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.
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