My Daughter & I Raise the Stakes

by Cropsncuffs

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© Copyright 2007 - Cropsncuffs - Used by permission

Storycodes: FF/m; bond; stocks; bdsm; cons; X

(story continues from )

Part 5 - Raise the Stakes

My boyfriend has never felt quite so vulnerable & exposed. Parts of him are quite out of his reach, and despite the fact both his arms and legs are quite free of any restraint, he is powerless to protect his manhood from anything we might like to do to it.

It all started quite a few months ago when my adult daughter joined in our wild domme and sub games. A wild young redhead with a figure to die for and ideas even more inventive than my own (Which takes some doing, I can tell you) she has bought an even wilder edge to our perverted little games, and we have loved every minute of it. This time she has excelled even her usual self and rendered my (yes, still very much MY boyfriend. She has her own for more intimate pleasures than I am prepared to tolerate) boyfriend a gibbering wreck.

We arrived in the lounge rather unexpectedly, but as ever very much welcomed by him. As a special treat we had even acquired matching outfits. Gleaming black PVC catsuits that clung to every curve as if applied with a spray, their zips straining across our proud breasts. Whatever strange and scrawny figures might become fashionable on the catwalks of the world, nothing was ever going to replace womanly curves and rounded breasts on the eyes of my boyfriend as the ideal figure. And we both had these in excess. Sure, I might not be as young or slender in places as dear Emma, but together we still looked sufficiently similar to make him all but foam at the mouth and become putty in our hands. I know he likes to be the dominant partner every so often, but when both of us were present, he could only be the submissive one. Such was the suggestive power of us two matching redheads. And tonight we were going to have some fun.

We stalked over, and he was on his feet before we had crossed the room, his mouth open and his eyes wide with uncontrolled lust. And when our hands started to unbutton and unzip his clothes he was only too eager to help us out. Moments later he was quite naked, purring softly as our hands caressed his muscular body, his manhood already erect and ready for action. But for the moment we left well alone. There would be plenty of time for that later. In fact, we were depending on it.

Cuffs were slipped and fastened around unresisting wrists, and he was clearly enjoying the experience as the first gleaming drops began to appear at the very end of his manhood. Poor deluded soul, he actually thought he was going to get a swift release from his lust. Boy was he going to find out differently in a very short while.

He remained unresisting as a blindfold was slipped about his head and four hands guided him out of the room and down into the cellar. For a man with such a lecherous mind, he really did allow himself to go unprotesting into some very difficult situations. And this was going to be one of them. Sitting in the very centre of the swept floor was Emma’s latest creation (Heavens knows where she learned all these craft and constructions skills. She has never demonstrated them at home before). The cock board.

Inspired by the classic medieval pillory, with a double set of boards with runners up either side. In the centre of a fully three foot square board was a single, uncomfortably small hole. A thickly padded hole with a very definite purpose, one my boyfriend would probably have not welcomed had he been able to see what was coming.  But he couldn’t, and soon it would be way too late for him to object. Way, way too late.

As I pressed my boyfriend forwards Emma darted past us and lifted the top section of board and gestured me to bring him forwards. I moved alongside him and delicately lifted his straining manhood over the board so he felt no clue to his fate. He groaned as he felt my fingers about his tenderness, and for a moment I allowed my fingertips to curl about him and give him a very gentle squeeze. He moaned softly at my touch, and I saw a frown flicker across his brow as he felt something about the very base of his scrotum as I laid him ever so gently across the cock board’s lower semi-circular cut-out. Emma moved swiftly but silently to lower the top board, completing his encirclement. The padding took a firm grip on him, and in reflex he pulled back slightly and found his organ held fast. Before he could react Emma snapped a padlock to secure the board, and we both took a step back.

I would have paid to watch him trying to figure out what had happened to him. He could feel the wide board pressing against the front of his body both cool and smooth, yet he could not move away from it, his manhood somehow tethering him to it. Every emotion of a wide gamut crossed his face under the blindfold as his swiftly freed hands found the edges of the board, a board just wide enough to prevent him from reaching around it. Wide enough  to prevent him reaching round to his straining manhood.  Wide enough to mean that he couldn’t protect himself from us. And he knows only too well what a pair of devious bitches we can be. The last thing he wants to for us to have his manhood at our mercy. Well, actually, he quite enjoys it, but that’s not the way he thinks when he first realizes his predicament.

“You may take off the blindfold of you like” I said “Not that it will do you any good”

He reached up and slipped the leather off his face. For a moment he still didn’t understand what he could see with his own eyes. Then he peered over the top of the finely varnished board to see his apparently disembodied manhood protruding from the other side and he started to panic. Fingernails scratched at the boards as he tried to move them, finger dancing about the smoothed edges of the woodwork (Emma always was a perfectionist) as he tried to reach his exposed and defenceless manhood. But the two wood boards were well keyed together, and no matter how hard he rattled the padlock it stayed firm. And by the time he looked up we were both smiling. A pair of smiles her knew all too well. He was going to be there until we saw fit to let him go. And that might be some time.

“Shall we ?” asked Emma in her finest flirty voice. I nodded my agreement and we moved to the table. A draped cloth covered those toys we had left ready for our games, and we made up sure that we stood in such a way as to block his line of sight so he could not see what was coming. At least, not until he had had time to imagine things far worse than we could ever produce.

When we turned back to face him Emma was slapping her open palm with the twin tails of an evil tawse she has made her favourite punishment device. And she wields it with far more vigour than I had ever done. And my boyfriend has come to love it’s twin-tailed sting. Not that he often has any say in the matter mind you.

Me, I was keeping something out of sight behind my back. And it didn’t take him more than a few seconds to spot my hidden hand. His eyes never left that hand as Emma stalked round behind him and ran a firm palm over his muscular buttocks, buttocks already desperately tensed in trepidation of what he thought was coming. And he was right. Well, nearly right.

“Comfortable lover ?” I asked, standing directly in front of him, my warm body bare inches from his already straining manhood. I raised my hand and allowed a large red ballgag to dangle by it’s straps. He hates ballgags. Anything else he will wear happily, but ballgags drive him to distraction. Which is why I do so love to use them on him. There is something about watching his teeth working silently around that big red ball, his lips stretched tight, that just makes me moist.

I raised my arm and allowed the ball to roll back and forth across his tightly clenched lips. He can guess how this is going to end, but it’s a game we have to play.

The searing pain of Emma’s first tawse stroke makes him howl, and as his mouth opens I move faster than he ever expects. Before he can get his jaws back together my thumbs have got that ball behind his teeth and he knows he is lost. His head shakes wildly as he tries to dislodge it, but once he feel the straps start to tighten he knows it’s going to be a silent time for him. After all, we wouldn’t want him disturbing the neighbours, would we ?.

He glared impotently at me as I walked back to the table and picked up something else. I heard the twase crack and it’s attendant whimper as my back was turned.

“Face the front” snapped Emma “You’ll find out what mum has for you soon enough”

Once again I stood in front of him, my hand behind my back. Then, everso slowly I raised a worn leather glove. A very old, lightly padded riding glove. With slow and deliberately seductive movements I drew it onto my hand, confusion and just the right hint of fear registering in his wide eyes.
Holding his eyes with mine, I reached down and turned the gloves rough leather palm towards his manhood. The tenderest parts already standing well clear of their protective covering. I allowed them to meet each other with the barest fleeting touch. A touch so soft and gentle he whimpered so softly from behind the gag my heart almost melted.  I cupped my palm slightly to give the maximum contact area, and began to move that rough leather palm gently back and forth, up and down, touching every area of his manhood’s tender tip.  

He went wild at the teasing stimulation, pounding on the back of the boards, desperately trying to pull away from the evil, teasing softness of my touch. And as his head fell back and he started to surrender to the glove, Emma delivered a blow across his backside that broke his pre-orgasmic trance, his mind quite unable to cope with both the terrible stimulation of my touch to his front, and the painful punishment to his rear. He wanted both so much, yet dreaded them at the same time. Now he was ours. Mind, body and soul. And we were not going to let him go for a long time. And he was going to be a long time coming.

A very  long, long time.




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