Julie’s TriumphReturn to Femdom Stories
By Justin Benedict
Synopsis: Can Julie, a tease/denial Mistress, turn her macho military officer boyfriend into a chastity slave?
Relevant link at Bossy Girls: Search for "Tease and denial" Or "Femdom tease" at Hot Movies
Julie smiled at Everett over the candle lit dinner at Morton’s Steak House. The grizzled, former Foreign Service officer, now an export magnate, caught Julie’s eye and smiled right back. His brown, tanned hand traveled across the steak tartare and, reaching Julie’s small fingers with their French manicure, squeezed them gently. Julie really liked Everett, and thought he seemed malleable. Most men were fairly malleable in Julie’s hands; she was your traditional big-busted, full lipped type, with nearly white-blonde hair that hung in a sexy mane around her shoulders. The shipping millionaire was unlike many men that Julie had dated, in that Everett seemed to have a strong sense of self, and his interest in Julie was courtly, instead of begging and drooling.
Julie felt like she was being watched... she looked over at a nearby table, and there was Horace, gaping at her. Julie rolled her eyes at him. Yes, you pitiful dunce, I too, go to restaurants...I just don’t spend my leisure time as I did with you this afternoon, she thought contemptuously. Horace had not had a release in 81 days, and he was still wearing his belt, though four hours ago Julie had had it off, and was making Horace’s dick shake by tickling it with a greasy piece of dental floss, while he bounced helplessly against his handcuffs. And here Horace was, with his wife of fifteen years...obviously they hadn’t slept together in at least a year and a half, or even showered together, she would’ve wondered about the Iron Maiden Julie had locked to Horace’s crotch.
Julie dealt with two kinds of men--dates and potential relationship types, and then the clients she dealt with as a professional teasing and denial dominatrix. Julie, who worked for her friend Keri’s tease denial, and key holder service provided a valuable commodity to a variety of men in the city, who would come and visit Julie at different times. Some of the men were married, or just wanted part-time teasing. These were the belt-less...they wore no chastity belts or devices.
Aaron was one of these. Aaron had a sweet girlfriend, and a lively life, but once a week, he’d come see Julie, giving her $500, and she’d tie him naked to a table, and play with his dick for several hours, moving her long, white tipped nails up and down Aaron’s suffering shaft, before finally allowing him to jerk off. Then Aaron would leave, refreshed, and go back to his girlfriend until his peculiar desires brought him back the following week. Aaron did it for kicks, she thought, but liked Cumming too much, though he might graduate to wanting long term chastity. That did happen sometimes...
Horace was staring at her...trying to make his eyes moisture-ish. Julie was irritated as all hell. What was he staring at? Sure, she had her 40DD’s stuffed into this little black strapless thing, but it was no more revealing than the corset she’d been wearing with him this afternoon. Horace was begging with his eyes for her to look at him. Horace had made the mistake of telling Julie that he wanted to have six months of teasing and chastity...he couldn’t handle it, though. 81 days and he was a nervous wreck...but Julie would stick to her guns...Horace was a dramatic example of one of Julie’s "belted" clients...the main recipients of her key holder service..she held the keys to their belts...A less intense version of a belted client than Horace, was Steven.
Steve was more of a typical "belted" client, one who came at least once every two months. Julie kept Steve in a metal chastity sheath at all times, except when it was his teasing time. All week long, Steve would go through his work, his other activities, with his penis thrusting against the cruel metal sheath...and then once a week he’d come see Julie, and the same ritual of stripping, binding and teasing would go on, but it was different, because Steve was far more desperate than Aaron was. The belt prohibited him from pursuing a separate relationship from Julie, who he paid $500 a visit, just for the chance to get the belt off, and have her play with his poor dick a bit. Steve not only didn’t come during the week, but often didn’t cum after the session was done...Julie allowed Steve to cum about once every six weeks, and usually that was after he’d visited her six times, and she’d pocketed three grand.
What was interesting was that Julie’s suitors, boyfriend, and 2 ex-husbands had always been the rough-and-tumble guys--ex-cons, day laborers, addicts and the like. When Fernando came over, for instance, there’d be no chastity teasing for him--Julie would have all of her holes hit, Frank would demand two blowjobs, probably, and then he’d eat her cooking, borrow ten from her and take another fifty from her purse and bail off, his "BORN TO LOSE" tattoo a bluish-gray caboose on his back walking out. Julie loved Fernando, she’d rake his back as he pumped in her...but he wasn’t husband material...Julie preferred hell-raising on a weekend basis, thank you...and neither were Steve or Aaron the pitiful slave-boys potential marriage material...too much of them would just be irritating.
Was there a happy medium between adoring slaves and insane redneck boys? It was a puzzle. What Julie liked about Everett was although he seemed quite enamored of her, he wasn’t a drooler...he was polite and courtly. A regular weightlifter with 10 years in the military, Everett was at least as masculine as any man she’d ever met. In Julie’s "straight" job as a fundraiser, Ev was the perfect escort to her various events, he danced like a charm...and took her to wonderful get togethers at the Officer’s Club.
But-at fifty-two to Julie’s thirty-three, Ev didn’t really have the charge that Julie needed, though Ev was a fascinating companion, he pampered Julie constantly, and bought her gifts. She knew there was an engagement ring in the picture. But in their moments of passion...when Everett’s penis entered Julie--it his penis felt like a foreign object, and not a particularly welcome one...he just didn’t "ring her chimes". But he was too precious to let get away.
Julie was considering-- could she transform Everett into a slave? She thought Everett might be a great live in "Client" Julie could still receive all the pampering, the presents, etc. and give Everett valuable lessons in self-control, and bestow upon him the favors that many, many men had paid dearly for. Could she do it?
She is a damn fine woman, Everett thought, as he knelt naked in front of Julie. I don’t understand this submission business, but Julie is so sweet and charming. What the hell, if she wants me to kneel here for a bit, in the buff, while she stands there in her little black cocktail dress...ooh. Everett looked down, noticing that his member was getting quite stiff. That doesn’t happen much anymore, he thought. The last time Everett had slept with Julie in the traditional way, she’d had to twiddle him a bit so he didn’t lose his erection completely...Mid life does that to a man. But look how hard Little Johnny is now!
"So, Everett, you’re enjoying this?" Julie was looking down at Everett’s stiffening penis. Everett was a bit embarrassed that she was still completely dressed tonight--stockings, heels, all of it--while he was naked as a jaybird. But God, she’s a beautiful woman! Look at that mane of blond hair! "Everett, why don’t you come over here and sit on this kitchen stool for me?"
Everett tried to stand up, but Julie gently pushed him back down, and encouraged him to crawl to the stool and then climb up it. "Julie, honey, why not the LaZ-Boy, or the couch? This is not comfortable." Suddenly Everett was tied to the stool...his hands were roped together, and the rope was knotted to one of the stool legs, and then his feet were tied to the others. There was no back to the stool, so he had to sit up straight. "Honey, don’t worry about the other furniture." Julie was leaning over and whispering in Ev’s ear while her nails scratched the inside of his bare thigh. "You’re a submissive tonight and you don’t have to think about all that stuff...don’t you get sick of worrying about everything? Mommy’s lookin’ after it for you." Julie gently took Everett’s penis in her palm, and squeezed her fingers around it.
Everett had an excellent view into Julie’s cleavage. it was almost sexier bunched in that little black dress than when she was nude! He was still terribly embarrassed by this predicament, being naked and tied to a kitchen stool, it reminded him of the prisoners he had interrogated in Laos, years ago. Julie’s thumb and forefinger encircled Ev’s dick while her palm rested on the little area of the stool still exposed between Everett’s perspiring legs. As she whispered in his ear, Everett could smell her perfume, Chanel, he thought." The regular furniture is for the grown-ups, sweetie." Julie leaned into Everett’s neck, subtly pulling her dress down so the tops of her breasts bunched out of the cocktail dress into Everett’s face. "That’s for Mommy to entertain her company. Little boys have a nursery...and they eat in the kitchen." Notwithstanding that "Mommy" was 20 years his junior, Everett thought of his governess, Miss Truncheon, years ago.
Miss Truncheon had been damned strict at times--one slip in his lessons, or a tantrum, and she’d have him across her knee with the pants to his sailor suit down, whacking away with the heavy wooden spoon she kept in the purse. Several times she’d spanked him like this when they were at the playground, in front of the other mothers and children...and then Ev would be required to stand in the corner, his pants down, weeping. If he acted up too much, sometimes Miss Truncheon would give him an enema...oh, that was horrific...but it made him a better man. Even when Ev was a big boy of twelve or fourteen, Miss Truncheon supervised his television time, and made him go to bed at seven-thirty each night. Even after Everett became a junior varsity quarterback, he couldn’t celebrate the games he won with the fellows at a bowling alley, and of course parties were verboten. In bed, seven-thirty sharp.
When Everett was asked out by Cheryl Willis, the head cheerleader, to go to the movies, Miss Truncheon had accompanied them, and the next time Ev had wanted to go with her, Miss Truncheon had told him he wasn’t ready for dating. Everett had thrown a fit, and Miss Truncheon had stripped Ev, whipping him with a soaking hickory branch, and made Everett parade up and down his driveway in a frilly white dress and patent leather shoes. Cheryl had driven by with a group of girls that afternoon—Miss Truncheon called her, Everett suspected, but that couldn’t be so—and after she’d seen Ev in his pretty outfit, there were no more requests for dates, Everett was the laughing stock of Aaron Burr Junior High…he’d hated Miss Truncheon, but only for a brief period…she allowed no pouting or anger.
Miss Truncheon had also had a very strict policy towards "self-abuse" and after she’d caught Everett masturbating, she’d made him stand in the corner with a pink ribbon tied to this tip of his penis, which just poked out of a pair of adult diapers. Miss Truncheon had then invited Cheryl and Cheryl’s best friend Lana to come over and help with some ironing. "Just ignore that bad boy, girls…" Miss Truncheon said, as the girls stared at the captain of the football and wrestling teams at Burr Jr. High. "He can’t stop wiggling his wee-wee…so I’m making him more aware of his shame." After this experience, Everett resigned sports and ran home every day at three sharp, to avoid the taunts of the story, which had just gotten around. "I am so glad you stopped all that nonsense, Everett…now we can work on Latin lessons together." And it’s true, Everett’s grades went up sharply after this.
And then Miss Truncheon was very comforting, in her way. She’d prepare his bath, and bathe Everett, up until he went off to military school at thirteen...he always had dinner with her in the kitchen...Everett’s mother was dead and his father away most of the time, and until he’d gone off to school at fifteen, Miss Truncheon had been it...when he’d come home that first vacation, and she was gone, off to look after a new charge, there was a hole in Everett’s soul. "You’re a big boy now." his father had said, ruffling his hair. "Be tough. No one respects a sissy." Everett had done it--highest ranked cadet at West Point, medals for valor in Vietnam, a distinguished Foreign Service career, and now of course he was a ruthless business man...but it was tiring, being in charge all the damn time. Julie’s blond hair stroked Everett’s cheek, and he in took breath. His cock hardened to an intensity he’d never felt in her soft fingertips. Everett closed his eyes, and then opened them suddenly, there was intense pain on his chest. In astonishment, he found clothespins on his nipples.
Julie carefully pushed her spike heel into the tip of Everett’s dick...not too painful, but somewhat. Everett was lying on his side on the kitchen floor, his dick sticking straight out in front of him, and Julie was giving it a poke or two...Everett had no discipline! You’d think he did, with all that training. It had been six months since Julie had tied Ev to the kitchen stool and teased his cock and tortured his nipples with clothespins. After a bit of this, she had untied Everett and taken off her clothes, and Everett, still sexually frustrated, had licked Julie to two orgasms, before she’d allowed him to stick his dick in her again. This nightly cunnilingus before sex had continued for a few weeks. Julie had begun demanding longer and longer lapping by Everett.
First there had been the "two orgasm rule" Everett would not be allowed to make love to Julie until he’d licked her to two orgasms. She had convinced Everett that she couldn’t give him oral sex, because blowjobs were what whores gave, and Julie was a lady. (It was hard not to laugh telling him this, as she’d blown Fernando and his friends Carlos and Zeke the night before. "But I do like it when you lick me down there." she’d said to Everett demurely. "I can’t make love to you, Everett, unless I’m very excited, and had at least two orgasms."
When Everett couldn’t give her the second orgasm, he dressed and bowed and went home some nights, and others Julie would tie him spread eagled to the bed and play her nails across his throbbing erection as she whispered sweet recriminations in his ear..."Oh Everett, honey...don’t you wish you could’ve worked harder down there? You could’ve squirted right in me...it would’ve been so nice...but now I’ll just have to make you think." This spurred Everett to ’work harder’ and eventually Julie increased the rule to a preliminary massage and three orgasms before Everett was allowed to mount, and after that four or five. Often Everett could barely move his jaw the next day, but he was game to try, and he knew if he didn’t get through the five orgasms, that Julie would have to tie him up and make Ev wish he’d worked harder. In a sense, Everett enjoyed this, it was a challenge to get his reward...
Then one night, Julie had gotten her five orgasms, but told Everett that he would have to masturbate, as she was tired. Everett looked disappointed, but Julie had teased him a bit with her hand, and finally he’d plopped down on the floor on his knees and jerked off into a small bowl near the table, as to not stain Miss Julie’s bedroom carpet. As Everett became more and more proficient in giving head, Julie told him that she was going to make screwing her more of a treat, and Everett began jerking off every other night that he satisfied Julie...and then every five nights.
This meant that he had to take Julie to five consecutive dinners, and then the massage and the hours of licking, before he got his lay...Everett wanted to see Julie more and more often, naturally, but she refused to see him more than three times a week. "A lady has to rest, you know." So this meant that Everett was getting to screw about once a fortnight, and jerk off four times in between. Soon Julie and Everett had a full routine--Everett would take Julie to dinner and a play, or a movie, and take her out for ice cream, and more often than once in a while, they’d wander over to Tiffany’s or some nice clothing store, and he’d get her little gifts.
Once home, Julie would remain dressed, and Everett would be tied to the bed, and Julie would stroke Everett’s cock for about an hour, scraping her long nails up and and around his shaft until Everett was hissing through his teeth. Unlike her other submissives, Everett was too stoic to whine and cry over his desperation to cum...he’d been torture in Vietnam, and refused to give secrets...but it was a challenge... Julie would go on til Ev was humping her hand, before untying him and getting her massage, and hours of oral sex...then Julie would tie Everett again, and tease him a bit more, before allowing him to jerk off into a bowl. Sex was on special occasions like Valentine’s Day,and perhaps Everett’s birthday.
Then one night, when it was about time for Everett to get his masturbation time, Julie looked at him. There was no excuse not to let Everett jerk off, he’d taken her to Morton’s, then dancing, they’d gone on a helicopter ride that weekend…but she didn’t feel he needed relief. Even if he had treated Julie to a spectacular massage and an intense six orgasms…how would she breach it? "Everett, I want to test your strength…why don’t you not jerk off tonight…? Show me, for once, that you can just give ME a great night…do you think you’re up to it?" There had been few tests, academic, athletic or military, that Everett had not been able to pass, and he’d manfully dropped his cock, and lay down behind Julie’s beautiful naked body to sleep. She had immediately spooned him, her full buttocks rubbing sensually against his near bursting penis, but they’d finally gone peacefully to sleep. Julie had awakened Everett in the morning, by twiddling his cock with a fingernail, but when he’d reached down to grab it, she’d slapped his face, hard, and said "Did I give you permission, you bad boy?"
After this, Everett had had to do lots of different things in order to impress Julie…and then she would allow him to jerk off…or she’d play her toes around his cock til he spurted, and then cleaned her foot off…or once in a blue moon, Everett would get laid. Julie instructed Everett…she let him screw her when he’d given her a platinum card on his account, spent the day helping her move, and taken her skiing. Supervised masturbation was a privilege for things like watching Everett do fifty jumping jacks AFTER he’d massaged and licked Julie to her five orgasms. Sometimes she’d ask him to wash her car, or jerk off in front of an open window. One day she’d said to Everett, without smiling. "Tonight if you want to squirt that wee-wee of yours, you’ll do it in front of my boyfriend." And Everett had knelt in front of the type of kid he’d always despised, a long haired punk in baggy pants with a pierced lip…the kid sat next to Julie, who was stunning as always in her denim jumper. Naked, Everett had rubbed his fingers up and down his penis…now and then, the boyfriend, Slim, would tell him "slow down, old man, do you have to cum this minute" and then Julie would order Ev to put his hands behind his back and wait til she let him jerk it again…but it had been a wonderfully humiliating and satisfying orgasm when Everett had finally gotten release.
At some point, though, Julie noticed that sometimes Everett was not as excited as others...when she was teasing him. It turned out that Everett had been masturbating at home. This had to stop. Julie made Everett promise that he could only cum with her permission. This made her giggle, having the guy promise Julie this. A few months before, he’d been footloose and fancy free. Everett was not a freak like some of the guys who paid Julie; he’d been quite the cocksman around town with a variety of cuties, younger and often prettier than Julie herself...and now he was giving Julie gifts of jewels and money, seeing Julie exclusively...and promising not to even jerk off when he was away from her...and of course Julie had lots of boyfriends! But now and then Everett gave in to his baser desires as he did tongiht, when Julie realized he’d jerked off once again...she had Ev bound, with his penis under her heel, and she was confronting him.
"What’s the deal, Everett?" Julie pushed her spike heel deeper into Everett’s glans. "Why can’t you control yourself.?" It was funny, Julie thought, stifling a giggle…when she met Everett, he was the man about town, squiring around models ten to fifteen years younger than she was…no one in the world would tell him what to do…and now she had him completely faithful, giving her all sorts of dinner and gifts…he hadn’t fucked her in five weeks, and hadn’t cum in two! And here he was naked, on his side, with her heel poked into the tip of his cock. Julie stamped it a few times, treating the cock as if it were a lit cigarette she was trying to stamp out. In spite of Everett having jerked off in her bathroom that afternoon—she’d found the sticky Kleenex, and also in spite of the fact that the heel was quite painful…Everett’s cock was bulging, stiff, and slick with pre-ejaculate. "Everett, I’m disappointed in you. You’ve been a military school boy, an Eagle Scout, a colonel in the Army…you can’t keep your word?"
Everett spoke slowly, his head lying on the linoleum of the kitchen floor. He spoke evenly as if he was unaware that a beautiful blond woman in a white angora sweater and leather miniskirt was dancing up and down on his dick with her heel. "Miss Julie…I try..but it’s been ten days since I had an orgasm, ma’am…You tease me constantly, rubbing up and down on my penis—don’t think I don’t enjoy it, but it’s so pressurizing…and then when we’re not together, you call me constantly at work and at home, telling me all these…THINGS." Ev was too well bred to go into detail. Julie giggled again, and pushed her heel deeper into Everett’s glans. It was true, Julie was constantly calling Everett on the phone and telling him about how she’d shaved her pussy the night before…and how one or two of her boyfriends had come over and screwed her…and she’d go on and on about the blowjobs she’d given them…Everett had to understand she saw other people, and this was her way of being honest with him. Of course she could hear the haggard breathing on the other side of the line, and she’d go on about her hard nipples, and how she was fingering them right now…Ev was a a handsome, muscular bronzed man, with power…he was a black belt, and had been a trained boxer…but right now he looked as if he were a calf about to be slain.
"Everett, I’m so disappointed in you, honey. You have all these Silver Stars and Purple Hearts from being tortured in Vietnam and not releasing any information…and you can’t take a…" Julie’s voice went into little-girl mode "a little cutie-pie telling you about her little clitty." Everett’s cock got harder under the heel. "Don’t’ you want to know how I feel? Do you have to jerk yourself like a little pervert? When I tell you about how wet I get, and how Sam and Jose fuck me hard…"
Everett closed his eyes and panted some more. Suddenly Julie put all her weight on the heel poking into Everett’s glans and he screamed, and the penis went soft. "Everett" Julie said regretfully…"I think it’s time we talked about stronger measures to keep you pure…have you ever heard of a chastity belt?"
END OF PART ONE
JULIE’S TRIUMPH PART TWO
Everett opened the closet door very softly, and crawled out on his hands and knees towards the bedroom door. He looked quite unlikely in this pose, a muscled aristocratic looking fellow with a military Number One crewcut crawling on the floor in a pair of diapers. Everett had commanded cadet troops at Pershing Military Academy as a sixteen year old, then at West Point, before spending twenty-five years as a military officer and consultant, and now president of his own company, a firm known for rapacious corporate takeovers and tough deals…Ev was feared in the military and business communities.
After Everett got through the door without waking the occupants of the bed, he got up, and went to the bathroom before he remembered that the door was locked, as was the lock on his diaper. Wincing, Everett let loose, crapping in his pants. He hoped Julie, his lovely wife of one year, would be kind enough to change his nappies before eleven o’clock. The last rash Ev had suffered had been a nasty one. Everett went into the kitchen and began preparing coffee and rolls for Julie and Rajul, the man she’d brought home from the club the night before.
Ev grunted. Although Everett would do anything his lovely wife commanded, he had been astonished at how quickly This Negro fellow—no, black—no they’re called African Americans now, of course. The man’s black. Everett shook his head. He just couldn’t believe how quickly this black man had adjusted to being Everett’s master for the evening. Everett was certainly used to the drill. Julie would bring some lowlife in disgusting clubbing clothes and long hair back to the house, and Everett would come out, naked except for his plastic banana shaped chastity tube, which fit neatly over his penis, with a metal strap around the back of Ev’s testicles.
Then Julie would introduce the astonished fellow to Everett, and promise untold antics in bed, if the guy would help her dominate her slave for an hour or two. Everett weighed two hundred and forty pounds, every inch of it muscle, and perhaps was a bit frightening looking…several of these fellows had regretfully declined, with one last wistful glimpse at Julie’s breasts, before leaving…Ev liked it when this happened, because then it was he and Julie for the evening. She would then have a little session with Everett herself, going over the house to see how much cleaning he’d done while she was dancing with her friends at the Raindrop or the Sombrero club, and discipline Everett accordingly, usually fifty with the hairbrush on Everett’s bare bottom, his chastity tube pressing into her soft thighs, and then another thirty-five with a razor strop as Everett lay over the armrest of the couch, followed by twenty with the bamboo cane Ev had brought back from Thailand.
Julie often complimented Everett on not making any sound, no matter how vicious the whipping was or how many frighteningly reddish purple welts jumped up on Everett’s bottom cheeks and lower thighs. After this, Julie would take Everett to her bed, after cleaning off his corporal punishment wounds of course…these welts and blisters could bleed a bit, and tie him spread eagled, his arms and legs splayed across the bed, in four point restraints against the bed posts. Then Julie would undo a few buttons on her blouse, so Everett could view a bit of cleavage, or if she was in an especially good mood, she’d strip to bra and panties…Everett paid Julie’s account at Victoria’s Secret, but usually he didn’t get to see her underwear as often as her boyfriends did, and almost never did Everett see Julie completely naked. When Ev performed oral sex on Julie, or assisted her in the bath, Julie always wore her bra or a bikini top, as she said Everett couldn’t "handle" too much of a good thing. This was tough for Everett, but he treated his wife like a lady…and would do whatever she liked out of respect.
Then Julie, either with unbuttoned blouse or lacy bra and panties, would unlock Everett’s plastic chastity tube, and set it aside, and begin playing with Everett’s penis and testicles, taking her time, of course. First was the "dry massage" where Julie would just rub her hands all over Ev’s genitals, very lightly. Everett liked watching Julie’s long nails playing along his stiffening shaft, scraping lightly around the glans before tiptoeing back down to the scrotum. Julie’s hands were incredibly soft and this was so comforting to Everett, in spite of his sexual frustration…she never did housework, he looked after that department, and used special creams to keep her hands looking like a sixteen year olds.
After a half hour of the dry massage, Julie would squirt some lubricant on her palms, and begin the "wet tease" This went on for an hour or two, and was less complex than the dry…Julie would grip Everett’s cock at the base and rub up and down it, while massaging even more oil into his engorged testicles (As Everett did not cum often, his balls were usually quite full of unused backed-up semen.) This would go on for an hour or so, Everett bucking and thrusting against Julie’s energetic fingers, his tongue in his teeth and his eyes closed, except of course when he was staring at bouncing breasts in the tight-fitting brassiere. Julie’s general motion was ten quick rubs with her circled fingers, and then ten very slow pulls up and down Everett’s purple-thrusting cock.
It was Everett’s responsibility, to keep from cumming during these sessions…Everett had very occasional masturbation times when he was allowed to jerk himself into a shot glass and drink up the spooge (and it was fifty with the strap if the sperm missed the glass and hit the carpet) But Everett must never, never finish in Julie’s hand. He was in diapers this morning for just that offense…Ev had come involuntarily in Julie’s hand during a six-hour tease last Wednesday, and had earned himself a fortnight in the diaper, whenever of course, he wasn’t at work….Generally Everett could hold back his release…Julie would go through the "wet tease" for quite some time…
Finally Julie would stop, Everett was a stoic fellow, but quite often he would entreat her to continue just a little longer "even if I can’t have a release, ma’am…" Julie would then go to the kitchen, and get an ice cube, and rub Everett’s penis down—and what a sensation it was against the cold lubricant!—until it was small again. And then Julie would replace the plastic tube, after she’d washed it out a bit. After this, Julie would strip to just her bra, and Everett, untied but locked up again, would give Julie a long, comforting massage, and then an hour or so of cunnilingus. And then Everett, if he’d brought his Mistress to the required five orgasms, would be allowed to climb into the bed, and Julie would fall asleep, a kitten in his strong arms. Otherwise, he slept in the closet. Everett felt wonderful during these nights together—Julie snuggling against his broad chest—he felt she really loved him, though her loyalty disintegrated when there was any other man in the picture.
This was Saturday night for them when Julie came home alone…but more often then not, Julie would bring home a guy…and then Everett would "get it" Julie would ask the guy to give Everett a few with the cane or the strop, promising the guy a blowjob if he could make Everett cry…no one had gotten a blowjob yet, Ev thought with pride. He had learned to take pain in silence from his governess, Miss Truncheon, forty years before.
After this, Julie would remove Ev’s plastic tube, and cuff his hands behind his back, give herself and the guy crops, and set up clothespins along the ridges of Everett’s cock, balls, stomach and nipples and she and the young man (they were all young, averaging about twenty-five) would take turns knocking the painful wooden clamps off Ev as he stood at attention with his legs apart, to give the crop-swingers good aim.
It hurt Everett so much to see these slime balls with Julie, and he just couldn’t understand why they couldn’t have every Saturday night together, just the two of them. Usually, it took every ounce of self-control to keep from kicking the hell out of these guys…After the clothespin torture, Julie would often cuff Everett to an eye hook in their basement dungeon that had been installed in Everett’s house after their marriage three years before. Everett found it horribly humiliating when Julie and whoever her Saturday night number was would take turns whipping his bare ass and thighs with belts and switches as he hung helplessly from the ceiling. Everett would be then taken down and put in the bedroom closet to enjoy the spectacle of his wife screwing a club boy…
This morning, Everett carried the breakfast tray, laden with cut melon, omelets, croissants, coffee and orange juice, into the bedroom, where he set it on a tray. Rajul was lying with his long black arm across Julie’s chest, and both were snoring. Everett was disgusted. If he’d had Rajul in his troops during the Vietnam or Desert Storm, this bum would have spent most of his duty scrubbing latrines. What an attitude…and drugs. The fellow actually smoked marijuana with Everett’s precious Julie…his beautiful wife. But now Everett had his duty to do, and he’d better do it damn well. Everett shook Julie awake gently.
"Miss Julie?" Ev whispered. "It’s ten o’clock." Julie’s lovely cat-like green eyes opened, fluttering lashes, and she smiled, reaching up to touch Everett’s cheek. "Good morning, darling…how was it in the closet last night?" Julie smiled and stretched, but was careful not to wake Rajul just yet. "It was fine, ma’am…" Ev said, although his back and shoulders ached from sleeping on the wardrobe floor. "I hope you and…" Julie smiled "Master Rajul?" she said lightly. Everett winced. "Master Rajul, yes, I hope you and Master Rajul slept well last night…if you’re ready, I’d like to give you your morning tribute." Julie nodded, smiling sleepily, and Everett crawled onto the bed and under the covers, moving his head between Julie’s legs. "Wha-whassup?" Rajul began stirring. "Don’t worry, Rajul. Diaper-boy is just going to give me my morning tribute."
Everett began licking between Julie’s legs. At first it was disgusting—he had to clean all of Rajul’s blasted semen out of her clitoris, cleaning it thoroughly with his tongue. It had been hard the first time Ev had had to swallow another man’s semen from his wife’s vagina, but he was learning the trick fairly well. After Ev had cleaned out the semen from Julie’s pussy, which he’d trimmed the previous evening, just before she went to the Purple Sombrero, and then Everett pushed his head right in deeper, and licked her to her three morning orgasms before she shoved his head back. "That’s good, sweetheart." Julie smiled. "Now you can go clean up the kitchen while Raj and I have our tray here…" Rajul looked at Everett as Ev pulled his grizzled head out from under the covers. "Why not me?" Rajul looked at Julie, annoyed. "Why not you what, Rajul?"Julie asked. "Why he don’t give me a tri-bute, Julie? Mah dick could use a lickin, couldn’t it? You said I was his Master."
Everett was revolted. Certainly Julie would throw this imbecile out now…after all that had gone on last night, and this spear chucker wanted homosexual relations? Ev waited for Julie to set Rajul straight. But Julie looked at Rajul, and then at Everett, and smiled. "Why not? It’s about time for your first blowjob, Ev…we’ve taken you through everything else, haven’t we?"
"N-no, I can’t, Miss Julie." Everett was trembling. He’d put up with so much in the last five years. After Julie had introduced Ev to his new role, she’d stopped letting him have sex with her entirely, after they’d consummated their marriage on her wedding night. Ev was allowed to have an orgasm about once every six to eight weeks, with his hand, on his knees…and he accepted this, and his roster of housework, and the corporal punishment…he had to admit he liked the teasing and denial, and enjoyed having pressure taken off him after a day of hostile takeovers and firing bad salesmen. Being Julie’s submissive had been good for the grizzled old ex-colonel. But this…this was disgusting. Everett couldn’t suck a penis, much less a black man’s penis. No. It just wouldn’t work out. "I’m sorry, Miss Julie, it’s just too much." Ev was about to climb off the bed, when Julie’s soft hand touched his arm.
"Everett?" Julie smiled coquettishly. "Darling, Mommy would never make you do something she didn’t think you were up to…" Everett shook his head vigorously. "It’s not that I’m not up to it, ma’am. I just…it’s disgusting." Rajul looked at Ev in a rage, but he stayed where he was. Rajul weighed about one hundred thirty-five pounds, and was rather spindly from a diet of drugs, potato salad and 40-ouncers of King Cobra Malt. He was still a bit nervous about having given this frightening bodybuilder-Army guy a whipping the night before…and he certainly wasn’t going to push this suggestion. Julie kept smiling at Everett. "Honey…after all I do for you…I know you want to please Miss Julie, don’t you?" Everett’s eyes watered. "And I know" Julie said pleasantly, "That you don’t want to wear that wet, shitty diaper all day, do you sweetheart?"
Everett was not sure how it happened, but within five minutes, he was kneeling between Rajul’s legs, as Raj sat on the edge of the bed. Rajul had gained courage now, though he wondered what it was with these crazy white men. If a bitch told him to do that to another brother, Raj would shoot both of them into next week. Rajul laced his fingers on the back of Everett’s head, and began pushing Ev’s head closer, as Ev’s mouth opened wider, and Rajul’s cock sank deep in Ev’s mouth. Julie, ever helpful, leaned over the bed in her adorable sky blue teddy and gave casual instruction. "That’s right, Everett. Open wide. WIDE. There you go, now—no, don’t cough, that’s not a turn on for Rajul. Try to lick the underside of his cock with your tongue, I remember that worked well during my first blowjob back in tenth grade. I remember Sally Russell demonstrated with a banana…take it in, Everett, lick the bottom…you’re doing so well!"
Everett’s eyes watered more, and sweat poured down his brow, as Rajul jammed his cock in and out of Everett’s mouth. Looking up, he could see Julie’s amused face peering over the side of the bed. Everett tried to concentrate—"OW!" Rajul pulled his cock out of Everett’s mouth. "What’s wrong, honey?" Julie asked Raj sympathetically. "That motherfucker bit me!" Rajul screamed. Julie looked over at Everett, who was cowering and apologizing "It was an accident…" Julie shook her head and smiled. "Sweetheart, I think you need more training."
It was such a struggle for Everett to maintain his chastity. This, of course is why he wore the stifling, banana shaped tube. Yet, the reason his orgasms were so far apart was partially because of Ev’s pride. Julie had first put the chastity tube on Everett five years before, when she became concerned that he was masturbating between their times together. This was understandable, considering that Julie only let Ev screw her every once in a while, and occasionally let him masturbate after an evening of wining, dining, massaging and orally servicing her. Everett thought masturbation a disgusting habit, Miss Truncheon his governess had always said so…and punished him rightly for it.
And Ev had never really needed to jerk himself off. He’d never been short of dates…even in the all-male bastions of military school and West Point, there’d always been a housemaid or two. Julie was sending a double message, with teasing Everett beyond belief during their dates, and then sending him home frustrated…calling Ev at work to talk dirty to him…and then demanding he stay pure. How could he? Thinking of her gorgeous cleavage, 40 DD breasts with nipples poking through near transparent pink sweaters, her long legs emerging from tight skirts…and Julie usually wore seamed stockings or sometimes fishnets, and mile-high spike heels—she knew Everett loved that.
Of course it was hell trying to stay celibate after an evening of necking with Julie. Everett got quite horny having her play with his crotch or even suffering being tied down by Julie and stroked for hours. Julie’s nails would bring Everett’s cock head to new and different colors…once she had painted her nails a magenta color, and observed that Everett’s glans had changed to the same color! When Everett got too excited, often Julie would snap a nail against his glans…and the nails never broke because they weren’t press-ons, they were real. After several hours of long, tormenting strokes, Julie would untie Everett and ask him to dress and leave…and how could he help jerking off after that—in the car, back at home, in his private lavatory at work…thinking of that incredible girl!
So Julie had finally put Ev in a chastity device—nothing else had worked. She’d tried whipping his penis with a coat hanger, cuffing Ev’s genitals to a blistering space heater, and pushing his flaccid ball sac between a door and its hinges, and opening and shutting the door rapidly. Julie had cuffed Ev to the ceiling eye hook and tied a bucket to his cock and balls, filling it now and then with water until it nearly pulled his genitals to the ground… She’d put Ben-Gay and hot peppers on a Q-tip and stuck it in the little snake eye of the glans, thrown darts at Ev’s wee-wee, and forced Ev to sit for several hours in an ice-cube filled bathtub.
But finally the tube was placed on Everett’s dick, and Julie kept the key to the little lock. When Everett had to go abroad, or anywhere where he’d be exposed to a metal detector, Julie would replace the tiny padlock binding his sheath with a plastic garbage bag tie thing…if she found it snapped open when Ev came back, he was in for more cock and ball torture. And this plan worked. Everett had not had an unauthorized orgasm after that. Usually once a week or so, after four or five nights of teasing (Julie had moved in Everett’s place by now) Julie would unlock Everett’s tube and let him release himself into a dish…the days of sex were over between them, it seemed, and with all Ev had gone through with the groin torture, he was appreciative of the occasional jerk-off.
It was certainly difficult, being tied and teased nearly all the time, being teased in front of the television set…Ev would be cuffed naked on the couch as Julie stroked his penis mercilessly during the shows…then she would quiz Ev on the plots, and if he couldn’t answer correctly, over her knee he went! Everett had never been good at memorizations…he’d had trouble with Miss Truncheon, his governess over this, and her urgings were similar to Julie’s…While most of the younger kids in the neighborhood would watch "Bonanza" or "I Love Lucy" in the evenings, and older boys were driving around with their girls in convertibles, Miss Truncheon had believed that Everett was destined for higher things. Everett spent much of his leisure time from age ten on, memorizing the Old Testament, which Miss Truncheon believed was so important for a young man’s formation. But Ev’s governess, like his lovely wife later on, had little patience for a bad memory. Every Friday night, Everett would recite the verses that he’d learned throughout the week, when not studying or participating in school athletics…and unlike most teenage boys, Everett feared and loathed Friday nights.
" How hath the Lord covered the daughter of Zion with a cloud in his anger," recited Everett one night in his fourteenth year, as Miss Truncheon was taking him through the book of Lamentations. She made him stand right in front of her while he recited, and often it could take some time.
As he spoke, Everett held a spool of yarn between his hands that his beloved governess was rolling into a ball. "… and cast down from heaven unto the earth the beauty of Israel, and remembered not his footstool in the day of his anger!" Miss Truncheon nodded encouragingly. Everett was dressed in his "weekend play clothes", a sailor suit with Donald Duck beret, blue shorts, high white socks and saddle shoes. During the week, Miss Truncheon made Ev wear a blazer and tie to school, which was humiliating enough, but at home at night and on the weekends, Miss Truncheon made Ev dress as he had when he was four—and it kept him tractable, she felt. Already that evening, one of Ev’s cousins had come by, asking if Everett could go play pool with him and his friends, and because Ev was in his sailor suit, he was too embarrassed to come to the door, and Miss Truncheon was able to get that naughty cousin away.
"Continue to recite, Everett." Miss Truncheon said encouragingly. " The Lord hath swallowed up all the…" Everett paused. He couldn’t remember. "all the…" Everett stared at Miss Truncheon, who was looking perturbed. "Everett, what’s wrong?" she asked in an annoyed voice. "Haven’t you been studying this week?" Miss Truncheon was in her forties, but still looked like the runway model she had once been, in spite of her dark blue sweater and skirt outfit. As she breathed in impatiently, her chest strained against the low cut sweater, and Everett tried not to look, as it was distracting him terribly. "Please, please give me a hint, Miss Truncheon," Ev begged.
Miss Truncheon smiled. "Well, all right…but it’s a trade…you have to give me one of your shoes." Everett’s heart sank. He knew where this was going. Ev put down the yarn carefully, and untied one of his shoes, and handed it to Miss Truncheon. She smiled grimly and gave him a word "Habitations, " Everett continued. " The-the Lord hath swallowed up all the habitations of Jacob, and…have—" "No!" Miss Truncheon stood up and slapped Everett’s face.
"Did you memorize or not this week, young man?" Miss Truncheon was only five six, and Everett was a strapping six two, but from the frightened look on his face, it seemed as if he were only two or three inches tall. "The-the Lord hath swallowed up all the habits---" "HABITATIONS!" Miss Everett screamed. "I gave you that word already, Everett! Take off your other shoe and your socks, sir!" Tears came into Everett’s eyes as he removed his other shoe and his socks, handing them to Miss Truncheon. Usually if he missed a word, he only had to give Miss Truncheon one piece of clothing, but she was very angry tonight. "Now continue…and be very careful, sir." Miss Truncheon laid her hand on Everett’s arm and gazed into his eyes. Everett knew that she was very angry if she referred to him as "sir." Suddenly a few of the words came to him.
"… habitations of Jacob, and hath not pitied: he hath thrown down in his—in his…" Everett was stuck again. How was he supposed to memorize an entire book of the Old Testament along with school and everything else?" "Everett, take off your short pants." Everett sighed, and removed his sailor suit pants, and handed them to Miss Truncheon, who threw them on the floor impatiently. Now Everett was wearing his sailor hat, his sailor top, and a small pair of white underpants. They called his underwear "tighty whities" in the school locker room, but Miss Truncheon refused to buy Ev boxer shorts, saying they were obscene. "The word is wrath, Everett." "wrath the strong holds of the daughter of Judge—"
Everett felt Miss Truncheon pinch his inner thigh. "The word is Judah, not JUDGE!" Miss Truncheon screamed. "Your hat and sailor shit, sir." Everett removed his Donald Duck hat, and his sailor shirt, and handed them to Miss Truncheon. Now the school’s star quarterback, and captain of the baseball, track and wrestling teams was standing in front of his governess wearing only a pair of "tighty whities" "wrath the strong holds of the daughters of Judah; he hath brought them down to the ground: he hath polluted the kingdom and…" Everett’s lower lip came out, and he began looking very sad. "Is that all you can remember, dear?" Miss Truncheon asked softly. "Y-yes ma’am." Miss Truncheon held out her hand, and Everett pulled his underpants off and handed them to her, and then the star quarterback burst into tears and walked over to the arm of the couch and bent over it, his bare bottom sticking out prominently, as his governess went to fetch her hairbrush, her razor strop and her Malacca cane. "Obviously you need some incentive to study, my boy…"
Forty years later, the situation was the same, though he was now expected to memorize the plots and scripts of "Law and Order," and "Boomtown", and Julie used a Spencer paddle and a scourge…but the evenings were the same, and his memorization was still terrible.
In the mornings, after Ev brought Julie breakfast, she would tie him down and tease a bit more…and then lock him up and send him off to work…and work was a changed place when your dick was locked down…every passing 20 year old file clerk caused horrible spasms to Ev’s breadbasket. And of course Ev’s office was filled with clerks and secretaries in clinging blouses, teased blonde hair, and miniscule skirts. He’d hired most of them from Texas, his home state, and that’s how the girls were there.
But once a week he had an opportunity to orgasm, sometimes if Julie was in an extraordinarily good mood, she’d bring Ev off with her high heels…but the jerk off time was always there, until Everett’s pride got him. One night Julie and Everett were out to dinner with friends of hers, Daphne and Tom Marlin. The Marlins had a very similar relationship to Julie and Evs, except that Daph, a pert redhead, kept Tom locked up for two to four weeks, and was considering giving her husband a release date of once every two months.
"Daphne feels that I’m only spoiling her because of my orgasm" Tom had said, with a regretful smile. "I want her to understand that earning my orgasm is a distant second to how I feel about her. and I think I’m ready for less orgasms now." Daphne had stroked Tom’s cheek with a pink nail, as her husband shifted somewhat uncomfortably in his chair…Everett guessed that it had been a while since Tom had had a release, and so every touch by his strawberry blonde partner was probably quite uncomfortable to his bulging, unfulfilled erection. After touching Tom’s cheek, Daph had dropped her hand to the inside of Tom’s thigh, at which time he rolled his eyes a bit in frustrated consternation. "What a man, huh, Julie?" Daphne chuckled. "He’ll go through anything for me." Julie had smiled as well, and squeezed Tom’s hand, and Everett had taken all this rather badly.
At home, he’d broached the subject with his now-newlywed wife. "Dear, I think I could be like Tom. I have endurance." "What do you mean?" Julie had asked pleasantly, pretending she didn’t know what Everett was talking about. At the time of their conversation, Everett was tied upside down on a large torture wheel on their dungeon wall, Julie was stroking his dick and blowing on the head. which she could do standing up, as of course the dick was facing her. My God, he’s a tall man, she thought, stroking the inside of Everett’s thigh. "Honey, I want you to know that it isn’t about my orgasm as well. though I love my masturbation times." It was difficult for Everett to speak, as the blood was all rushing to his head, except of course the blood flowing through his dick as Julie’s cherry-red fingernails twiddled the shaft. At one point, Julie had leaned over and licked Everett’s ball sac, something she’d never done, and Everett’s entire body shook from desire. Everett was panting heavily. "Are you sure you could go on Tom’s regimen?" Julie looked down at Everett’s red, sweating face. "After all, he did a lot of work with the Peace Corps in Ghana before coming to DC to work for The Americans for Democrat Action."
This enraged the ultraconservative Everett, as Julie had known it would. Like Ike Eisenhower, there was no challenge too big for her guy, it seemed. "I can damn well do it!" Everett stated hotly, and Julie leaned over and pushed a lever that pulled Everett’s head up and his legs down. Now he looked quite ridiculous, tied to the wheel like this with his poor cock sticking straight out. Julie leaned her arm down and began stroking slowly. "You know, baby…it took Daphne and Tom a long time to get to this point." Julie had said. At this point, they’d only been experimenting with chastity for eight months. "I think that Tom got a weekly orgasm for nearly two or three years, then it went to biweekly—" Everett snorted. "I can go from weekly to monthly right now!" He looked terribly firm, really just like Dwight Eisenhower, Julie considered.
END OF PART TWO
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