Like Son, Like Father
Part Eleven
Leading Timothy by the shoulder-length black kidskin glove wrapped around his balls and hard-on, Denise walked him down a long basement corridor and around a corner. Then she unlocked a massive oak door with a skeleton key and led Timothy down a stone spiral staircase to an even deeper level of Chadwick Manor. In the dim light of wall lamps at the foot of the stairs, they paused briefly to let their eyes become accustomed to the dark. As Timothy peered into the gloomy depths, he was just able to make out what appeared to be rows of steel-barred cells along the stone walls on either side of a hall. Timothy stood utterly puzzled. From the length of the hall, he heard an occasional whimper. Then he suddenly realized that some of the cells contained prisoners!
"W-W-What is this?" stammered Timothy, gripped with fear.
"This is where Carolyn keeps the most hardened of her prisoners," said Denise. "And when I say 'hardened', I'm not talking about their attitude!"
"Is this where she's keeping my father?" asked Timothy. "No," said Denise. "Reverend Horsewick is staying where he works - in the stables. But there are several empty cages down here. We won't have any trouble finding one for you, Timmy."
"WHAT?!!" said Timothy.
Gripping the hand end of the glove wrapped around Timothy's male organs in one gloved hand and the open end in her other gloved hand, Denise pulled the noose of her glove until Timothy's balls were squeezed so tightly by leather that he doubled over in pain.
"What's the matter, Timmy?" asked Denise. "Does my glove have you by the balls?"
Timothy dropped to the floor, rolled onto his side and curled into a foetal position. As he lay there moaning, he became vaguely aware that several prisoners, mesmerized by the sight of the beautiful leather-clad woman standing over him, were masturbating furiously inside their cells. He could hear the sound of semen splattering on stone floors.
Again, Denise yanked her glove tight around Timothy's balls and cock. His screams echoed through the dungeon. Then, as she eased up and released her grip on the ends of her glove, Timothy's hard-on began to spasm and spurt gobs of cum onto the dungeon floor. Even though engulfed in unbearable pleasure, he sobbed from the intensity of his humiliation.
"Denise," cried Timothy in anguish, "I thought we were friends!" "
Timmy, sweetheart baby," said Denise in loving tones. "We are friends! But you're a male and I'm a female. Don't you understand, poor baby? We can never be equals! That's why I'm giving you the training you so badly need!"
Denise cupped his chin lovingly in the palm of the skin tight black leather glove sheathing her hand. She removed her long gloves from around Timothy's neck and cock and balls.
"Timmy," she said, "You know I would never be mean or cruel to you. But you must understand. A woman's brain develops much earlier in life than a male's does. We mature intellectually at a much earlier age. And that's why it's up to us to train you so that you don't remain immature little dorks all your lives. You want to be trained, don't you?"
"Y-Yes," said Timothy, scarcely believing what he was hearing himself say.
"Then, into your cage!" said Denise, pointing her leather-sheathed index finger into an empty cell. "I'll be by before long to take you to meet Carolyn."
Timothy crawled into his cell. At Denise's prompting, he pulled off his already unzippered pants, removed the rest of his clothing and tossed all his apparel on the dungeon floor at Denise's booted feet. Denise then clanged his cell door shut and locked him in. She unceremoniously kicked his belongings to one side with her boot, then turned and left.
Timothy's cell was furnished with a shower, washbasin and toilet. A simple cot with a pillow and sheets hung from one wall. He was supplied with toiletries but nothing beyond the essentials.
In the succession of days that followed, Timothy lost track of time. Deep below Chadwick Manor, there were no windows to admit daylight. He eventually attempted to reckon the passing of days from the intervals when the dim lights near the foot of the stairs were on. Because the prisoners received three meals during an interval when the lights were on, Timothy guessed that 'lights-on' corresponded to periods of daylight above. Meals of a gruel-like substance were always placed in a small cupboard-like box on the other side of a little door in the back wall of his cell. Whoever placed the bowls of gruel there would simply knock once and close the corresponding door on the other side of the wall. That outer door was always locked after the gruel had been left.
Timothy's cell had no table on which to set his gruel, and he was given no spoon with which to eat it. Because it was always served in a doggie bowl, Timothy guessed that he was supposed to set the bowl on the floor and eat from it on his hands and knees. Initially he resisted the inclination to do so, but eventually he gave in and ate his meals like a dog.
Every now and then, the door at the head of the stairs opened, and the prisoners heard the clicking of stiletto heels on the stone stairs. Beautiful young women wearing provocative leather outfits would come down into the dungeon to take a prisoner above for what seemed like several hours. Usually the women came in groups of two or three. When returned to their cells, prisoners would often have vicious-looking lash marks on their bodies.
On one occasion, Timothy asked one of three ladies if she would take a message to Denise. With a key in her leather-gloved hand, the young lady promptly opened the door to Timothy's cell. Timothy thought that he was finally going to be released. But the young lady immediately smacked his face with a leather-gloved fist while the other two restrained him by pinning his arms behind his back. Blood began to stream from one of Timothy's nostrils. The lady who had smacked him yanked off one of her long kidskin gloves and wrapped it around his wrists to tie his hands behind his back. With leather-gloved hands, the other girls pushed Timothy out of his cell into the middle of the dungeon hall. The girl who had smacked Timothy then removed the glove that tied his wrists together. She inserted her hand into her glove and began to work it back up her arm.
As she stood smoothing the black leather fingers of her glove over her own, she said, "Who do you think we are - your personal servants? A good whipping might teach you otherwise."
Timothy first recognized the young woman's voice and then her face. Peering into the gloom, he said, "J-J-Jennifer, is that you?"
Jennifer did not respond. The other two girls clapped handcuffs on Timothy and chained his bound hands to an overhead beam. The young ladies began to uncoil their bullwhips.
"N-N-NO, JENNIFER! PLEEEASE!" screamed Timothy, his heart pounding like a drum and tears starting to run down his cheeks.
Jennifer paused momentarily only to tighten her black kidskin glove before gripping her own bullwhip. She stood directly in front of Timothy while the other two girls stood to either side and a little behind him. Timothy's penis was now fully erect, pointing almost directly at the ceiling.
"J-J-JENNIFER, HERR, HERRR, HERRRRRRRR!" sobbed Timothy. He began to hear the heavy breathing of the other prisoners who were watching from behind the bars of their cells. Two or three were already starting to whack themselves off. Timothy stared in fascination and terror at the dim light softly gleaming off the skin tight black leather fingers of Jennifer's wicked glove as she gripped her whip. Jennifer sighted along the length of her other gloved arm and outstretched fingers to direct her lashes.
When the girls started cracking their whips against Timothy's naked flesh, he felt like firecrackers were exploding all over his body. Hanging from the beam, his body jerked violently in spasms of pain. As his feet kicked the air and tapped the stone floor, he appeared to be dancing a wild, frantic jig. His unearthly screams punctuated the fwip-CRACKS! of the bullwhips and easily drowned out the girls' playful laughter. Quite obviously, however, the young women were thoroughly enjoying themselves. With a gloved hand clapped over her mouth, one of the young ladies almost doubled over from laughter at one point. The girls took turns spinning Timothy's body around so that they all got to whip him simultaneously from different angles. Timothy's piercing screams became raspier and raspier as his throat grew nearly as sore as his lacerated flesh.
After about ten minutes, Jennifer said, "That's enough. Release the prisoner's handcuffs."
When his handcuffs were unlocked at one wrist, Timothy fell in a heap to the floor. Jennifer bent over to remove the cuff from his other wrist. In the dim light, she looked closely at the prisoner's tear-streaked face. Suddenly she gasped, "Timmy! Timmy Horsewick! Is that you? OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! What are you doing down here with the prisoners? Oh Timmy! I didn't recognize you! Why didn't you tell me it was you?"
Jennifer grabbed hold of Timothy's penis and yanked it in an attempt to help him stand up. A look of horror crossed Timothy's face. He thought Jennifer was going to pull his male organ right off in her leather-gloved hand.
"Oops! I'm sorry, Timmy," she said. "I sometimes forget how easy it is to grip a penis when I have gloves on. Here - grab the end of my whip, and I'll help you up. Oh, God! You poor baby! I really didn't know it was you!"
When Timothy was on his feet, Jennifer tenderly caressed his face with her leather-sheathed fingers. From the strenuous exertion of bullwhipping Timothy, she had perspired slightly inside her gloves. The rich fragrance of slightly damp, perfumed kidskin filled Timothy's head. The nipples of Jennifer's full breasts brushed against his bloody, lash-marked chest. With his every heartbeat, the underside of his throbbing pecker-head tapped against Jennifer's bare tummy. He wanted to skewer her and pump her full of sperm so badly that he was rapidly losing what little sanity he had left. He desperately tried to think up a line to seduce her, but nothing seemed right under the circumstances.
Suddenly, Jennifer said breathlessly, "Timmy, is your cot clean? Let's go inside your cage for a moment. I'm so hot and horny from whipping you that I can't wait for my boyfriend! I want a cock inside me right now!"
Inserting a leather-sheathed finger into her steamy pussy, Jennifer started tickling herself. With her other gloved hand, she slowly stroked Timothy's mammoth hard-on. One of the other two girls giggled, "Look at him, Jenny! He can't even think about resisting you! That old adage is so true: 'A cock in your glove is worth one in your bush!'"
Then the girl cracked her whip against Timothy's ass. All three girls giggled when he cried out and leapt more closely into Jennifer's kid-gloved arms.
"All right," said Jennifer sweetly as she led Timothy by his penis into his cell.
Meanwhile the other two girls unlocked one of the cell doors across from Timothy's and led the prisoner, collared and chained, from his cell. The prisoner called out to Timothy, "Fuck that bitch for me, kid! Shag her good!"
Instantly, one of the two girls cracked her whip across the prisoner's face. Howling in pain, the prisoner doubled over with his face buried in his hands. As soon as he took his hands away, the other girl straightened him up with a swift right uppercut. Her gloved fist flattened his nose. The hapless male reeled for a moment and then toppled to the floor. The first girl immediately placed her foot on the prisoner's upper chest with her stiletto boot heel ready to puncture his throat.
"Well, Thurston," she said. "You're off to a good start this afternoon, aren't you?" She pulled the chain attached to his collar to yank him onto his feet.
As the girls led their prisoner upstairs for his afternoon session, Jennifer sat on the edge of Timothy's cot and, tugging on his boner with her leather-gloved hand, drew him closer.
"Don't cum until you're inside me, Timmy," said Jennifer. With her gloved fingers wrapped around his shaft, she pressed the slit of his pecker against the tip of her right nipple. Timothy tried with all his might to keep his sperm-loaded penis from squirting all over her teat. Then she pulled his cockhead over to her other teat. Her kid-gloved hand rubbed his cock slit around her left nipple.
Then she took the head of his blood-engorged penis in her mouth while cupping his balls in her gloved right hand. Timothy nearly fainted as his balls nestled into the warmth of Jennifer's kid-gloved palm while her leather-sheathed fingers curled around the back of his sack. With her left gloved hand, she began to stroke his shaft and knead his foreskin while licking her tongue around his purple pecker-head. Timothy gritted his teeth to keep from exploding in her mouth. Just when he thought he could take no more, Jennifer laid back on the cot and pulled Timothy onto her. He rubbed his massive boner up the inside of her thighs and then slid it between the syrupy lips of her vagina. He instantly exploded inside her. Jennifer folded a leather-gloved palm over Timothy's mouth and caressed the back of his head with her other gloved hand while Timothy furiously rammed his rock-hard boner deep inside Jennifer's pussy.
"OH MY GOD, TIMMY!" shrieked Jennifer. "IT FEELS SO GOOD WHEN YOU FUCK ME! It's as delicious as working on a new pair of kid gloves! GOD, YES! Shag me, you little runt! FUCK MY BRAINS OUT!"
As Jennifer's gloves caressed his beet-red face, Timothy's explosions of pleasure built to a crescendo inside her. Timothy felt as though his entire being was surging into Jennifer. The veins on his forehead throbbed. With his final thrust, Jennifer almost feared that her worshipper, consumed in pleasure, might suffer a heart attack. If he did, she thought, it would be because of her gloves - skin tight black kidskin gloves that she knew tormented Timothy's soul and hardened his pecker to the point of unbearable and unfathomable pleasure. Jennifer knew that her advantage over him was completely unfair. That was part of what made it so delicious. As one of the other girls who had whipped Timothy implied: he was helpless. He could not even contemplate resisting the lure of Jennifer's satanic black leather gloves.
After his orgasm, Timothy was asleep even before his shrunken penis had popped out of Jennifer's pussy. Even though she overflowed with his semen, Jennifer was ready for another round. But she also knew that Timothy would take awhile to recover for a second blast. Leaving him sleeping on his cot, she locked his cell door and went upstairs to see how prisoner Thurston was cumming with his training.
Click here for Part Twelve