MY INHERITANCE
Chapter 28 (Good BD)
Whipping Andy
When Uncle Bert built the house in Vail, he installed a dungeon in the basement,
complete with all the trimmings and trappings you might expect. Andy and I had
spent some delightful time at Mistress Diana's B&D emporium in New York but this
was the first time I had taken her to my own dungeon. Of course, she wanted to
go. Why else would see have started our wonderful fight upstairs? Do I need to
say it? I wanted to take her.
My hand was wrapped in her long blonde mane as I dragged her downstairs, my hand
at waist level, so she would be bent over in an awkward position. I opened the
dungeon door and pushed her in ahead of me. Directing her to stand under the
hoist, I said, "Stand right there."
"Certainly, sweetheart. Anything you want. I always want to please you, Davy.
All the time. I love you so much." She was shifting nervously from foot to
foot, her face anxious and sexy as she wrung her hands. I selected the
restraints I wanted from the cupboard and returned to her.
"Strip."
"Of course, honey." In one motion, her top was gone. Her eyes never left mine as
she slipped the bottoms off, leaving herself naked. Her body was undulating like
a snake, unable to keep still from sexual arousal and from anticipation, if they
are different.
"Sweetheart, you know I love you. We were just playing. Wasn't it fun? I had a
great time playing upstairs, didn't you?" I started fastening the suspension
restraint on her left wrist.
"Well, did you? I know how much you like to have fun and I was trying to please
you. What is this, honey? What are you going to do? Davy, I really love you, you
know." She leaned against me, letting her breasts crush into my chest as she
kissed me.
"I know, and I love you."
"So, what are you going to do? I mean, I really wasn't bad. I was just playful.
You would not want a girl without some spunk? Right? What did you say? A Porsche
without an engine? Isn't that right? Well, did you say that? About the Porsche?
I know what that means. It means you like a woman with spirit, with
intelligence. Right? That is right, isn't it? Davy, say something."
"You need to be quiet."
"Yes. All right. I will be quiet. Really. But, this is the first time you
have brought me down here. I was wondering. Well, since New York."
I was attaching the right one now. The suspension cuffs Uncle Bert had purchased
were leather and canvas. The person to be suspended formed a fist. The canvas
was a cover, holding the fist closed. The restraint was funnel shaped, fitting
wrist and hand, allowing both to take the weight when suspended.
"Please, Davy. Can we fuck? Now, here. Please. I want you to fuck me. Please.
Put your cock in me, sweetheart." She was begging me, pleading like a kid
wanting candy, hoping to divert me from her anticipated punishment. Her face was
so innocent and childlike but she could not hide the sexy gleam which kept
cropping up in her eyes. She would be horribly disappointed if I had stopped
her punishment to fuck her. And, she would have lost respect for me if I let her
divert me from my task.
"I thought I suggested you be quiet."
"You did. And, I am. Really. This is quiet, don't you think?" She was silent
for maybe five seconds. "See. Quiet. I am obedient. Very obedient. I try really
hard to please you, Davy. I love you. Just tell me what you want. Davy, you
aren't going to hurt me, are you? I really love you, Davy. Don't you think
maybe we should quit playing now? Isn't the game over?"
"Yes, Andy. The game is over." My voice was as cold as I could make it. Her eyes
got very big. That is not the answer she was expecting. I attached the chains
from the hoist to the heavy rings on the cuffs and pushed the button. The
electric motor came to life. She trembled as her arms slowly started moving
upward. She flinched as she yanked against the cuffs. For an instance, true fear
flew across her face as she realized in a moment she would be dangling naked by
her wrists.
"I love you so much. I would anything for you, sweetheart. Please. Davy, my arms
are being stretched. Davy." She was balancing on the balls of her feet, her
arms fulled extended above her when I stopped the hoist. I moved behind her,
arranging her blonde hair neatly like some gossamer garment.
"Davy, I love you. Please, don't hurt me. Please, Davy. All you have to do is
tell me and I obey. Just tell me, Davy. Anything, sweetheart. What do you want
from me?" In front of her now, I kissed her hard, my hand on the back of her
neck, my body against hers, knocking her off her tip toes so all her weight was
against me. Greedily, she kissed me in return, squirming against me as best she
could. I slipped a finger between her legs, the tip entering her. She was
dripping.
"It looks like somebody wants to be whipped," I said, wiping my finger on her
upper lip so she could smell herself. Her tongue flicked to savor the girly
juice.
"Not me. No way. I mean, no sane girl would want that, would she? Davy, please.
What are you doing now?"
I had lifted up one leg. I was attaching a leather restraint around her ankle.
Then, I did the other leg. She kept babbling and fighting for her balance as I
attached ropes to the restraints. One rope went through a ring on the left
wall, the other on the right wall. I pulled both, spreading her legs. She
squealed as her feet left the floor. I tied the rope ends together, holding her
at the spread position I wanted.
There she was. Her arms were a little wider than shoulder width, stretched above
her by the chains from the hoist. Her full weight was supported by her arms
which were bound in suspension cuffs. Her legs were spread almost two feet wider
than shoulder width and tried securely. She could not touch the ground. But, she
could twist and turn and squirm and move, which she was doing. Each movement
was delightful to watch as her muscles expanded and contracted, her breasts
jiggled. Being stretched made her twenty-three-inch waist even more narrow,
emphasizing the difference between it and her full, flaring, thirty-six-inch
hips. Her lush, D-cup, breasts never stopped moving invitingly. Her face was a
picture of lust and fear, framed by her blonde mane behind her. I made a video.
Too bad you cannot see it but close your eyes and let your mind make your own
video of Andy hanging in suspension, ready to be punished.
Of course, it was not real punishment. This was sex play. I knew that. You know
that. Right now, Andy was not too sure, which is part of the fun. Even her
nervous babbling had ceased. Her face was frozen in wide-eyed anticipation, her
mouth slightly open, her lips moist from her tongue which flicked over them
intermittently. She was starting to sweat. I love sweaty girls, particularly if
they are kittens hanging in suspension waiting to be punished.
I opened the cabinet where the whips hung, letting her see the display. She
gasped and squirmed harder, twisting like a sheet in the wind.
"Which ones should I use on you?" I asked evilly.
"Oh, they are all so nice, but I don't really think you need to use any of them.
I have learned my lesson, sweetheart. Really. I...."
"Since you have no ideas, I will select." I pulled out the most painful looking
one. It had a steel core, wrapped in leather, about four feet long. Really a car
antenna with a thin covering over the steel, it was very whip like and could cut
deep. I gave her a nasty, cold stare, pulled it back and slapped it hard against
the wall. It cracked like a rifle shot. She jumped and squealed. Her face
tuned beet red and she yanked against her restraints.
"Maybe this one." I pulled out the riding crop. Short, mean, in horsehide, it
was an excellent punishment tool and the one Mistress Diana taught us to use in
New York. In fact, this was one I bought there and Andy had felt it when we
were in training. She recognized it and gave me a knowing smile, remembering the
fun times we had.
"Let's start with this one," I said, removing a slapper from its hook. I heard
her sigh of relief when I closed the door to the cabinet. The slapper was about
a foot long and four inches wide, made of a flexible, medium thickness leather.
What gave it extra effectiveness was a second, lighter piece of leather. When
the slapper was slapped, the second piece of leather hit the first,
substantially increasing the noise without increasing the physical force, making
it sound like it hurt more.
Even though Andy was in good physical condition and strong, her arms were
already throbbing from being raised and from supporting her weight. That pain
depleted her energy supply which made the punishment more effective. I stood in
front of her slapping the slapper against my thigh. She could hear it and see it
in her peripheral vision, although her eyes never left mine.
"Anything you want to say?"
"I love you."
"Anything else?"
"Please, forgive me."
"You have done nothing which requires forgiving." I got a very warm, shy, little
grin for that.
I heard the door open but did not look. I knew Mary must have joined us. I was
standing in front of Andy, at an angle, so my left hand could play with her
front and my right hand, which held the slapper, could spank her back side.
"Anyone need anything?" Mary asked.
"No, thanks, Mom."
"Just a Diet Coke, please."
Andy turned her head to look at her mother. I saw that look. It was lust and
happiness. Oh, poor Andy. So afraid.
Lazily, I played with her nipple with my left hand, twisting it gently between
thumb and forefinger. She was looking at me, all her emotions exposed in her
face. That face, that lovely face, would tell me exactly how to punish her, how
to adjust the tempo and the force to make this her pleasure. She flexed the big
muscles in her shoulders, squirming slightly to turn towards me. Eyes closed,
she struggled to lean towards me to be kissed. I swatted her ass with the
slapper, getting a squeal for my effort. Her ass muscles quivered delightfully
as her eyes popped open, lust almost dripping from them.
The key is the left hand to tantalize and touch her. Her skin will be much more
sensitive in places and less sensitive in others. I watched her face, then swung
the slapper, which came up to wrap around the inside of her left thigh. Four
sharp blows from above, two on each thigh. "No! Please!" she barked. Every
muscle was straining now, trying to get away from the sting. Rhythmically but
lightly, a long series of slaps from the top of her breasts to her lower
stomach, between navel and pussy as my finger slid in and out of her ass hole.
She watched each blow land on her front, flinching involuntarily. I stopped,
letting her feel the heat building and massaged her shoulders.
Wrapping her hair in my hand, I pulled her head back until she was looking
directly up to the ceiling. Letting the slapper dangle from my wrist, I nibbled
her throat as my right hand roughly massaged her thighs where they join the
body.
Her breathing was ragged, hard. She was sweating profusely now, the perspiration
dripping to the floor. She groaned deep from her gut as I yanked her head back
further. My mouth found her left breast. I took her tender flesh between my
teeth and sucked, leaving a large hickey on the top of the breast where it would
be very visible when she wore a bra.
"Davy, Davy, Davy," she whimpered. She had been whimpering, moaning, very vocal,
as she continued to be. A hundred, no, a thousand times, she asked me to stop.
We both knew I would not and that she really did not want me to.
My cock hurt it was so hard. Behind her, I stripped, letting him free. Concerned
about what I was doing, she kept trying to swing around to see me.
She was an oven, with waves of heat rolling from her. I could see where the
slapper had met her flesh by the red, and, I could feel by the heat on her skin.
But, she generated more heat than that. Heat also came from the strain on her
muscles and the emotional stress of being whipped.
Mistress Diana had taught us one of the big mistakes a novice dominator (or
dominatrix) makes is the make the first blows too hard. They should be hard
enough to sting but not hard enough to cause more pain than the subject can
take. "Build up slowly," she had said. The purpose was to build sexual tension
and desire. It had been twenty minutes and it was working. We were ready for
the end game.
I took a few ice cubes from my Coke glass and held them against her pussy. Her
eyes, which had been closed, popped open and she shivered. I released the knot
on the ropes holding her legs and they fell to the floor. She struggled to get
her balance. I started swatting her ass hard with the slapper. With each swat,
she jumped and squealed until she started sticking her ass back, offering it to
the blow, anticipating, wanting, begging, in essence, for another. Then, a hard
slap across both nipples. She was thrashing violently.
Her golden hair was soaked from her sweat, plastered around her face and neck,
her eyes were wild and unfocused. She was so close. I stopped and stood back.
She was panting as if she had run a race. She shook her head, trying to make her
sex crazed mind determine why I quit. She saw me standing there.
I wish I could put a picture of her face here for you. It was pure, raw,
unadulterated, animal sex. She flexed her muscles like a lioness ready to
pounce, her eyes locked onto mine. She brought both legs off the floor, doing
the spilts as she hung from the ceiling. I brought the slapper up directly
across her pussy.
She screamed as her body began flopping like a fish out of water. I yanked her
legs up, spread them and wrapped them around my waist. I guided my cock into
her.
"Yes. Yes. Fuck me. Fuck my cunt, you bastard. Fuck me until I die!" she
screamed directly in my face, as she locked her ankles behind my back. Holding
her by the waist, I fucked her as hard as I could, feeling her pussy spasming.
Her face was lustful intensity as she moved up and down, guided by my hands but
propelled by her thighs around me.
"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," she screamed over and over, like some kind of
erotic prayer chant. I felt her thighs start to tighten and her pussy squeezing.
Slowly, her body straightened, her back arched as the pressure on my cock and
ribs became almost unbearable. Only the suspension cuffs, kept her from being
parallel to the floor. As it was, she was looking back at the wall behind her
although I am sure she saw nothing. Screaming ceased. Motion ceased. For an
instant, all was still. I thought my ribs would crack, the only sound I heard
being the bending of those bones like branches in a windstorm. She released her
breath like air escaping a pressure valve.
She relaxed, even her legs releasing their death grip. An insane laughter
exploded from her. Then, she tightened and arched, gasping wildly for breath as
an orgasm erupted in her. Contract-gasp, relax-laugh, came in a rapid fire
sequence until she passed out.
I fell to the floor as she dangled unconscious from the suspension cuffs. I lay
there trying to regain strength. Somehow, I managed to carry her in my arms
upstairs and put her in our big bed. I collapsed by her. I felt Mary cover us
over before I, too, passed out.
It was mid afternoon when I awakened. I untangled myself from Andy and wandered
towards the kitchen, moving slowly and feeling the tenderness in my sides where
her legs had held me. There I found a note from Mary saying she would be back by
four. Opening the refrigerator, I found a container of home made soup ready to
be nuked and a ham and cheese sandwich on bakery bread. I stuck the soup in the
microwave, got a quart of milk, a bag of potato chips, and the sandwich and sat
down at the table. I ate all that, two bananas, an apple and an orange, before
I went back in the living room.
I was resting with my eyes closed when I heard her. Andy was stalking towards me
from the bedroom. I could see the blue on her breasts and thighs, the
yellow-purple of the hickey, the red splotches from the slapper. Again, she
looked like a hunting lioness. She sat across my lap, drove her pussy down
against my crotch and seized my head in her hands. She kissed me hard, biting my
lip, sucking my tongue deep into her mouth. Holding my shoulders, she rolled out
of the chair, pulling me with her. She shoved me to the floor, and, in a
sixty-nine position, shoved her pussy in my face.
"Eat me," she said. Then, she wrapped her lips around my cock. I ate pussy as if
my life depended on it. No. I ate it like I loved it, which I did. She started
orgasming almost immediately, pumping her juices into my eager mouth. I do not
know how many orgasms she had before she collapsed and was instantly asleep.
See. None of this would happened if I had programmed Andy only to follow my
commands.
Andy was collapsed on me, her head on my leg, her fingers wrapped around my
cock, her pussy just inches away from my juice-covered face. I heard the door
open but did not move, thinking Mary was back.
I heard soft, feminine giggles. I squirmed to look back. My sisters were
standing in the doorway. Mom was wide eyed behind them. "You girls let me
through with this luggage," Dad said. He came into view, laden with baggage like
a camel on a desert caravan.
"Hi, son. Are we interrupting anything?" I could see him staring at Andy's
hairless and still swollen pussy and her ass with its red and blue splotches.
"How was Aspen?" I asked. I mean, what would you have said if your entire family
found you buck naked, your face covered in pussy juice, with a naked women on
top of you and holding on to your cock? I do not think Miss Manners has written
a column about this social situation.
"Oh, it was great, but we have to leave tomorrow and we wanted to spend the
night here with you," Mom chirped in.
Looks like I have a full house again. Fortunately, that is the way I like it.
To be continued . . .
Please! Give me your comments.
Email address: ezriter@hotmail.com
