?

 

Time dilated, his pulse was pounding and he felt almost delirious. Every few minutes, she’d either whacked his willy or smitten his scrotum. “I’ve finished the book, Davina,” her voice wafted down to him from afar, “so now it’s time to say the fond goodbye.” She shifted again, and now his nose was completely covered. “Mmmmffff….” he moaned, unable to move since she’d pinned his arms with her ankles, “…..Mmmmffff….” he could feel his face reddening, “….MMMMFFFF….MMMMFFFF.” What a way to go….as all thought ceased.

 

Eventually he awoke again, still lying on the floor. At least he’d survived, and it hadn’t been third time unlucky. Odd….since there was some sort of whirring sound from the far corner of the room. “UHHH….AHHH,” he heard as he glanced around. Finally he focused on a floozy being fucked on her front, in the Doggy Position. The noise was from one of Wodin Tiberius Thring’s patent electromechanical machines. The lovely Lady was lying on a bondage bench in the almost altogether, apart from a pair of high heels, arse in the air. Clearly, this was Lady Alicia Harborne….and it must therefore be after 11am. Another glance at the clock indicated this was the case.

 

“Welcome back again, Davina,” the Happy Hooker called out, “get yourself over here, since this slut is seeking some sucking. I know you’re not desperately fond of fellatio for the fellas, but we’ll use a strap-on dildo if you really don’t fancy your phallus used as a sex object.” Slowly, he struggled to his feet, listening to more moans, “Being what’s called a Cunt Casanova,” he said, “means always giving the lovely Lady what she wants….” and never minding their own deviant desires, “….so I’m happy to help….” he strutted across the room, and offered out his organ, “….Uhh….Uhh,” he moaned accordingly. She stared up at him with curiously vacant eyes.

 

Then it became obvious she was about to climax….almost certainly again, so he pulled back. “YESS…. AHHH….YESS….YESS….UHHH,” she shouted, “….spank the slut some more for such sin.” SMACKK SMACKK “….Oww….more, Ma’am….MORE.” The Goth girl grinned….SMACKK SMACKK “….Oww….” she gasped, “….UHHH….YESS….AHHH….YESS.” Then Scary Sari took out a plastic bag from her carryall, which she slipped over her head, and tied it tight. “NO….NO….” she shouted, almost certainly with some more subaudition, “…..UHHHK….UHHHK….YESS.” She threshed wildly, and there was a sudden silence as she fainted and fell forward flat.

 

At once, the professional prostitute removed the bag, and added it to the débris in the wastepaper basket. “One must be VERY careful with suffocation, Davina,” she said, “obviously I don’t want to lose any clients the hard way.” Indeed not….as she unscrewed the phallus from the poking pole. “Which Thrings Thing was it?” he enquired, “just as a matter of interest?” She smiled. “It was The Last Gasp,” she replied, “clearly you’ve some knowledge of the product?” He nodded. “The Professor’s a firm friend of mine,” he replied, absently. “I’ve two items for your use when copulating her cute cunt at the close,” she continued, “being StrictCream, and some relatively new stuff called Particularly Painful Penis Punishment Powder. Have you heard of either….in your evident extensive experience?” He shivered slightly.

 

“The Gel from Hell,” he agreed, “plus P5….and yes, I’ve used both. I also know the makers….shall we say intimately well?” She shrugged. “I won’t ask how,” she said, “but at least you’re aware of the agonies about to befall you both. I promised you considerable crying and cumming, and do my best to deliver. I’ve assured her how you’re a known quantity, so protection in poking’s not necessary. However, as she told you over the phone, she fancies a formal flogging first. You can be her second strict Schoolmistress….” she rummaged around in her carryall, “….since I played the part for her yesterday evening. Here’s my black cape and mortarboard.” He put them on, and collected a cane.

 

“Ohh,” he heard from the bondage bench, and it appeared she was back with them. “Stand up….guilty girl….” he said, switching into the mindset of a Mistress, “….hands held on head….” she arose, and for the first time he saw she was also wearing metal boobs bands. They were in the style of heavy-duty handcuffs, and clearly hurt, “…..a warm welcome to the Soviet School….” he recalled the nickname she’d used, so this sounded suitably severe, “….specializing in suggilation for sinful sluts….which means struck until striped….” she shivered, “….we’ll commence your caning career with what’s known as a SAYM T’GO, or Start-As-You-Mean-To-Go-On beating of four strokes. It’s utterly undeserved, simply to show some Superiority. Bend over, and we’ll begin. Miss Davina will dish the derrière discipline, whilst Miss Sari demonstrates Schadenfreude.” She instantly assumed the Position, as he flexed the cane between his fingers. “Oo..er, yes, Mesdames,” she muttered.

 

Swishhhhthwackkkkk    Swishhhhthwackkkkk

“Oooh..HOOH….TWO, thank you, MA’AM,” she gasped. “It seems you’ve learned the Rhyming Responses, guilty girl,” he said sternly, “which will stand you in good stead.”

 

Swishhhhthwackkkkk    Swishhhhthwackkkkk

“Yeooww..WOWW….FOUR, thank you, MA’AM,” she gasped, “thank you for thrashing me, I know I need it.” Or was this want it? “Perhaps a couple more cuts, Miss Davina,” said the Goth girl, gratingly, “since she’s been Staring At Skirts….and Seats. These Bi Babes are all the same, thinking they can get away with it.”

 

Swishhhhthwackkkkk    Swishhhhthwackkkkk

“Yikes..YIKES….SIX, thank you, MA’AM,” she gasped, “I’m sorry for such sin.” So what next? “Perhaps some taps with the tawse too?” he mused, “what would be the best way to administer the agonies, Miss Sari?” His colleague in crime licked her lips. “Stand up, guilty girl,” she said, “Miss Davina can have you over a barrel….so to speak.” Literally, it appeared, as there was one such in a corner. It had been sawn off slightly, so stood flat on the floor. The professional prostitute pulled it forward and glanced upwards, clearly judging angles for her own reasons. “It’s called the Barrel Of Fun,” she said wryly, “although not necessarily so. We’ll have you in the Backbreaker Submission Position.” It was inversion, in incredible inferiority, although normally over a knee. She balanced backwards, her head and legs dangling down loose. “Ohh….ohh,” she gasped as her wrists and ankles were shackled wide.

 

“Please begin, Miss Davina,” she said, handing him a tawse, “give her what-for….before what-ho. She’s a pussy pain pervert, as you must have realized, which will probably cum quickly from cunnie punnie.” Clearly, she knew her client’s persuasions, and perversions….Crackk “….Ahhh….” Crackk “….Ahhh,” she gasped as he tapped her tied tits….Crackk “….UGHHH….” Crackk “….UGHHH….harder….UHHH….” always happy to help….CRACKK “….URGHHH….” CRACKK “….URGHHH….OMG I’m cumming….YESS….YESS….YESS.” He could see her chest heaving. “I’ll do it all again, Miss Sari,” he said, “although for punishment purposes, we’re clearly wasting our time.” Crackk “….Ahhh….” Crackk “….Ahhh….” CRACKK “….URGHHH….” CRACKK “….URGHHH….I’m cumming again….YESS….YESS.” Quod erat demonstrandum, or Thus It Had Been Proved.

 

“She should feel some phallus, Miss Davina,” said Scary Sari, rummaging around again inside her carryall, “and you can help….since you’ve become hard again. Kindly apply some StricktCream and P5 in the appropriate places, whilst I attach a Rope Of Rack And Ruin. This time it’ll take two pulleys. Fortunately I was able to sort out the preliminaries whilst you were both….well otherwise occupied.” She handed him two jars, and he unscrewed each of them. “Ohh….” she moaned as he smeared the slit liberally with The Gel from Hell. It would take a little time for the terrible torment to take effect. He watched whilst the Goth girl tied one end of the elasticised cord to the short length of chain between both boobs. From there it travelled upwards and across the ceiling. Then it was down again a few feet in front of the barrel. He smeared his shaft all over, and dipped it inside the second. It felt similar to coffee grounds….as apparently one of the main ingredients.

 

Finally he closed both jars and stood silently in front of the free end. He’d an inkling of what was afoot, so spread his legs, waiting for the worst. “Ohh….” he gasped as she burrowed beneath his bum and took hold of his testicles, “….ahhh,” he added as she placed a bowline around his balls, so the Rope was roughly right. “I think you have the idea,” she said, “each step towards the slit increases your scrotum’s stretching….and similar suffering for the slut.” FLASHH “….Ahhh,” he gasped taking two steps, “Ahhhhh.” Already he could feel discomfort from the cream, and from now on it would only get worse….Thwackk “….OWW….” Thwackk “….OWW.” he gasped as something suddenly strafed his shoulders. He glanced around, and saw a second scourge. This one was eleven lengths of lovely long leather, each knotted nastily at irregular intervals. He’d seen a similar specimen before, as used by the Reverend Carmen Jones.

 

The Parish Priest had once whipped him well, and he was confidently expecting some of the same from his dearest Aunt Marge at the Pennance Reformatory. “Put your back into it,” she ordered, “or I will, one way or another.” Oops….since he could also see she’d put on a strap-on dildo. “You didn’t want any anal,” she said sternly, “so don’t tempt me with your tush.” He took another tentative step forward. “AHHH,” he gasped. Now he was only inches away from the pussy prize, which was already shivering from the StricktCream. “Ahhh….Ahhh….the pain….the pain,” she moaned, although it had hardly started. “Poke her,” she ordered, “don’t delay your distended dick, Miss Davina.” He gritted his teeth, and parted her pussy….Thwackk “….OWW….AHHH,” he gasped as his penis passed her labial lips….FLASHH “….AYEEEEE.”

 

She railed against the shackles, an action which achieved nothing. “UHHH….me cunt,” she shouted, “it stings….EEEE….it scrapes.” THWACKK “….OWWW,” he gasped. “Only a further five inches forward in fucking fun,” she said, “such a shame it’s similarly suffering. Anyway, it’s time her mammaries met my martinet….and now she can suck MY shaft in submission.” She strutted around, as he concentrated on cunt….Thwapp, “….OWW….” Thwapp “….OWW,” she gasped His stretched scrotum would be worse when fully fucked, so he’d pull back after each stroke of the screw. “AYEEEEE….AHHH,” he shouted, “AYEEEEE….EEEE,” she repeated, “OMG….the pussy pain….EEEE….I’m a gone girl….YESS….YESS….YESS….MMMM….MMMM.”

 

Clearly the dildo had done the dirty deed. “Don’t stop, Miss Davina,” she said silkily, “hump her hard. The quicker you can cum, the sooner your scrotum ceases its suffering.” So much he’d sussed. “AHHH….AYEEEEE,” he gasped in pure penile pain, “me balls….AHHH....me prick….huhh….huhh….” it was no good, he was crying. One final fling for the fuck, as he held her quivering thighs, “….AHHH….AYEEEEE….AHHH….AYEEEEE….” not before time, he felt himself falling over the edge, “….YESS….YESS….YESS.” He spurted seven times into the cute cunt called Lady Alicia Ariadne Anouska Helen Harborne.

 

Then he retreated several steps backwards with real relief, even as the professional prostitute appeared beside him. “Ohh,” he moaned as she released the Rope Of Rack And Ruin. She winked once, and let the lovely Lady loose. “Ohh….ohh,” she moaned in her turn, jack-knifing up over the barrel, and rubbing her wrists. Clearly she too had been crying convincingly, since her cheeks were streaked with tears. “Here’s a tissue each,” she said, handing them over, “although as Shagger’s well aware, the cream’s insoluble. The powder inside the pussy will mean painful poking for a couple of days, until it works its way out.” Oops. “Oww….Oww,” he gasped, attempting to scrape some off his soft shaft, without much success. “Oww….Oww,” she echoed, stroking her slit similarly, before both soiled items joined the other detritus.      

 

“I’m afraid we’re done for the day, kiddies,” she said, stacking several suspect items into her carryall, “since it’s noon.” He glanced at the clock, and so it was. “Thank you for all your kind and also unkind assistance, Ma’am….” he said, handing her the boobs bra and high heels. Then he started to dress in his Smart suit, “….it’s been a wonderful session….” having almost been strangled, hanged and suffocated, “….ably assisted by Licia.” The Happy Hooker winked once. “My pleasure, both of you,” she said, “anytime you’re in London, give me a call. I do similar spouse sessions, but not very often, so this has been a type of treat. Here’s my Calling Card, Shagger….” she passed it to him, and zipped the carryall closed, “auf wieder sehen….I hope….” she strutted towards the door, “….I’ve left the key in the lock.” Which was as well, since he’d totally forgotten about it. Then he examined the Card, carefully.

 

capital punishments with Scary Sari

specialist snuff stuff

balls beating, cunnie punnie

tits tweaked, posteriors punished

0800 167269 (six hour sessions)

 

“Where are you off to now, Licia?” he asked, conversationally. “I’m headed home….” she replied, likewise beginning a return to respectability in a grey business suit. He’d not seen it before, having been unconscious at the time of her arrival, “….on the 12:30 from LondoN PaddingtoN….fortunately only a few minutes’ walk.” He smiled widely. “Snap,” he said, “since it’ll be my train, too. Shall we travel together?” She nodded. “It’ll give me some conversation on a long journey,” she said, “I presume you ARE travelling First Class?” What else….since second would never be the same. “Yes,” he confirmed, “do you want to spruce yourself up a bit? I must make a quick phone call, and advise my arrival time.”

 

She nodded and headed for the bathroom. He strode to the bedside cabinet, and dialled 9 for an outside line, followed by a freephone number….0800 AKTB4U. Then he heard ringing tone. “Cell House Holidays,” said a vixen’s voice he knew very well. “Hello, Sammy,” he said, “or perhaps Pats? This is Shagger, and you should be expecting me today. I’m on the 12:30 from the Smoke….whenever it arrives.” There was a short silence. “It’s Sammy, David,” said his former fagmistress, “we’ll both meet you in Ray’s car.” He pursed his lips. “I suppose there’s a terribly good reason why he can’t do so?” he asked. “Yes,” she confirmed, “he’ll be hanging around here all evening….if you take my meaning?”

 

Most likely from a wall. “I’ll look forward to later….” he said instead, as AAAHH emerged from the bathroom, “….sorry, must dash.” He replaced the receiver. “At least I look more like a lovely Lady,” she said, “rather than a screwed slut. Shall we go, as time’s short? Fortunately our train usually leaves from platform 8, which in an open one and easily reached.” Quickly, he combed his hair, and closed his attaché case. “It’s as well we both travel light,” he said, opening the door and removing the key. She stepped through, and he followed her along the corridor to the lift. Luck was with them, and it was at their floor. He pressed the call button, and they entered at once. She selected G for Ground, and they waited until the doors opened a second time. They continued to the Reception desk and he handed over the key. “Your bill’s ready, Sir,” said Cyril Weeden, “if you could kindly sign? The recent phone call was free, but there are four meals on the company account.” He picked up a pen….Peter Purvis.

 

“Thank you, Sir,” he said, “I hope you were satisfied with your stay….so to speak?” Very fucking funny. “Yes, thanks,” he replied evenly, “with four floozies, in fact….” he paused, “….William Shanks can’t have checked out yet, since his suit and overnight bag are still in Salon 306.” Seaweed nodded. “I suppose he’s still with Lady Brusch, Sir,” he said, “when I took them breakfast, he was all set for naked waiter service….drat it, since I lost a large tip. However, it was more than made up by your generosity….although your Caning For Cunt still stings slightly. I think he’s made a big hit with her….or rather the other way around, having seen his striped shoulders. Anyway, I’ll transfer his stuff up to her Flat.”

 

So another good time was had by all. “Thank you, and goodbye, Cyril,” he said, taking his pretty partner’s hand, “until next time.” Which wouldn’t be for quite a while. “The same to you, Sir,” he replied, and they continued quickly out of the hotel. Then it was along SUSPECT STREET until they finally turned into PRAED STREET, and with it the main-line terminus. It was only a seconds later when they reached PlatforM 8. As always he saw the huge advertisement hoarding for The Burdizzo Babes now in its twelfth year. “I suggest we head straight for the restaurant car, Shagger,” she said, “since they should be serving lunch. It’s often restricted to First Class on this route, which obviously isn’t a problem.” He nodded. “Yes,” he said succinctly.

 

 

It would be a new and novel experience to enjoy the experience of full dining. He’d not considered it before, on the relatively few occasions he’d used main line expresses without being stuck in steerage. He glanced up at a clock which read 12.29pm, so they’d cut it fine. Quickly they continued along the platform, and finally found the correct carriage. They boarded, even as the station staff started to blow whistles….PEEEEP. Then they were safely inside, and able to select some seats. “Ahhh,” they both gasped in unison, sitting down opposite each other at a table for two. Seconds later they were away, and accelerating out of the terminus.

 

 

Almost immediately, they passed the famous unofficial trackside mural. “far away is close at hand in images of elsewhere,” she mused, “it’s really rather prophetic and profound. Does anyone know the artist?” He shook his head. “Apparently it’s anonymous,” he replied, “although colloquially called The Master of Paddington.” For fairly obvious reasons. “Since you weren’t exactly able to introduce yourself,” she said, “perhaps you might do so now?” He rummaged inside a pocket. “My Calling Card, Mademoiselle,” he said, handing it over.

 

David Shagton

Group Special Services Compliance Advisor

Vaillance Holdings PLC

1000, Park Lane, Mayfair, London W1D 1VH

01 -  MAY 6969 (69 lines)

 

“Impressive,” she replied, “which does explain your nickname….David….” he interrupted, “Please call me Shagger,” he said, “like almost everyone else.” Apart from such notable exceptions as Samantha Fuck Me Harder Terrier, “….I simply couldn’t work out how it purported to Peter Purvis. I noted he’d registered as The DJ Locker, Fish Street, Plymouth. Presumably it’s an allusion to Davy Jones, and decidedly droll. But at least daddy will be relieved I’ve been screwed by a stud of substance….” nice to know, “….although I don’t quite understand how you’re gainfully employed, yet still about to attend University?” He shrugged. “It’s simply a sinecure,” he explained, “since the Chairman is my Patron….Sir Digby Vaillance.”

 

He wouldn’t bother with the shady side of the deal….a monthly spanking and stick session in another No Tell Hotel. “So do you….well, cum here often?” she asked wryly, using the well-worn witticism. “No,” he replied, “but if you’re talking about sordid screwing sessions in the capital, this is my second such. Alas, my four fucked floozies will be from feast to famine for the foreseeable future….my apologies, I mean lovely Ladies.” Until his guest reward….whenever it might be? “How so?” she asked, clearly unoffended. “Wine, Sir?” asked JameS CricK, proffering a menu, and he gestured towards her. She could decide, since he wouldn’t understand any of it, anyway. “A bottle of house white, please,” she said, waving it away, “if it’s all right with you?” He nodded, now knowing how to handle such a situation in future, and the waiter made a neat note.

 

“Tickets please….?” asked the Conductress as she too approached, and they handed them over, “….I’m doing diners first, since we’ve no available space for second class passengers….” as Alicia had indicated, “….interesting, Sir. A three point open First return to and from LetchhamptoN TowN, via LondoN PaddingtoN and PennancE RoaD. Such circulars are rare at the best of times.” He grinned. “They took time to issue it,” he agreed, “apparently it’s the three single legs added together and then divided in half.” LouisE YarN nodded. “Indeed so, Sir,” she agreed, “and obviously you’re presently on the centre section. We should pull into PennancE RoaD at about half past eight this evening.” With twelve hours to a day, surely the railways should have caught up with dozenal arithmetic….and a twendy hour clock? It would finally mean the removal of so many previous problems, since eighdeen hours really would be 8pm. Minutes could be trickier, but time would tell….so to speak.

 

“Might you once have been called Louisiana Ma’am?” he enquired politely as she inspected his pretty partner’s ticket. “Quite correct, Sir,” she said, returning it with a smile, “so you’re on your way back to LiskearD, Madam. It’s the first stop after PlymoutH NortH RoaD, at around half past six. Enjoy your journeys….and meals.” She handed hers over, and passed onto the next table. “Well done,” said AAAHH, “you were telling me your troubles with twat?” He shrugged. “I’m headed for a Reformatory,” he explained, “which are places where it’s possible to deal with Dominant dolts. Should the worst happen, and daddy weds you with one, simply send your spouse there for some sexual suffering. You’ll find the results are absolutely astonishing….and you’re allowed to check up personally on progress.” Then the wine waiter appeared again, uncorked the bottle and poured a taster.

 

He took a sip, and it tasted fairly foul, as always. “Fine,” he said heartily as two glasses were poured, “were you once known as Jiminy Cricket?” He nodded wryly and departed. “Well done….and Cheers….” she said, “….Bottoms Up,” he replied, “which was the official toast at my school.” She sniggered softly. “Which was where?” she asked. “St Stricktlands,” he replied. “Presumably it’s….well, strict?” she probed, “given so many subbie swishing sentiments from you and Wanker Boy Will at On-Stage Stooge?”

Now the menus were handed out to everyone by FranciS CaseY. “Efficacy, Licia,” he said wittily, “and this is my treat.” She shook her head. “Nonsense,” she replied, “I’ll pay….unless you suffer from the sin of macho male pride?” He shrugged. “No….and thank you,” he said, “I’ll be pleased to accept.” She closed hers, clearly having decided on the options, and he did the same. “St Sticks is the caning centre of the known universe,” he explained, “where the sinful scholars are swished soundly for anything and everything.” She shivered slightly. “I wish I’d attended,” she said wistfully, “unless it’s only for bad boys?”

 

He smiled. “Nope,” he agreed, “it’s always been open to guilty girls….right from when it opened, nearly ninety years ago. However there IS a new system, modestly called Shagger’s Schoolday Sojourns, which are to cater for people in your position. It’s on Arrival Afternoons, and you have an overnight stay in dorm. Then there’s lessons the following morning, and you role-play throughout as a member of the lower 6^th form. They’re called pupils In The Pink, being the year colour uniform. As I’m now an august alumnus….” Sometime Scholar, “….it wouldn’t be with me for your fearsome fagmaster, but I can suggest someone suitable. He’s the Honourable Anthony Giles Harwood Fontesque-Smythe, son of Viscount Standish….” probably the two peers would know of each other? “….but Phoney Tony’s a firm friend, and next term he’ll be a prefect. I’m afraid he IS a Dominant dolt, but radiates an olde-worlde courtesy and charm….” he’d ignore all the other epithets, “….if you’re interested, the school’s freephone number is 0800 217691.”

 

He watched whilst she wrote herself a naughty Note, and slipped it into her handbag. Then FranciS CaseY returned to take their orders. “I’ll have the prawns, ham hock and fruit salad,” she said, “and were you Efficacy at school?” He nodded. “Yes, Ma’am,” he admitted.  “For me, Francis,” he said, “it’s the soup and the roast chicken with all the trimmings, then apple strudel. I’m honestly not sure where my next meal will be coming from.” Actually he did….and most likely it would be in a bowl outside a kennel? “Thank you Madam, and Sir,” he said before moving to the next table. “Well done….again,” she muttered.

 

“But what about YOUR schools?” he enquired, “were you never given some stick for your sins?” She shook her head. “Not until I was fourteen….more’s the pity,” she replied, “Daddy originally sent me to a so-called progressive, which didn’t believe in posterior punishment….” an inferior educational establishment, as Iain Terrence Hayter would have put it. “Daddy did dish derrière discipline when I was young,” she said, “and took his belt to me….” he interrupted, “….so definitely a belted earl,” he said wittily, “….very good,” she agreed, “the Earl of Liskeard….” Ohh, “….alas it only gave me a taste for tanning….” she grimaced, “….and the tawse, with which you hit me earlier. Alas he stopped when he saw how much I was enjoying it. So I was sent to the Crown Commonwealth Collegiate, Princetown….” which explained its nickname, taken from CCCP….the Cyrillic version of USSR, “….advertising a century of service, for daughters of the nobility, gentry and those in peril on the seas. It’s also adjacent to the famous Dartmoor jail. For fun and frolics we gave fearful frustration for the poor prisoners. We’d amble around in the street with the Tart’s Trademark….” a rolled-up skirt, “….with which they could see and stroke at from the cells. It was best during the summer months when we were doing cross-country runs, and they were on chain gangs in the moors….similar to the ancient movie Cool Hand Luke….” as indeed was done with Ditches, or D-Days each summer Saturday at The Styx, “….although at my Mother’s insistence, after O-Levels I attended the Oaks and Pines finishing school in Montreaux. It was certainly suitably strict….” she stopped for a second, obviously revisiting the rattan again, and then her eyes cleared, “….whose motto ought to have been Conjugation, Subjugation, and Objurgation.” He grinned. “The latter being to chide or upbraid vehemently,” he said, “which I suppose simply rekindled your naughty needs?”

 

She nodded as the starters arrived, and they began to eat. “I understand you’re an heiress, Licia,” he said, “but surely can’t take the title when daddy….err….dies?” She smiled. “It’s one of the rarities which CAN pass along the distaff side,” she said, “as the first Earl only had daughters. Fortunately, King Henry VIII had some sympathy.” Having sampled some six Wives, with only limited success at a male heir. “We still don’t see eye to eye in sex,” she continued, “since daddy’s definitely a Dominant dolt, and worse still, vitriolic vanilla….” Oh, dear, “….which annoys Mummy no end. She’s never minded being a convenient cunt for coitus, since she’s a serial slut. But she similarly seeks spanking, and like me she’s a Bi Babe. However there aren’t any good Dominatrices in our rural climes, so we commute to the capital whenever the….well, urge takes us, and need a thoroughly therapeutic thrashing….” she mopped her mouth, “….did YOUR dad do discipline?” He shook his head. “Never,” he replied, when he’d finished his soup, “since he’s a serious subbie who leans ’levendy ’leven....or 143 to 1 in old money. But my Mother caned me continually, competently and comprehensively.”

 

Their empties were whisked away by JameS CricK and replaced by hot dinner plates. “So when’s the wedding?” she asked. “It’s the last Saturday in august,” he replied, “and it’ll be a Dominatrix do. I’ll be the one to love honour and obey. All the studs will be starkers, including me. I’ll be given a Wedlock to wear on my willy instead of a ring on my finger, the same as all married males. Afterwards, I’ll be led along the aisle on a leash….whilst whipped by the Bridesmaids, who’ll be dressed as Burdizzo Babes.” She shivered, as their main meal arrived. “It all sounds superb,” she said, as the vegetables were served, “….would you be bothered if I attended? I promise to sit quietly at the back, and not annoy anyone.”

 

He doubted his Missus would mind. “It’ll be outside St Eſſtrickts Parish Church at three o’clock,” he said, “which is actually located in the school’s grounds. The second and third letters are the obsolete long S. It’ll be well attended, since it’s a time of Summer School….alas only open to previous prefects….” he pursed his lips in thought, “….however the Pennance Reformatory is another matter. As I said, its principal purpose is the management of mere males, but they’re taking gaolbirds this year….spelled the old-fashioned way with a G. They’re serious subbie sluts….ones which also enjoy tool teasing.” Her eyes lit. “It sounds straight up my street, Shagger,” she said, “do tell me more.” 

 

 

Chapter 243 - part (2) of (4)

 Capital Punishments

 

His pretty partner put down the handset onto the bedside cabinet. “I’ll leave it off the hook,” she said, “since I don’t want any more interruptions….” fair enough, “….quite an eye-opener, and a clear case of Genuine Jam Tomorrow. But were those sins on stage generic ones, or had you actually committed the crimes?” He shook his head. “They were just role-play, Ma’am,” he replied.

 

“My currency’s Six For Sex,” she said, “so we can safely say you’ve suffered sufficient swishing to prepay my pussy….and leave a lot left over….” she patted his penis, “….you’re definitely on the up and up….moving more into the upper echelons of high society. In the circumstances of copulating class cunt, I’m grateful you’re still happy to hump me….a simple shop Manageress. Anyhow, I’ve a handle on your filthy fetishes, so it’ll be balls torture and tool teasing. As you might imagine, it’s also a terrific turn-on to my twat.” As was so often the case with lovely Ladies, and the same situation with his Missus. “NO….mercy, Ma’am,” he muttered, straining against the shackles, an action which achieved nothing as always. “No mercy it is….” she agreed amiably, with the usual wilful misunderstanding, and mouthed him a kiss, “….Theresa The Teaser will tease you to the edge of insanity….and beyond.”

 

His penis pulsed, whilst he watched her strut across the room. One wall was completely covered with items of coercion and correction. “First of all,” she said as she returned with several such, “I’ll give your gonads a good going over. How do you like your nuts knackered?” She stared down into his eyes, and at once he was reminded of Comrade Colonel Rosa Klebb. She was the horrid harridan from Ian Fleming’s From Russia With Love. “Be HARD with me, Ma’am,” he whispered, “as I’m hard with you.” She knelt on the bed between his legs. “Sentiments which Wanker Boy Will stated so succinctly at the show, Shagger,” she said, as she shed her skirt. As there were no naughty knickers, it enabled Staring At Slits.

 

“My favourite friend put a particularly pithy perspective on the process, Ma’am,” he said, “first it’s the flex of the fingers, then the feel on the flesh, followed by the flat forehand, and finally the fear of a fuck-free future fate.” She flexed them, knowingly. “When we first met in my shop,” she said, “I made you my balls bulb boy. So this time you can take the testicle twist, and then I’ll squeeze your scrotum.” Oo..er, yes MA’AM. “AHHH….AHHH,” he gasped, “AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….me balls….AHHH….me balls.” He was shaking slightly. “Such fun,” she said, “let’s do it again….several times.” Yes please. “AHHH….AHHH….” he gasped, “AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….more, Ma’am.”

 

It was a quarter of an hour later before she finally finished. “You’re seeping some semen, Shagger,” she said, “now it’s time for you to take the Wartenberg Pinwheel….terrific tool teasing, and exquisite agonies.” He railed again at the shackles at the prospect of penile pain….plus perverted pleasure. She held it high, enabling him to see his fate first, as did all the best torturers. “NO….” he shouted as it moved towards his manhood, “….AHHH….” he gasped as it began its journey of suffering along the entire length of his straining shaft, “….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….AYEEEEE..HEEE..EEEE,” he shouted as it stopped at precisely the primary pleasure point.

 

Was this heaven and hell at the same time? “Dear me,” she said, sotto voce, “somewhat sensitive, it seems. I can’t imagine why….” try taking some torment to your tantalizing tits, if you want to find out? “….we’ll have to call a halt. I don’t want to run the risk of pushing you over the edge early. So you can please pussy, as you assured me in the shop about offering it….although it won’t need very much effort to make me cum.” Then she shimmied up onto the bed, and draped her thighs around his ears, whilst holding onto the head rail. “UHHH….UHHH….” she moaned as he tackled twat with tongue.

 

She WAS already wet, so he should be able to bring her to the boil in short order without worrying about the long licks. Deftly and diligently, he delved deep, “….UHHH….UHHH….UHHH….” he took her clit into his mouth and sucked hard, “….UHHH….UHHH….UHHH….OMG….I’m cumming….yes….YESS….YESS….” her chest heaved, “….again, Shagger.” He nodded weakly, and resumed his wicked work.

 

Six orgasms later, she was finally finished. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be a wanton wicked wench or Witch, with no worries about the wherewithal? “I agree you’re GOOD, Shagger,” she said, licking her lips, “I was wondering whether we’d need the Pinwheel again, but your fancy’s fully formed, so I shall screw you straightaway….in the Superior style.” Which went without saying, since he was the one shackled. She shifted her stance. “Ohh….” he gasped as she stroked his cheek, and her touch was 1000V, “….UHHH,” he added as he felt himself fucking. “UHHH….UHHH,” she repeated as her slit slithered down his shaft. As always, he’d endeavour to ensure he didn’t spurt too soon.

 

“I should slap you soundly, Shagger,” she said, “for inflicting such an indignity onto me.” Which was one way of looking at it. “As a slap slut….what’s stopping you, Ma’am?” he asked instead….SLAPP “….Ahhh….” SLAPP “….Ahhh,” he gasped, again and again. “UHHH….UHHH….UHHH….” she moaned as she humped him hard, and he endeavoured to think about quadratic equations, “….YESS….YESS….YESS.” He waited whilst her breathing settled down.

 

“Was there a problem, Shagger?” she asked, “since you haven’t spunked.” He shook his head. “Not at all, Ma’am,” he replied, “I was simply holding back….to ensure you enjoyed another orgasm. If you’re set to source some semen, kindly continue coitus….Mmmm,” he added as she kissed him. “This time I shall hump you hard,” she said, as soon as they’d separated, “UHHH….UHHH….UHHH….UHHH.” He gritted his teeth. “UHHH….UHHH….UHHH,” he echoed, “I’m falling over the edge….YESS….YESS.” He shot several successive spurts inside her slit. “YESS….YESS,” she moaned, evidently enjoying another ecstatic experience. “Mmmm….Mmmm,” they moaned as she continued to kiss him.

 

After what seemed an age, she lifted herself off. Deftly, she took a tissue from the bedside cabinet, obligingly placed there by the management. She wiped herself down, and then did the same for his soft shaft.  “Thanks, Shagger,” she said as she disposed of the result into a wastepaper basket. Then she arose and replaced her skirt, “I’ll love you and leave you, so screw you soon….” she pulled over the covers, “….now you’re set for Scary Sari….at six o’clock tomorrow morning….goodnight.” Thanks a bunch. “Goodnight, Theresa,” he replied woodenly, “don’t work too hard.” She mouthed him a kiss, switched off the lights and departed.

 

So what was next? Surely it should be sleep? Then unexpectedly the door opened again. Had she forgotten something? The lights illuminated, and he blinked as Ambrosia stood on the threshold. “Good evening, Shagger,” she said, approaching, “don’t bother to get up….” very droll, as she replaced the receiver, “….it was still set on speaker, so I was able to overhear everything you’ve been up to….and up….” Oops, “….I’ve left Cyril in charge on the desk for a few minutes. When booking, you made mention of how you couldn’t guarantee your gonads….” she pulled off the covers, “….however having seen your lovely Lady leaving you in the lurch, it seemed too good an opportunity to miss out on your manhood.”

 

Nothing like being treated as a sex object. “In reverse circumstances this would be called rape, Ma’am,” he muttered. “Obviously,” she replied airily, “but studs should simply lie back and enjoy it….and be grateful they’re getting the goods….” so the second time he’d had this conversation, with the same result, “….I’ll affix a Spiked Plums Parachute with an 8oz lead weight, which should serve to….well, keep your pecker up….” very droll, “….I overheard all about your role-play felonies at On-Stage Stooge….” Ohh, “….so I’ll accept you’ve suffered Six For Sex in prepayment for MY pussy.

 

It’ll still leave you half a dozen in hand, which may be helpful with Scary Sari.” Fair enough. “Ahhh….” he gasped as she slipped the studs around his scrotum, “….AHHH….AHHH,” he added as she attached the agony. “You didn’t lick me last time….” she continued critically, as she shed her Tanningtown black leather skirt, folding it neatly to the floor. As another august alumna, or sometime scholar, impeccable tidiness had been caned in to her over her time of tenure at The Styx. Needless to say, she’d had no naughty knickers, either, “….Georgie Boy’s tongue is legendary….” so he’d been told, “….he assures me the skill runs in the family, so get going….” she shimmied up onto the bed, in exactly the same spot as Theresa The Teaser.

 

Another hour, another pussy….suddenly he was sympathetic to the plight of poorly paid prostitutes. It must be tough, trying to keep sessions spontaneous. On the other hand, maybe it didn’t much matter to their copulating clients, so long as coitus was concluded? “Uhhh….uhhh….UHHH” she moaned as he stroked her slit, “get straight in there….UHHH….” once again, he delved deep, “….bite me….AYEEEEE….” SLAPP “….Ahhh….” SLAPP “….Ahhh,” so it seemed she was a second slapper, so to speak, “….bastard boy….UHHH….taking such unfair advantage of a respectable Lady….UHHH….is it my fault I adore a bit clit….?” no….but it wasn’t his, either, “….bite me again….UHHH….only harder….UHHH…EEEE….” so it was Stop It I Like It? “….sod you Shagger….UHHH….I’m cumming already….UHHH….YESS….” SLAPP “….YESS….” SLAPP “….YESS.”

 

With his second slit of the evening, it was eight orgasms later before she’d been satisfied sufficiently to stop. “I suppose it will have to do,” she said sulkily, “since Cyril will be wondering what we’re up to….well, perhaps not. Anyway, I’ll screw you in the Superior style, as did Theresa The Teaser….since you seem to enjoy it so much….” did he have any choice? “….like father like son, since Georgie Boy’s just the same….” the stimulation of the scrotum stretching, coupled with the closeness of cute cunt, had kept him hard. Slowly, she shimmied backwards on the bed, and lay on top of him, “….Mmmm….” she moaned as she too kissed him hard.

 

Finally, they separated “….hell, you even pucker like your paternal parent, let alone screwing similarly with the same seven inches of circumcised sin.” Never make cunt comparisons, the wise words of Alice Tetsworth floated across his brain. Somehow though, it was one rule for the wretches and none for the nubiles. “Uhhh….uhhh,” he moaned as his penis passed another pair of labial lips. “UHHH….UHHH,” she echoed, “FUCK….I’m cumming already….FUCKK….” he was happy to help, but she was in charge, not him, “….YESS….YESS….YESS.”

 

She sagged slowly, and he waited politely for her eyes to open again. “Thank you for holding back….again,” she said weakly, “this time I’ll take your tool to its termination, Shagger….UHHH….UHHH….UHHH….ohh, Shagguhhhh….UHHH….” he gritted his teeth, feeling himself falling, “….UHHH….UHHH….I’m spurting….YESS….” she held him hard, “….YESS….YESS….Mmmm.” She kissed him again, and several celestial cymbals sounded at their mutual climax, even as he shed his semen inside her slit.

 

Slowly, she struggled to her feet, and again his soft shaft slipped out. She in her turn took a tissue, and patted her pussy. Then she dabbed down his dick, and added the latest evidence of shared sin into the same wastepaper basket. “Did you want to book breakfast, Shagger?” she asked, as though this had simply been a courtesy call. “Scary Sari’s session starts at six, Ma’am,” he replied, “so perhaps two full English, with room service at nine o’clock, please?”

 

She nodded. “I’ll let her in with my pass key,” she said, “since you’ll still be a little tied up….as you told her on the phone….” apparently, he wasn’t about to be let loose….again? “….sweet dreams.” She covered him over for a second time. Then she mouthed him a kiss, switched off the lights, and strutted out of the room. There was nothing to be done, apart from hope he’d be spared any altercations with the Knackerobot of his nightmares. The fearsome beast of fantasy and folklore was always after his gonads. He closed his eyes, and attempted to sleep.

 

* * * * * *

 

It had been a long night, and he’d slept fitfully. According to the wall clock, it was 6.01am when he awoke fully on what was an early summer morning, with aching arms and legs. Then the door opened, and a figure in black strutted inside. OMG….since Scary Sari was certainly such, and a Goth girl. She was clothed entirely in black leather, all of which was either studded or spiked, including her jacket, miniskirt, boots….and Gonads Gloves. Her short hair was jet black, and she wore matching makeup.

 

“Good morning….Peter,” she said with meaningless courtesy, “the receptionist let me in. I trust you slept well?” He shook his head. “No, as it happens,” he replied sulkily, “my limbs all ache abysmally, and my nose has been itching for what seems like hours. Also, I might mention having been raped twice.” She smiled without sympathy. “Too bad….” she said, setting down a big carryall, and pulling off the bedcovers, “….but studs should simply lie back and enjoy it….and be grateful they’re getting the goods….” clearly, the running gag was still going, “….was she one of your rapists?”

 

He nodded. “I suspected as such,” she replied, “since she said, ‘Shagger won’t be able to open the door.’ She also assured me I wouldn’t need to worry with any protection during poking….” Ohh, “….anyway, we’ll start off with some scrotum suffering, as indeed you asked. We’ll follow with a fuck, after which I’ll release you. It’s a fine morning, and we’ll take a nice long walk together.” She knelt between his legs, and took hold of his testicles with both hands. “Ohh….” he moaned as the short spikes stimulated separation, “….AHHH….” he added as she squeezed them between finger and thumb, “….AHHH….AHHH….AHHH….me balls….AYEEEEE….HEEE.” She licked her lips. “Clearly you’re a plums pain pervert, Peter,” she said, “since your shaft’s started to strain strongly. I was sure it would, especially after you asked Wanker Boy Will to knacker you naked yesterday evening….” guilty as charged, m’Lady, “….anyway, I’ll do it all again….only harder, longer and tighter.”

 

After another nine knackerings, he was sweating. “I suppose you like sex with spikes, Shagger?” she asked, as she stood up. “Yes, Ma’am,” he admitted. “Good,” she said, rummaging around in the carryall, “since I’ve brought three of The Hellholes.” He shivered. “NO,” he shouted. “Which is No as in Yes Please,” she said, “and spoken with some subaudition….as you also said yesterday….” rumbled,  “….first, I shall lie on you lovingly. Then it’ll be penile penetration plus plenty of pain….with both hands hard around your neck. Whilst your shaft is shafted….” what wit, “….it’ll be strangulation sex….so some Snuff Stuff, as asked….” would his course at the University of Lancashire be over before it had begun?

 

 

He watched whilst she unclipped her miniskirt and folded it to the floor. Interesting, since SHE was wearing naughty knicks….a natty number, of inevitable black frillies, “….I have a particularly potent cunt scent, which gives me a good line in mail-order for purchase by pathetic panty perverts….Peter. You can keep them as session souvenirs if you wish, at no extra charge.” She slipped them over his nose. “Uhhh,” he moaned, even as headlines from the news Of The world flashed in front of his eyes.

 

Sex Shock Horror Probe

A body was discovered yesterday in a so-called de-Sade Salon at The Regal Rooms, Paddington. Its identity is believed to be the notorious Panty Pervert Pete, scourge of saintly schoolgirls in public parks. Said Irma Ambrose, proprietor, ‘I can’t begin to imagine what had happened to him. He was found shackled to his bed, but there were no signs of a struggle. It must have been some sort of sordid sex scene which went a bit too far.’ The Metropolitan Police have decided the death was deserved. Said the recently promoted Inspector Spectre, ‘Frankly, he got what was coming to him….one way or another. At least he went out with a bang….since coitus had been completed.’

 

 

Somehow she’d put on the panties of laced leather without him noticing. He stared with sick fascination, even as he recalled the ancient schoolboy playground riddle. What’s a vicious circle? The answer was a cunt with spikes. “Ohh….OHH….ahh….AHH,” he gasped as she lay on him, and her leather clothing did its worst. “You understand I can’t quite kiss you,” she said softly, “but will do so through the material.” He shivered. “Mmmm….Mmmm,” he moaned as she did so, and he heard several celestial harps. Alas many more might be following fairly soon….for real.

 

 

Then she raised her rear, and slipped her right hand between their bodies. “Here we go, Peter,” she said, “enjoy the painful pleasure. “Ahhh,” he gasped as his penis passed the points. “AHHH….AHHH….AHHH.” Now she was fully fucked, but this was only the start of his suffering. She lifted herself on her elbows. “AHHH….AHHH,” he gasped as she humped him hard. He could hear her singing, softly.

 

“You only appreciate what you pay for

You don’t appreciate what you get for free

It’s payment in pain plus new pounds for your pleasure

with music and models and maidens….and me.”

 

All too soon, he felt her hands holding his neck. Then she clasped tighter, and started to squeeze. “AHHH….AHHH….AHHHK,” he gasped, feeling his tongue starting to loll out. “I’m cumming….AHHHK….YESS….UHHHK.” Suddenly he spurted, even as the lights went out.

 

“Welcome back to the land of the living….Davina….” she said with a wide smile. How…what….why? Then he realized he was wearing a black mini-dress with a matching wig, rubber boobs bra, fishnet tights and shoes, “….there’s no naughty knickers, but if you’re a shy flower, there’s now a choice of two in your attaché case. I took one of your Calling Cards….” Ohh, “….which will be kept completely confidential….” and a real relief, “….don’t worry, all your cash is present and correct, as I earn an honest dollar….” she smiled, “….I believe I’ve bonked your Chairman at some point in the past.” He smiled. “Sir Digby Vaillance,” he agreed, “he mentioned as much to me.”

 

She licked her lips. “So you know him?” she probed. “Yes,” he replied, “he’s my Patron.” She smiled. “It’s always good to have a friend in high places,” she said, “but as for the here and now, you’ve been out cold for almost an hour. I daresay your system used the opportunity to catch up on some sleep….” quite possibly, “….can you walk….and are you all right with high-heeled shoes?” He glanced up at the clock, and sure enough it was 7.10am. Slowly, he swung himself off the bed and stood up, slightly shakily. “Yes,” he replied, “I’m a virtual virtuoso, having had plenty of practice.”

 

She took his hand. “Then let’s have our morning constitutional,” she said, “around the streets of London….two Happy Hookers, or perhaps a pair of lovely Lezzies….” together, they strutted to the door, “….I took your key….” he opened it, and stood aside for her to pass into the corridor first, “….since you’re sort of respectable, we’ll take the lift. Had I done dogs, we’d use the fire exit….” she shrugged, “….maybe another time?” Possibly….as they entered, and he pressed the ground floor button, “….it’s unlikely we’ll be propositioned at this early hour, but I’ll fend off any fellas easily enough. You wanted huge helpings of humbling and humiliation….” she winked once, “….although I reckon it’s rather more incorrigible exhibitionism, especially after yesterday evening.”

 

They emerged and passed the desk. “We should be back in time for our booked breakfast at nine o’clock,” he said to Cyril Weeden. “Certainly….err….Mesdemoiselles,” the receptionist replied with a wry smile, “was it tea or coffee?” He looked at his pretty partner. “The latter….” she said, “….twice please,” he added as they continued out of the building. “His nickname is Seaweed,” he said as they started along SUSPECT STREET, “and now offers the option of the so-called Silver server….something we should see soon.” She nodded. “Where did you hear of The Hellholes?” she asked. “I owe them my existence,” he explained, “having been conceived through Number Twelve. It’s pure penile pain for the purpose of procreation.”

 

There was a soft snigger. “Ouch,” she said, “which is acute agony, and seven slightly sharp steel spikes. It properly punishes any potential penis passing to the pussy prize. Your dad must love your Mum a lot. Unless otherwise asked, I usually bring the lowest numbers, which are lengths of radial reinforced rubber….” progressively longer, “….you had Number Three, which I reckon was right for an obvious penile pain pervert.” Even so, his strafed shaft was still smarting slightly as they strutted their stuff along the streets.

 

According to the lobby clock it was exactly 9am when they reached The Regal Rooms again, with Ambrosia at the desk. “Good morning…. Mesdemoiselles,” she said, “Cyril’s just sorting you out now….” she pursed her lips, “….I’ll send Lady Alicia straight up when she arrives at eleven.” He nodded. “Thanks, Irma,” he said, heading for the lift. “I don’t recall mentioning anything to her about Licia,” she mused as they travelled up again. “She was listening on the line yesterday,” he replied as they continued along the corridor. “Remind me to be more discrete, Davina,” she muttered as they reached the room.

 

The door was open, so they strutted straight inside to where a waiter was finalizing the feast. He wore something similar to the Fig-leaf Apron attire, a natty number which only just covered the crotch. There was nothing else, except matching silver high-heeled shoes. His back and bottom were bare, apart from the knotted apron strings. These dangled down daintily, doubling as a black thong. They shifted as he swayed, suggesting the seat was strokeable….a treat for Tarts, but terrible tush tease. As always, the apron carried identification….subbie Cyril. “Thanks,” he said, reaching for his jacket, and handing over an NP6 note. “You’re welcome….Mesdemoiselles,” he replied, “I’ll collect the empties later.”

 

He too strutted to the door, and closed it behind him. “Nice arse,” she said. “It supplements his salary,” he explained, “by providing the possibility of patting or petting a pert posterior….or some surreptitious spanking for shoddy service. Do sit down…..may I pour you some coffee?” He too took a chair. “Half and half please, Davina,” she replied, as she selected some cereal, “you do forced into frillies ever so well. Are you sure you’re not a bi boy….?” he shook his head, “….I was intrigued by the naughty knickers you were wearing over your nose yesterday evening. When I checked on them earlier, I saw they were labelled Fleur. Is she your fiancée?”

 

He shook his head again as he poured out a cup, then a second for himself. “No,” he said as he started his own cereal, “merely one of my many Mistresses. I knew I’d need something for On-Stage Stooge, so she was kind enough to provide a pair for the purpose of pathetic panty perversion.” She sniffed. “How many is many?” she asked. “It’s around a dozen,” he replied, continuing to crunch his cornflakes, “mostly respectable married Ladies living in Letchhampton….of which fuckable Fleur is one such.” She uncovered a plate of fried food, and started to attack it. “Doesn’t hubby object?” she asked. “No,” he repeated, similarly starting his fry-up, “since he’s her cuckold, without an option. He has to watch his wonderful Wife at work, whilst suffering inside a KTB. Apparently he preferred Perusal of porn to poking pussy, so she laid down the law. But he’s an obvious oralophobe, so I have little sympathy.”

 

There was a short silence. “Was he there yesterday?” she enquired. “Yes,” he replied, in between mouthfuls, “although the session started on Thursday evening. We two enjoyed a romantic candle-lit dinner together, with him supplying naked waiter service throughout. Then he did the washing up, whilst she and I engaged in all manner of fun foreplay….primarily pleasing pussy. When he’d finally finished, we all adjourned upstairs. He was tied to a chair a few feet from the bed, and was required to watch me fuck her….dressed in her Pat Keysell costume. It’s always a fulfilment of a filthy fantasy, since they’re second cousins twice removed, and her pretty face always reminds of her. Vision On was an antiquated children’s TV programme from the 1970’s She wears a brunette beehive wig, which portrays the presenter perfectly. Apart from the matching boots, it’s a tightly-fitting striped stretch top, with the same three quarter sleeves I remember so well on AV Record. It went down to her waist….which was it, so she was open for business….” as they said in the trade, “….I fucked Fleur until she fainted. According to hubby, it’s what usually happens….and he should know…..

 

….After she’d recovered, he was made my whipping boy. I administered him a nasty nine in accordance with her cunt currency, whereupon he was put into a slave cage beneath the bed. We slept together in comfort above him until the morning. The locks released automatically at seven o’clock, when he was required to prepare and present breakfast in bed for us both. After another nasty nine, he went painfully to work, locked inside a chastity belt. I had another happy hour of fun and frolics. Then we showered together and dressed, whereupon she drove me to the railway station. I took the train to LondoN PaddingtoN, and checked in here upon arrival. I met up with Will, and we had high-tea in the restaurant. Then it was along to Soho….and the rest you already know.”

 

She mopped her mouth, and started on the toast. “A litany of lust,” she said, “had I not seen those naughty knicks, I’d have been tempted to suggest it was all fabrication rather than fornication....” very droll, “….anyway, looking forward, you’ve a further fuck from Licia when she arrives. What do you propose for your poking punishments….since you said you always accept the agonies?” He pursed his lips as he too buttered a slice. “It’s difficult to determine due discipline,” he said, “since I was swished soundly on stage for fairly fictitious felonies. I suffered around eighteen strokes, all of which were in Sex Thrashing style. My two previous pretty partners….” she interjected, “Rapists,” she muttered, “….suggested they subtract Six For Sex from the total….which leaves half a dozen to be set against your slit, if you’re amenable….?” she nodded, “….although we’re still short of some swishing, as regards our subbie slut.”

 

Right on cue, there was a knock on the door. “Entarrrr,” he called out automatically, watching her wince. “Very good….” she said, as it opened and Subbie Cyril emerged with an empty trolley, “….it sent a shiver down the spine, terminating in my twat….” she paused, clearly considering the fig-leafed figure, “….I think you’ve another whipping boy….Miss Davina. I’d really rather fancy flogging his fetching fanny.” The waiter bowed, provocatively. “Perhaps he’d be best over the Birching Block, Sari?” he suggested, “since it’s supposed to be a Caning For Cunt. Shall we say six strokes….and twendy new-pounds for his trouble?” At NP4 per whack, surely a good rate for the job? “Oo..er, yes MA’AM….” he muttered, handing her his cane, and then kneeling on the first step, “….business was bad this morning, especially with Wanker Boy Will taking one of my premium punters.”

 

At least it would only be for today, and Scary Sari arose. “Staccato style, in threes,” she said sternly, “and don’t worry if you’re not fully au fair with flogging etiquette. Just try to count correctly, and offer some sort of contrition at the close.” He nodded neatly. “Most certainly, Ma’am,” he said, “I’ve had plenty of practice with payable posterior punishments, since Shagger suggested I should start the system.” Another good deed done, it appeared.

 

SWISHHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHHTHWACKKKK     

“YEEE..EEEE..HEEE….THREE, thank you, MA’AM,” he yelped. “Perfect,” he said.

 

SWISHHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHHTHWACKKKK    SWISHHHHTHWACKKKK     

“YAROOO..OOO..HOOO….SIX, thank you, MA’AM,” he gasped, “I’m sure it’s discipline deserved, Ma’am….” he stared up at them, “….please, Ma’am….I’ve never been birched on the Block before. If I fail an erection inspection, perhaps it ought to be another three….ohh,” he added as she probed his penis. “I’m afraid you have,” she said, “somewhat spectacularly. Miss Davina can do the honours, and can ponder whether it’s payable pain.” He strutted across to the wall, and selected a suitable specimen. “Strictly speaking,” he said, “this flogging’s your own fault, especially as you almost asked for the agonies. However I’m not averse to adding another six new pounds for the privilege….so here we go. With this instrument, you should say Whacko! after each set of strikes.”

 

He nodded. “Yes, Ma’am,” he muttered….SWISHHHHCRACKK “….OOO….hit me harder,” SWISHHHHCRACKKKK “….HOOO….a GOOD one, Ma’am,” SWISHHHHCRACKKKK “….WOOO….Whacko!….thank you for my thrashing, Ma’am.” He set it down, and strutted back to his jacket. “Have half a dozen NP6 notes….” he said, as the waiter arose with a pained expression….plus a pulsing penis, “….I hope the hits were worthwhile.” He rubbed his raw rear ruefully. “Yes, Ma’am,” he replied, “they did dish such discipline at St Dominics, but only for serious sins. I always wondered about it….” he shivered, “….having heard how being beaten with the birch was….well, somewhat stimulating. I can only agree….and could get to enjoy it.”

 

He smiled wryly, “There’s always the British Birching Club,” he said, “with….well, branches all over the country. I happen to know there’s one at Holborn, if you’re interested….” he paused, “….was your school known at St Doms?” He nodded. “Yes, Ma’am,” he muttered, as he stacked the trolley, “with no shortage of Dominant dolts. There was also St Dominiques next door, with plenty of disciplinary Dommes….hence ITS nickname.” He strutted to the door and departed.

 

“So, Davina,” she said, unfurling a long rope from the ceiling, “we’ll have a second showing of Snuff Stuff. After all, there’s no noose like good noose….” what wit, “….slip off your dress….” he duly did so, folding it tidily to the floor, “….we’ll have hands held behind back, although I won’t blindfold you….unless you really want me to….?” he shook his head, as she handcuffed him securely, “….this MUST be a height of humbling, being hanged in high heels, whilst wearing a wig and boobs bra….” his pulsing penis provided confirmation, as she slipped the noose over his neck, “….you’ll have seen the pulley on the ceiling….” he hadn’t, but she was the professional, “….the free end’s tied to my waist, and I merely move backwards for as long as it takes. It leaves both hands free….” FLASHH “….I’ll add this to all the others. There’s no extra charge, and I’ll mail the prints to the hotel. I daresay they know where you really live.”

 

Which was probably true, since his philandering father had most likely used his home address. “Ohh….” he gasped. There was almost nothing he could do, since with his high-heeled shoes he was already on tiptoes, “….ahhh….ahhh….” FLASHH “….AHHH….AHHH….” again, he could feel his tongue lolling, “….AHHHHHH….AHHHKKK.” It was no good, he was definitely about to die, and felt himself falling into instant oblivion.