Like Son, Like Father
Part Three
To Timothy, little more than five minutes seemed to have passed when he felt
warm
leather pushing against his shoulder. As he slowly awoke from his slumber,
he
became aware that Denise, standing by the bed, was gently nudging his shoulder
with
her gloved left hand.
"Wake up, Timmy!" she said. "We've been sleeping almost 40 minutes, and
we're
missing the rest of the party! Jennifer has already gone back out."
Denise had turned the tiffany lamp on. She had already put her
stiletto-heeled
fashion boots back on and was busy smoothing the black leather fingers of her
right
glove over her own fingers. The fit was so tight that Timothy could see
Denise's
thumb and fingernails outlined in the gleaming black kidskin.
"Is that a new pair?" he asked.
"No," said Denise. "They're the same kids I wore to bed with you, but I
had to take
them off to lace up my boots. Hurry, Timmy! You're already starting
to get a
boner! Don't look at me. Just get into your pants and zip them up!"
Timothy rolled out of bed and quickly got dressed. By the time he had
finished
zipping his pants and turned around, he saw Denise reapplying her lipstick as
she
stood naked except for her boots and gloves in front of her dresser mirror.
He
watched in the mirror with fascinated longing as she moved the tip of her
lipstick
over her sensuous lips. Only the tiniest ripples appeared in the leather
that
sheathed her thumb as she held the gold lipstick casing with her black-leathered
thumb and fingertips. As he watched her, he realized that he was not the
same
person who had left the Church dance about a couple of hours earlier. He
was not
sure that he could ever go back to being that person. He had descended
into a life
of wicked pleasure and sin. He did not know how to resist Denise.
Denise finished touching up her make-up. Then she lit a cigarette and
picked her
coiled bullwhip up off the dresser top. Holding her cigarette between
gleaming
black leather-gloved fingers, she strolled over to where Timothy stood
transfixed.
Timothy could not help but stare at her wickedly gloved hand as she held her
whip
against her hip with her black leather glove stretched like a second skin across
her
knuckles.
When Denise and Timothy were in their bare feet, he was about an inch taller
than
she was. But in her stiletto-heeled boots, Denise seemed to stand at least
two
inches taller than Timothy. Holding Timothy with her bullwhip against his
rump
while gently stroking the back of his head with her other gloved hand, Denise
asked,
"What's wrong, Timmy? Are you okay? You seem a little upset or
something. Please,
tell me what it is."
"I-I don't know," said Timothy. "I feel all mixed up inside. It's
like I no longer
have any will of my own. I c-came here to see Stacy, but now I think I'd
rather
spend the whole night with you, Denise."
"I think you should go to see your friend, Timmy. After all, you came here
to see
her. Would you really want to leave without doing that?"
"N-no, of course not," said Timothy. Then, in a trembling voice, he asked,
"Denise,
w-w-what's that whip for?"
"Is that what has you in such a state?" said Denise, caressing his face with her
gloved palm. "Don't worry, Timmy, sweetheart. I'm not going to whip
you tonight.
You're not quite ready for that, yet. But you are a different person from
the boy I
met at the front doorstep. You're a man, now. The way you pumped me
in bed tonight
proves that. I almost thought you were going to squirt your brains out!
But let's
go and find your friend Stacy now. There's a game room in the basement of
the north
wing. I'll bet she's there. Come - I'll help you find her."
Timothy said, "Are you going out into the hall n-n-naked like that?"
"No, of course not," said Denise. She crushed out her cigarette in an
ashtray,
walked back to her dresser and put a mask on. It was just a slender band
of black
leather with two large oval slits for her eyes. She tied it loosely in
back of her
head. Then she led Timothy out into the hall and locked her door behind
them. She
slipped her key into the top of her boot.
As Timothy followed Denise down the hall and stairs, his erection returned along
with the aching sense of longing that he felt toward Denise. Everything
about her -
the small of her back, her beautiful naked ass, her long gorgeous legs encased
in
leather boots, the sound of her heels clicking on the stone and hardwood floors,
and
especially her leather-gloved hands, one of which was clutching a coiled
bullwhip -
filled him with infinite desire and lust. As he walked with her past open
doors, he
heard moans of pleasure along with an occasional sharp crack followed by a
scream of
pain and sobbing.
"Denise, which sorority house is this?" asked Timothy.
"It's not really a sorority house, although part of it functions as one," said
Denise. "It's the Chadwick Estate. Carolyn Chadwick runs a finishing
school for
young ladies, most of whom are just out of college. But she also lets a
small
number of female college students like me board here - so long as we maintain a
high
grade point average. Ever since her husband passed away, Ms. Chadwick has
done all
kinds of philanthropic work. She even serves on the Board of Probation and
helps
rehabilitate prisoners who want to turn their lives around."
"That explains why this house is so enormous," said Timothy. "It seems to
go on
forever."
"Her estate is a wonderful place to live as a student," said Denise. "Ms.
Chadwick
is out of town right now, but she told us we could have a Halloween party
tonight,
if we wanted to."
Timothy thought to himself that Carolyn Chadwick probably had no idea of what
sort
of party the students would be having - and Stacy certainly had no idea either.
Otherwise, she would never have come here.
"Denise, do you think they'll be partying in the game room like they are
throughout
the rest of the house?" asked Timothy.
"Probably not," said Denise. "Most likely, they'll be playing games like
'Pin the
Tail on the Donkey' and 'Spin the Bottle' - or having races out on the lawn in
the
moonlight. You know - silly kid's games where the guys have to prove
themselves to
the girls. I'm not much in the mood for that sort of thing tonight.
I just want to
relax and have fun. Timmy, if you get bored, you can always come back to
me. We
could even just watch a movie on television in my room. Sometimes, those
games can
get pretty raucous."
Suddenly, Timothy realized that Denise and he had reached the basement corridor
of
the north wing of the house. Denise pointed down the hall with her
leather-gloved
finger and said, "She's probably in that game room down there." Then,
caressing his
face in the warmth of her leather-gloved hands, she said, "Try to stay out of
trouble, Timmy."
"Thanks, Denise," said Timothy. "Thanks for everything!"
Denise turned and walked back upstairs while Timothy walked down toward the end
of
the corridor. He wondered if Stacy would be upset that he had come
uninvited. But
he knew that he could always tell her that he was Denise's guest and that he was
just stopping in to say 'Hi'. As he approached the end of the corridor,
though, he
was startled to see a strawberry-blonde girl leading two males on chains from
one
room into another. The girl wore riding boots, blue jeans, a red pullover
and
short, tight black leather gloves. Timothy heard her say, "Well, I guess
you guys
are the last two contestants." But then, looking in Timothy's direction,
she said,
"Wait a sec! Do you want to be a contestant, too?"
Timothy said, "Well, I guess I can - if you need a third contestant." He
could
hardly believe that he had heard the words that came from his own mouth.
Then he
said, "I'm really looking for Stacy Rodgers. Is she around?"
"Sure," replied the strawberry blonde. "She's playing. Do you want
to be her
contestant?"
"If she wants me - sure," said Timothy.
"Stacy," called the strawberry blonde. "Come here. I've got a guy
for you!"
There are defining moments in everyone's life when the entire universe suddenly
seems turned upside-down. Such a moment occurred for Timothy when Stacy
stepped out into the hallway. For the briefest instant, Timothy did not
recognize her. Then, the shock of recognition struck Tim like lightning
and just about fried his brain.
Click here for Part Four