Denise reached into a handbag that she had set on the couch next to Timothy and pulled out a shoulder-length pair of unlined black kidskin gloves.  Timothy’s heart pounded and his cock throbbed as he sat waiting, expecting Denise to remove the short black leather gloves she already had on and put on the long ones. 

Through the one-way window looking down onto the game room, Timothy saw his naked father crawling around on his hands and knees while Timothy’s childhood sweetheart, Stacy, and the beautiful Carolyn whipped him without mercy.  The cracks of their bullwhips echoed loudly in the spacious room.  It seemed as though each woman was trying to outdo the other.  But while Stacy simply whipped the Reverend as often and hard as she could, Carolyn whipped him more thoughtfully and deliberately.  The difference in their experience handling a bullwhip showed markedly.  As Stacy repeatedly lashed out with her whip, Reverend Horsewick sobbed and howled, “AWWW, WAUGH-HAUGH-HOO-HOO-HOO-HOOOO!  WA-HOO-HOO-HOO-HAUGH!”  But, with every crack of Carolyn’s whip, the Reverend, would scream in agony and spasm with pain.  Lash marks covered every square inch of his rump and back.

Timothy saw Carolyn motion his father toward her with her leather-sheathed fingers.  As the sobbing parson crawled on his hands and knees, Carolyn suddenly held her gloved palm up before him with her black, leather-sheathed fingers outstretched to motion him to stop.  The light gleamed off the palm of her glove tautly stretched like a second skin that was interrupted only by the sensuous curve of her glove’s thumb seam.  Through the top of the opening where her glove buttoned at her wrist, the Reverend could just glimpse the very bottom of Carolyn’s palm – the ‘heel’ of her hand – inside her glove.  As the Reverend was visualizing how the inexpressibly soft suede interior of Carolyn’s gleaming black, unlined kidskin glove caressed her hand between each of her fingers, Carolyn suddenly cracked the tip of her whip on the Reverend’s brow right between his eyes.  When the Reverend screamed and lowered his head, Carolyn cracked the tip of her whip on the side of his neck just below his ear.  Blood trickled from the parson’s neck onto the floor.

“I CAN’T TAKE ANY MORE!!!” screamed the Reverend.

In soothing tones, Carolyn replied to the sobbing parson, “Again, you underestimate yourself, Reverend.  Of course, you can take more – you’re such a big, burly man.  But I think that’s enough for today.  You’ve earned yourself a nice reward.”

Gripping the parson’s nose between her gloved thumb and index finger, Carolyn led him over to a bed set up on the game room floor.  She pushed the parson onto the bed.  With the Reverend lying on his back, Carolyn climbed onto the bed and lowered herself into a position with her booted knees resting on either side of the parson’s head and her pussy against his chest just below his chin.  With a tenderness that surprised Timothy, Carolyn gently caressed his father’s sobbing face and let him kiss her skintight black leather gloves for several minutes.

“These are the gloves that whipped you, Reverend – the gloves that have you crying in so much pain – crying like a baby.  But you would do just about anything to please these beautiful gloves, wouldn’t you?”  purred Carolyn.

“God, yes!” said the sobbing minister.

“Well, you have made our whips and gloves very happy today, Reverend,” said Carolyn.  “How would you like to give my right glove, the one that held a whip and used it on you, a nice tribute?”

“Y-Y-Yes!” said the parson, beginning to drool at the corner of his mouth.  “P-P-Please let me worship your glove!”

“They excite you, don’t they, Reverend?  Our gloves excite you very much.”

“Y-Y-Yes!”

“So, are you going to show us just how much our gloves thrill you by paying a nice tribute to the one that whipped you?” asked Carolyn sweetly. 

“P-P-Please!”  moaned the Reverend.

Carolyn Chadwick placed her gloved left hand on the parson’s teary face with her palm over his mouth and his nose wedged between her index and middle fingers.  The sweet, musky kidskin aroma of leather filled his head.  Then, reaching back behind her, Carolyn gripped the head of his throbbing boner with her right glove.  The sperm-oozing slit of his cockhead nuzzled comfortably into the leather palm of her glove while her leather-sheathed fingers kneaded his foreskin.  Timothy could see his father franticly trying to get enough air with Carolyn’s other gloved hand over his face.  Meanwhile, Stacy cupped the Reverend’s balls with her left gloved hand and began to stroke the rigid shaft of his 12-inch-long boner below where Carolyn’s gloved fingers were kneading the foreskin.  At times, Stacy stroked him gently and soothingly; and at other times, her gloved hand jerked his boner roughly – almost as though she were milking a barnyard cow.  But, as the parson’s muffled moans of pleasure increased, Stacy began to let her gloved hand glide lightly up and down the length of his rock-hard shaft while tickling and caressing his balls with the fleecy-soft fingers of her other glove.

Carolyn reminded Horsewick, “Those gloves working your erection, Reverend, are the new ones you brought to Stacy on your knees.  Aren’t you glad now that she wears such nice gloves and that she’s willing to share with you some of the pleasure that wearing them gives her?  Or do you still resent her merely because she chooses to wear what every woman has a right to wear?”

As Carolyn’s question reverberated through the parson’s brain, pleasure flooded every fiber of his being.  His muffled moans grew louder and louder.  Stacy felt his balls suddenly jerk in her glove as the Reverend’s sperm-loaded cock tensed and seemed to harden into steel.  Suddenly, a torrent of unbearable pleasure erupted up the length of Horsewick’s throbbing shaft.  With the palm of Carolyn’s right glove pressed over the slit of his boner, his semen struggled for release, prolonging the mind-bending pleasure of his orgasm.  Slowly, frothy semen began to ooze from between the black leather fingers of Carolyn’s glove – creaming her glove with cum as she continued to knead his foreskin while Stacy milked the shaft. 

“Ooooo!  That looks gooey!” said Stacy as torrents of creamy cum ran down the Reverend’s horse-sized wick.  She inserted a kidskin-sheathed finger into her pussy and began to pleasure herself.

When Reverend Horsewick’s erection finally subsided, Carolyn Chadwick held her right glove over his face and let his cum drip onto his cheeks and into his eyes and mouth.  She told him, “That was a very nice homage, Reverend – even if Stacy and I have to have our gloves professionally cleaned.  But we would be indiscreet if we dropped sticky, gooey gloves off at the cleaner’s.  A true gentleman always licks his cum off a lady’s glove before she takes it to the cleaner’s.”

While the Reverend reverently licked the ladies’ gloves clean, Denise reached under Timothy’s hard-on with her leathered hand and held his balls up off the couch.  Then she looped one of her elegant black shoulder-length kids under his balls and around the base of his erection.  She wrapped her other shoulder-length kid around his neck.  With her leathered fingers under his chin, she gently nudged him up off the couch. 

“W-W-Where are we going, Denise?  Up to your room?” asked Timothy meekly.