Gay Erotic Stories

Chapter 28 - 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 splits 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. ____________ Additional stories by E. Z. Riter can be found at www.storiesonline.net, and ftp://ftp.asstr.org./pub/Authors/E.Z.Riter which contains all the author’s stories.