445 life at mellow manor pt3.

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445 life at mellow manor pt3.445 life at mellow manor pt3.His excitement rising he turned to face his own Mother, hung as Bessy, her arms held secure above her head, her smooth silk covered body his to strike, her expectant face fixed on his, knowing full-well she could expect no quarter from this eager young man, her son her own flesh and blood, who was now so sexually charged, so hyped up and so near and yet so far away in his fantasy world that he was as an automaton.She became aware he was speaking, asking her where first he was to strike her body, mark her, damage her perfect skin, cause her this hideous pain, she knew now she could not avoid! This was stupidity, but she knew she must have it if only to try the leathers caress… She glanced wildly at her cook hung obviously in lasting pain but with her eyes fixed on her mistress, and fellow victim. Then as if making up her mind, she looked back into those baby blue eyes and said crisply, “I am yours my young master, you must choose!” he nodded, back went his arm and her eyes closed as the leather began its awful decent… it wrapped itself round her slight frame, the thong wrapping itself round her midriff in a painful belt of white hot stinging that took but milli-seconds to send its message of fire to her confused brain. She cried out, the silk garment not protecting her in the very least. her left leg raising automatically as if to comfort the damaged skin at her waist. The leather fell away, a belt of stinging and painful burning left from behind from its ministrations. Sobbing now she placed the foot slowly back to the floor, then wet eyes sought him once more, and with a barely perceptible nod she gave the permission he so eagerly awaited. The arm pulled back his eyes and hers, fixed on one another, locked this time as the arm began to swing, and that leather gained momentum. She knew what to expect now, it struck her above her right hip, curling in a spiral round her rump to the left until the flailing tip hit her mons with a thump that even Beryl wrapped in her coat of painful stripes, flinched at. The body shuddered and the hips shook, that leg again lifting instinctively, the only thing available to react, her arms being still pinioned to the beam. Her body began strangely to react, as the yalova escort leg returned once more to the floor, there was pain, yes lots of pain, but her nipples were stiffening, and her sex had begun to dampen. Was this the reaction her cook sought, was this the oncoming orgasm that Betty had described over tea and cakes as different and so very massive? Thoughts tumbled through her busy brain, there was another stroke yet, just one, would it be enough to tip her over the edge into this intense orgasmic void? She looked up at him her eye contact having been momentarily lost. He had moved to the side, needing a different position the better to strike at her tender breasts, she knew the target was those jutting nipples he so loved and no power on earth would stop him now even if she so wished.. Without hesitation she nodded to him, not the timid nod of before, but a good solid ‘I`ve made up my mind’ style nod that had his arm drawing back instantly, with joy on his face as the leather rapidly and accurately swishing through the air. All eyes were fixed on those breasts, the thin silk creasing as the leather struck first the nearest then, almost instantly, the further, the tail of the belt curling under her armpit slapping silk covered skin in a loud splat of triumph. Both nipples and the tender areola taking the strike and absorbing the not inconsiderable power of the stroke in a cushioning effect but transmitting their feelings in a wave of jumbled messages triggered in Muriel an overwhelming feeling she just couldn’t resist, her head jumped back her eyes rolled and she screamed as she was overtaken by the most massive orgasm she could ever remember having. She slumped in her bindings and sobbed desperately for breath trying to regain control of her deceitful body. After a second the lad turned away but not before she saw his smile and the wet stain of ejaculation on his PJ trousers. A pained smile crept across her face, she had tasted the forbidden fruits of this taboo culture and she had made him ejaculate, she knew she was becoming addicted to its evil charms and she wondered where it would lead, her mind wandering until suddenly reality struck and she realised Barry was calling “s*******n” she had missed a lash and the leather had moved escort yalova its shocking attentions onto Bessy once more.By nineteen things had settled once again into a routine, thwack or slap, dependent on the target and its covering, Barry calling the strokes, now oblivious of the pain being inflicted to his wife and realising that she in a strange way was enjoying the sting of that leather and was away in another world. Even understanding her need now in a strange sort of way and his own manhood stiff from his newfound excitement. Her son, keen, manly, no longer a boy, fit and totally in control, loving the power, her own body stinging from his ministrations, tingling and keen to offer herself for his enjoyment, knowing it probably would not be the last time, and eager now be taken by any male that was man enough, and hoping that she would walk this path many times again. Another break, the lad giving Muriel a cursory glance to ensure she was still not in difficulties or that Barry was unhappy, They, were soon at it again, Bessy hanging more and more heavily on her wrists as the belt did its work. Twenty-five, another break, the same procedure, first his second victim then her would be lover then back to Bessy and await that nod, Crack, “twenty-six” the lash falling away, then rising once more and hitting home with a crash across the very red and welted backside. “Twenty seven”, Barry`s voice counting down to that last stroke they were all awaiting now, crack the last strike around her belly, “twenty eight” eagerness now in the voice, thwack, her bra shook with this last breast stroke, tears were falling , “the voice echoing, “Twenty nine,” they all awaited the next and ultimate stroke.Twenty nine times this brave or foolish woman had been struck, would she have the strength of character for that one last terrible stroke… as if reading their thoughts her legs straitened then slowly she turned herself around, Muriel could now see the big bouncy backside by then, a pattern of welts, purple and red criss-crossing the skin, tiny trickles of blood from the place those welts met, a pattern of painful marks. They all held their breaths when slowly the woman lifted her right leg, opening the way for that one last stroke, her wavering voice saying yalova escort bayan “please master… Now”The leather swung underarm this time, upwards and hard, cracking wetly as it struck her body from anus to mons, a scream emitting from her lips as the wet leather fell away and the woman convulsed with the severe pain emanating from her most treasured and womanly place. Her body was left to hang for a moment or two, while Monty releasing his mother first, then helped Barry with Bessy. She, found herself free for the first time in a long hour her body a warm and tingling field of pain. A restorative drink next, both ladies glad of the thoughtfully provided alcohol. Barry then aiding his wife from the thick underclothing that had protected her upper skin, those big floppy breasts drooping redly towards her naval, her huge flabby belly flopping over the still stinging sex hiding it from view, though they all knew it was dripping its secretions of lust.Red of face the cook stood then slowly turned to allow them all to see her shameful shape. Defiantly facing her mistress her breasts warm and pink from her beating, she stood awaiting a comment. Realising her cook and friend needed a boost Muriel exclaimed, “My god Bessy you are some woman, you put me to shame!” it was the perfect comment, Muriel raised her arms and Monty, instinctively, as if unveiling a statue lifted the green silk up and off. Naked now the two women stood appraising each-others undressed bodies, Bessy a mountain of meaty flab, and her employer, thin, shapely and well proportioned, her nipples with a single livid stripe across them, another round her middle and a third round her pert backside. Both women had nipples erect, breathing obviously hard from the excitement… wet legs from the lubrication their betraying bodies had produced, It was a poignant moment long and silent. Then the women as instructed, stepped forward and kissed, lips hot and passionate, sisters in adversity perhaps, their hands pulling feminine bodies together into an embrace, two ill matched bodies, crushing together regardless of pain or damage. Both knew instinctively that perhaps soon they would share love together properly with no men involved, but this was not the moment. The smiling men parted them, then checking the fire was safe, and dressing the women only in dressing gowns each man handed the other the hand of his partner for the night and wordlessly they went on their merry way`s, leaving the warm room and the flickering fire to quietly die.

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