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...........