LADIES IN LEATHER GLOVES

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Like Son, Like Father

 

Part Fifteen

Timothy awoke in a state of terror.  His cell seemed to be reeling around him.  He sat up on the edge of his cot and tried to collect his wits.  The dim lighting had been turned back on, and that helped him shake the dream from his head.  But in the wake of his dream, horny desire accompanied by a sense of incompleteness swept over him.  He felt somehow lacking whatever women might desire, and yet he was simultaneously filled with wanton lust.  He felt almost on the verge of an orgasm.  He had experienced such lust before, but only in the presence of a beautiful woman.  With no obvious stimulus in sight, he was hard-put to explain why he felt so horny, so driven and consumed with desire.  Could it be that the dream was still so fresh in his head?  Timothy had a feeling that he had awoken too soon.  Despite his initial state of terror, he wanted to fall back asleep and dream some more.  He felt almost as though, by waking him, his momentary terror had robbed him of the conclusion of a fabulous dream.   

Suddenly, Timothy realized his cell door was slightly ajar.  For a moment, he remained sitting on the edge of his cot while staring dumbly at the unlocked door.  Then he noticed that a basket of folded clothing had been set on his cell floor next to the wall opposite his cot.  He got up and took a look.  It was the clothing he had worn on the day Denise had brought him to the dungeon - all freshly laundered!  A folded note was lying on the pile of clothes.  Timothy stepped out of his cell and went over to the dim lamp at the foot of the stairs to read the note.  The first thing he noticed about the message was that it was signed by Carolyn Chadwick.  It read: 

  "Timmy - Denise was unexpectedly called out of town just over a week ago due to a death in her family.  She called last evening and asked me to extend her apologies to you.  She explained that she had left you locked in one of the dungeon cages with the expectation that she would be training you.  Then she received news of her relative's unexpected death.  She apologizes for having forgotten you, and hopes that you will be willing to resume your training when she returns in the very near future.  Meanwhile I would like to discuss a personal matter relating to your father with you.  Would you be able to meet me in my second floor study this morning?  I have to counsel one of the prisoners and take some others out for a morning run, but I expect to be back in my study around 11:00 am.  Hope to see you then!  - Carolyn Chadwick."

   Timothy immediately wondered what time it was now.  He rushed to his cell and groped through his clothing to find his watch.  Then he rushed back over to the lamp.  The digital display on his watch read 10:23 am.  In his exhaustion, he must have slept far past his usual eight hours.  He rushed to shower and shave in the dim light to make himself presentable.  The soap and water stung the wounds and welts left from the merciless whipping that Jennifer and the other girls had given him.  His cock stiffened as he thought about their leather-gloved hands holding whips, his piercing screams echoing off the vaulted ceiling of the dungeon hall and the girl's playful laughter at his pain and misery.  He had fucked Jennifer once afterward, but one fucking was not enough.  He felt that he had to fuck her again and again.  If he shagged her for all eternity, he would still want to shag her some more.  Who did that gloved bitch think she was to control his mind, his body, his very soul so completely?  His cock trashed about in the shower spray as he thought about beautiful, arrogant Jennifer in her skintight, shoulder-length black kidskin leather gloves.  Knowing that he would never be able to stuff his hardened cock into his trousers, he turned the cold water on full blast to shrivel his boner before getting into his clothes.  Once dressed, he was about to rush up the stone staircase when he paused and thought to go back a moment to say something to Wilbur Longwood.  But when he went back, he saw that the door to Wilbur's cage had also been left open.  Wilbur's cell was empty.  Could Wilbur have been one of the two prisoners to whom Carolyn Chadwick had alluded in her note?

   Timothy bounded up the stairs, rushed down the basement hall and ran in leaps and bounds up the stairs to the first floor of the manor.  He barely paused before racing up the staircase to the second floor.  Then he saw the doors open to what must surely have been Carolyn Chadwick's study.  He noticed that the time on his watch was 10:59 am.  With long strides, he walked quickly toward the study entrance but paused briefly before reaching the edge of the doorframe to try to control his panting.  His chest heaved while his heart pounded and raced.  Timothy then heard whimpering and sobbing sounds coming from inside the study.  Next he heard the crack of a whip followed by an anguished scream.

   "Please come in, Mr. Horsewick," called Carolyn Chadwick in a calm, elegant tone.  There's no reason for you to wait panting in the hallway when you can do the same in here."

   Timothy entered the study.  He immediately noticed a naked male kneeling on the carpet in the center of the room.  The male knelt with his left shoulder toward Timothy and the study entrance.  He appeared to be in his mid-thirties but with prematurely grey hair.  His slender body had quite obviously been lashed repeatedly with a whip.  Quaking, he knelt with his arms and hands extended out in front of him.  The backs of his hands almost seemed to glow red - possibly from being whipped.  He also had an enormous erection, which bobbed in the air as he tried to choke back his tears.

   Carolyn Chadwick stood leaning back against the front of her large mahogany desk on the other side of the male opposite Timothy.  From her manner of dress, she looked as though she had been out riding.  She was wearing a silk paisley blouse, tan riding breeches and black riding boots.  Her hands, gloved in skintight black leather, rested on the front edge of the desk with her fingers curled over the edge as she leaned back.  Light gleamed off the leather stretched like a second skin across her knuckles.  The gloved palm of her right hand pressed against the handle of a whip lying on the desktop.   

  "Very good, Wilbur," she said in a quiet, almost soothing tone.  "You have finally learned not to withdraw your hands to avoid the crack of my whip.  You know now what will happen if you withdraw them, don't you?"

   "Y-Yes, Ms. Chadwick.  I'm so sorry!" sobbed Wilbur Longwood.  "Please!"   

  Suddenly, Carolyn lashed out again with her whip.  Cracking against the backs of Wilbur's naked hands, Carolyn's whip opened a bloody wound on the right one.  Wilbur quaked and screamed in misery but did not try to protect his hands by withdrawing them.  With her gloved left hand, Carolyn motioned for Wilbur to get up off his knees and walk over to her. 

  "Wilbur," she said, "I think your rehabilitation is nearly over.  Tell me what you have learned from your stay here."

   "Ms. Chadwick," replied Wilbur, "I have learned that I am not to pleasure myself with my hands in public - no matter how excited I might be.  I am to keep my pants zipped and my hands off my penis."

   "Exactly so, Wilbur.  Exactly so," spoke Carolyn softly.  "Regardless of how excited you might be.  And you know that you tend to get very excited, don't you, Wilbur?"

   "Y-Yes, Ms. Chadwick."

   "Tell me what gets you so excited, Wilbur."

   Timothy almost felt like cringing as Wilbur sobbed in embarrassment.

   Wilbur began to blubber, "B-B-Beautiful women wearing, wearing."

   "Wearing what?" prodded Carolyn, holding his chin with her fleecy-soft leathered fingertips.

   "Skintight leather gloves!" cried Wilbur in abject humiliation.

   "But now when you see a beautiful woman wearing leather gloves, you will be able to control your reaction, won't you?" teased Carolyn.

   "I don't know.  I'm not sure I know what you mean," said Wilbur.

   Well," said Carolyn, "I'm wearing gloves right now, am I not?"

   "Y-Y-Y-Yes," said Wilbur.

   "And there's no reason that my leathered hand on your penis should have any effect on you at all, right?" said Carolyn as she began lightly stroking Wilbur's long wood with her gloved hand.  "You're a big, strong man, right?  It should be easy for you to resist a woman's glove.  No matter how much my gloved hand strokes your penis, it should mean nothing to you, right?"

   "OH, GOD!" cried Wilbur in simultaneous pleasure and anguish.  "You know what you're doing to me.  It's not fair!  You know it's not fair!"

   "No, it's not," said Carolyn.  "It was never intended to be fair.  But it's the way it is; and you, as a male, have to learn to deal with it.  Otherwise, every time you see a leather-gloved woman, what's going to happen?"

   "OH, GOD!" exclaimed Wilbur, barely able to catch his breath.  "PLEASE!"

   "Please what?" asked Carolyn, as her elegant hand sheathed in its black leather glove stroked the foreskin up and down over the purple-red head of Wilbur's throbbing boner.  "Please stop stroking you?  I thought you liked my gloves!"

   "P-P-Please," gasped Wilbur, looking like he was out of his mind from the nearly unbearable pleasure.  "Please!  PLEASE FINISH ME OFF!" 

  As Wilbur stood with his head flung back, he appeared to be in a state of total rapture.  Drool streamed from both corners of his mouth.  Carolyn's black leather glove now became a grey blur as her hand flashed up and down along the ten-inch length of his rock-hard shaft.  She began to hear a faint sloshing sound.  With her other hand, Carolyn reached down and cupped Wilbur's balls in the softness and warmth of her leather-sheathed palm and fingers.  Timothy wasn't sure whether he was seeing things, but Wilbur's shaft seemed to grow about another inch and a half.  Then Carolyn released her gloved grip on his shaft.  Wilbur's boner was left bobbing and trashing wildly in the empty air. 

  At this point, Carolyn held her left hand up in front of Wilbur's face with her leather-sheathed fingers outspread so that the light softly gleamed off the black leather stretched tautly across her palm.  The sensuous thumb seam of her glove was nearly touching Wilbur's nose.     

  "It's only a glove," said Carolyn in a breathless voice as soft as kidskin.

   Timothy could easily see Wilbur's heart pounding while his chest heaved.  Suddenly an enormous gob of cum spurted unassisted from Wilbur's penis.  It jetted across the room and splattered on the leaf of a potted plant sitting in front of the opposite wall.  Without thinking, Wilbur instantly took his penis in his own hand and frantically jerked himself off.  Only when he had finished, did he seem to realize what had happened.

   With a wan smile, Carolyn folded her arms across her chest.  Shaking her head slowly, she said, "Wilbur, I think we have a lot more work to do with you after all.  But right now, I want to talk with Timmy.  I'll postpone your whipping until tomorrow, and you can clean your mess up then.  Right now, you are to return to your cage and lock yourself in."  Having said that, she pointed him out of her study with a leather-sheathed finger.   

Once Wilbur had left, Carolyn walked over to a narrow table standing along one side of her study and sat down facing Timothy.  She set her whip down on the table in front of her.  Then she asked Timothy to close the study doors and join her at the table.  When Timothy sat down facing her, Carolyn reached under the table and pulled off her black leather riding boots.  Then she pulled her knees up to her chest and sat with one foot on the edge of her chair and the other foot pressing against the edge of the table.  For a long moment, she held her gloved hands with palms pressed together in front of her face with the leather-sheathed tips of her index fingers lightly touching her lips.  Tresses of her light brown hair cascaded down over her right eye.   

Timothy was utterly fascinated by her.  Carolyn seemed to be a mass of contradictions.  She was cruel and yet considerate, elegant and sophisticated and yet somehow girlish.  But more than anything, she was both prim and lascivious at the same time.  As she sat looking at Timothy, she idly played with the fingers of her gloves.  At times, she would clasp her gloved fingers together.  At other times, she would suggestively smooth the leather over her fingers and wiggle her fingers seductively.  Timothy was so horny that he could scarcely maintain his sanity while watching her seemingly unintentional glove display.  'Idle hands are the devil's playground,' thought Timothy to himself - especially if they're sheathed in fleecy soft, wicked black leather.  Suddenly his boner loudly thumped the underside of the table, as if straining to be released from his baggy trousers.   

"Ahem," said Carolyn.  "So, Timmy, we finally meet.  I want you to know that your father has made and continues to make tremendous progress.  Timmy, I need to talk with you at this point.  Your father and I are planning on getting married next autumn."   

"WHAT?" cried Timothy in stark amazement. 

   "Yes," said Carolyn.  "We're going to marry.  Your father will become my permanent sex toy, and you will be my stepson.  That's why it was important for me to know that, if you were let out of your cage, you would come willingly to me.  It's important for me to know that you and your father are so much alike.  'Like father, like son!'  Or should I say, 'Like son, like father'?  You see, Timmy, in my house - here in Chadwick Manor - it's very important to me that I'm in charge, not only of your father but of his son as well.  In my house, you and your father are always to understand that, as lady of the manor, I wear the gloves.  And you know the old saying, Timmy: 'The hand that wears the glove wields the whip.'  And the hand that wears the glove must be kissed.  I know that you understand that as well as your father."   

Then Carolyn laughed in a delighted, girlish sort of way.  "Feeling a little horny?" she asked.  "We've been feeding you a special formula.  It's something new and completely experimental that I've been working on.  I give it to some of the prisoners in their gruel as a reward for good behavior.  Of course, they don't know.  The formula accelerates sperm production so that you can come again and again - all night long if you want - without ever running out."   

"Have you been 'feeding' that to Wilbur, too?" asked Timothy.  "Is that why you were able to control him so completely?"   

"Not at all," responded Carolyn.  "Not at all.  I didn't mean to imply that the formula makes a male hornier than he actually is.  There is absolutely nothing that can increase the natural male sexual response.  You males are already infinitely horny to begin with.  All that the formula does is give you staying power so that, instead of having to wait hours to fully replenish your sperm after an orgasm, you're up and ready to go again and again almost instantly.  But the formula can't increase the actual pleasure that you experience because that pleasure is already infinite anyway.  Anyway you slice it, males were made to be dominated.  Formula or no formula, I can induce an erection just by standing on the other side of a room.  But you already know that, don't you, Timmy?"   

Timmy felt Carolyn's stocking-clad foot rubbing his hard-on under the tabletop.  He tried not to let his facial expression betray his reaction but knew that he failed utterly.  With an expression of gleeful delight, Carolyn picked her whip up off the table and toyed idly with it as she seductively ran the braided cord through her leather-gloved fingers.  Timothy thought that she almost seemed to know some sly secret that gave her a sense of pleasure.  That secret, he thought, was no secret at all; it was her supremacy and total dominance over men.  And yet, despite her very obvious sexual superiority, Carolyn Chadwick did not seem distant and aloof.  It was as if she was so certain of her supremacy that she felt no necessity to flaunt it.  She merely reveled in the pleasure it gave her - the pleasure of knowing that she could have any male eating from the palm of her glove any time she wanted. 

   Timothy watched in fascination as Carolyn began to remove her short, black leather gloves finger by finger.  When she had finished, Carolyn tossed the supple leather gloves to one side on the table.  Timothy could not help but notice that, due to the tight fit of her gloves, the seams had left temporary imprints on her hands.  He particularly noticed the imprints left by the thumb seams around the base of each of Carolyn's thumbs and the imprints of the seams along the sides of her hands. 

   Timothy reflected that her gloves left imprints not only on her hands but also on his psyche.  It had always amazed Timothy that, whenever he had once seen a woman wearing leather gloves, he could never quite regard that woman in the same way again.  From that moment on, it was as if she had become a goddess for eternity.  Even if her hands were bare, Timothy could never forget that those female hands had once been gloved in leather.  The effect was even more pronounced if it was obvious that the woman had worn her gloves not for any practical reason but merely for the sake of appearance.  And possibly for her own pleasure!  Not only did gloves transform women into irresistible sex goddesses.  They enveloped their beautiful wearers in an aura of pulse-quickening mystery as well. 

   "I've been wearing gloves all morning," said Carolyn.  "Have you ever worn gloves for hours on end like that?" asked Carolyn with a beautiful smirk.  Of course, Carolyn knew that Timothy's answer would be 'no'.  She continued to rub his boner with her foot under the table.  Suddenly she picked up her gloves and casually flipped the limp fingers against the palm of her left hand.   

"Timmy," she said, "I've spent much of the morning on horseback - out taking some of the prisoners for their morning run.  I need to freshen up a bit, and you seem rather distracted just now.  Why don't you come to my bedroom a little later this afternoon?  It's the next room over.  You can enter from this study or through the door off the hall.  Just knock first." 

  "Okay," gulped Timothy.   

  "Fine," said Carolyn.  "I'll see you around two o'clock, then."

 

To be continued...........