Bully Training

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The bully comes back to dominate his victim!
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Frankie was surprised when Roy came home and said he'd seen Chisel, the schoolyard bully who had created such havoc in his life as a kid back in Philadelphia.

"It's amazing, Frankie" Roy was saying as they had dinner.

"Chisel's changed so much, he's a Buddhist now, and a probation officer as well."

Frankie cocked her head, and a blonde curl fell into her cleavage, and Roy took an intake of breath...every time he saw her, even after seven years of marriage, seemed like the first.

"Really? The guy who used to bully you? I would have thought he'd be on other side of the law. Didn't you tell me he used to take your lunch money and vandalize your car?"

Roy nodded.

Roy had been shocked when he'd ran into Chisel, walking through DC Superior Court with his fellow prosecutors, seeing the familiar big squarish head and beetle brows of Ernesto "Chisel" Fantucci. Ken, Roy's second chair for the O'Malley trial, had turned to him and said

"Roy, you're white as a sheet!" and Roy himself had felt the familiar dampness in his shorts.

He'd peed his pants just like he'd done in the old days whenever Chisel had grabbed Roy by the shirt and slammed him against a wall, before dragging the honor student into the locker room.

But fortunately, today Roy had been wearing dark pants and the urine stain hadn't shown .

Chisel had recognized Roy at the same time and come up and shaken Roy's hand- -and apologized!

"Dear, you were saying? The guy's not a criminal anymore? " Frankie asked.

He looks so white when talking about this guy, she thought.

"Well, Chisel went into the Marines and then got some therapy somewhere, and went to school, and now he's just a regular guy.

" But it couldn't be. Frankie knew her husband had some kinks, but didn't think he was a fag. Frankie reached over and stroked Roy's crimson cheeks.

. But Roy was like a child at times.

She wondered whether whatever happened had happened in a locker room, as Roy always changed his clothes at home or even in the car rather than change in the locker room of their country club, or in a changing room at any hotel.

Anywhere where there were other men, it seemed.

Today, of course Roy had to remind himself, things were different.

Elroy Myers, titular head of DC's Corporation Counsel, had had a coffee with Ernesto "Chisel" Fantucci, a lowly probation officer, and Chisel had said respectfully.

"Mr. Myers, you are a great guy, and I'm so sorry I behaved that way back then."

Roy had thought of telling Chisel that he could call Roy by his first name, but rather enjoyed the way "Mr. Myers" sounded in his old enemy's mouth.

"If there's anything I can do, Mr. Myers, please tell me."

Roy of course had been quite gracious and realized that now he, Roy was in much more of a power position. Those old days were over forever!

"Darling, don't you think about whatever it is that happened."

Frankie said to Roy tenderly. "It's over now and you and that awful man can be friendly, or you can just avoid him. But you're an adult, and a very important one."

Frankie stroked Roy's hair and tugged her sweater down a bit, further emphasizing her full cleavage, and Roy smiled, as she knew he would.

Roy prized Frankie over anything else in the world, it seemed.

He smiled at Frankie worshipfully.

"Tell you what, why don't we play one of our little games tonight."" Frankie said with adventurous eyes.

Roy smiled widely.

"Yes Miss Francesca."

Frankie's voice grew steely.

"Then I want you to clean up this table, the dining room and the entire kitchen, spotlessly, and I'll be in to check in twenty minutes."

Frankie slapped Roy lightly on the face and he looked at his plate ashamedly.

"Twenty minutes, Elroy.

And when I come to inspect, I want you naked and kneeling on the kitchen floor, with EVERYTHING SPOTLESS, as I said in twenty minutes."

Roy arose hurriedly and undressed, folding his clothes neatly on one of the dining room chairs.

As he cleared up the dining room, Roy thought gratefully of how wonderful Frankie had been in understanding his fantasies.

They'd started out during the engagement with Frankie giving Roy an occasional bare-bottom hairbrush spanking.

Roy could recall Frankie, who he had met as a young stripper being prosecuted for cocaine possession, walking into Roy's living room, her 40DD chest heaving in a snug sweater, ordering Roy to take down his pants.

Roy could still feel his naked penis itching as it was pressed against Frankie's scratchy tweed miniskirt as she slammed Mummy's old elephant-tusk hairbrush against his bare bottom, as Roy's legs tangled miserably in his bunched up trousers.

Frankie's boobs would press against Roy's back as the hairbrush fell again and again against Roy's miserably scarlet buttocks as hard or harder than Mummy had ever whipped him with the same brush!

Frankie laughed as she went to her bedroom to change into the black satin bra and panty set that always drove Roy so wild.

My God, sometimes she thought he was hotter for her in that outfit than when she was naked!

Not that she was naked around Elroy that much these days.

As Frankie attached the clasps together that connected her bra cups from the front, she breathed impetuously in the mirror, and watched her cleavage shake and bounce in the tiny black cups.

Yes he'd like this. And was Roy in for quite a night!

Roy of course thought that "spotless" just meant that he was to clear the table and wash the dinner things, but he had another think coming. Spotless was as Miss Francesca defined it.

And of course Roy would whine when Frankie began punishing him for the shoddy work he'd done-

Roy whined easily, and in a way she couldn't blame that guy Chisel for bullying Roy a little bit.

Frankie could imagine what a wuss Roy was in high school

This as even now Roy was such a nerd, he had his stamp collection and enjoyed things like putting together jigsaw puzzles.

Yes, unlike the chopper cycle building losers that Frankie had grown up around.

Yes, Roy was a bit of a whiner, but he'd given Frankie such a new life, helped her give up drugs and the stripping/prostitution lifestyle she'd been so accustomed to.

She should have more patience with her wimp, really.

Well, Frankie could take out some of her annoyance on Roy tonight.

After she'd adjusted her lingerie, Frankie pulled fishnet stockings on, applied eyeliner and bright red lip gloss, and painted her nails the color of blood.

What fun tonight would be!

Roy began washing dishes in the kitchen after having carefully wiped down he dining room and put up the chairs.

Frankie had really begun to enjoy the games more and more in their first year of marriage, after learning that Roy, the slave-boy would do as much housework as needed.

The first eighteen months of marriage, it had been a normal sex life, with occasional bondage evenings, that Roy really looked forward to.

He would be chased around the house naked in an apron with a feather duster, and Frankie menacing him from behind...

By their fourth year of marriage, Frankie and Roy had escalated to an entire weekend of mistress/slave activity.

This with Roy tucking Frankie in bed in the evenings and then going down to sleep on the basement floor.

Now, they occasionally played during the week, and Frankie's punishment implements had advanced way beyond hairbrushes and willow switches.

"Is this a game or not, Roy?"

Frankie had asked the week before as Roy sniveled that Miss Francesca had gone a little far and too hard on his buttocks with her cat o' nine tails.

Frankie had locked him in the closet that night and made loud moaning noises, playing with her vibrator.

"I don't let crybabies lick my pussy, Elroy!"

Roy had wept miserably, crouching naked under Frankie's fur coats in the boxy, hot little wardrobe.

Now Roy scrubbed all the pans as cleanly as he could, and made sure everything was looking pristine.

He knew better than to use the $15,000 dishwasher he'd bought Frankie for her birthday; during punishment sessions, slave Elroy had to wash everything himself.

She'd taught him this by turning the dishwasher on and sticking Roy's head in it.

Frankie took nearly forty minutes adjusting her makeup and putting up her hair but she still knew Roy wouldn't have been done cleaning.

Stepping into her high heels, Frankie picked up her bamboo cane and her Spencer paddle with all the lovely little holes in it.

Frankie then went to check on her husband in the kitchen.

She came upon Roy frantically wiping up the counter, stark naked, of course

When Roy saw Frankie, he immediately threw down the rag and dropped to his knees in front of her, staring at the floor.

"Why weren't you kneeling here already?"

Frankie looked at her watch and thwacked Roy's shoulders and back with the bamboo cane.

THWACK! THWACK!

The cane bent slapping on Roy's back and welts arose against Roy's pale, flabby skin.

"It's been forty fucking minutes you little faggot, I expected you to have this kitchen ship shape in about seventeen minutes.

Stick up your butt and put your face on the floor."

Roy stuck his rear in the air and pushed his face in the floor. Biting his lip, Roy awaited the onslaught.

Now, Frankie let loose with the Spencer paddle.

WHACK WHACK WHACK. Frankie loved the way the air sailed through the holes in the paddle as it landed on Roy's bright red buttocks.

Roy bit his wrist to keep from screaming, he knew that his sobbing would enrage Miss Francesca.

The wooden Spencer paddle was certainly painful, but he had to learn to take it better.

It was amazing, as titular head of DC's Corporation Counsel, Roy enjoyed the respect and fear that he tended to bring up in clients and defense attorneys.

Roy remembered the day he'd see in that tousled blond girl in that drug trial.

Roy hadn't prosecuted this one, he had just shown up to watch one of his former law school students handle the case.

The judge, who had worked with Roy in the past, had also greeted him with respect.

It had been quite a day, except that the defendant, this tousle haired druggie stripper, had smirked at Roy.

She'd giggled at him in the defense box and stuck out her tongue.

Now she was his respectable housewife, but also his Goddess WHACK!

The Spencer landed one more time on Roy's savaged buttocks, and a tear rolled down his cheek. Not so much the tough prosecutor now!

"Hmm."

Frankie looked about her and the counters were indeed glimmering, the burners on the stove had been wiped out and the dishes, pots and pans were all neatly stacked up.

Frankie noticed out of the corner of her eye that Roy was stealing looks at her and that his cock was hardening nicely.

"Let's see how these cabinets look-I hope there's not a speck of dust in them. Roy looked alarmed.

"Miss Francesca, I just cleaned up the dinner mess ma'am, you didn't specify the cabinets-" WHACK WHACK!

The Spencer landed again and Roy howled.

"Spotless is what I said, Elroy."

Roy watched Frankie's gorgeous buttocks undulate as she got up on tippie toe to investigate the shelves.

'

God, she was such a tease. Frankie knew Roy was a sucker for her gorgeous body and she was always dressed in tight sweaters or crop-tops, even at thirty-four years old.

And she loved to tease Roy, and often would tie him spread-eagled to the bed and perch between his legs, her gorgeous body clad in French underwear.

Frankie would play her fingers around Ray's tortured, bulging erection for two or three hours, rubbing quickly and then pulling her fingers away as soon as it looked as if he might be about to orgasm.

In the beginning days of these teases, Frankie would finish off by giving Roy a mind-bending blowjob or mounting his penis so he could fuck her to orgasm.

But lately she'd made Roy jerk off in front of her after the long tease, pumping his poor cock while she sat in a chair, long legs folded, and still in the French underwear, ignoring him to read "Mirabella" magazine.

Of course when Roy serviced Frankie, he would spend hours and hours licking between her legs, giving her countless orgasms.

How pitiful he looks, Frankie thought, staring at her nude, weeping husband.

Such a pathetic crybaby. Frankie felt like picking up the cane and giving it to Roy again, but she focused in finding fault in the kitchen instead.

Frankie opened the cabinets, chuckling to herself. Had these cabinets been touched since she'd done her spring cleaning last year?

At the time Frankie had had Roy help, naked in an apron, cleaning hurriedly as Frankie corrected any mistakes with a few whacks from her scourge.

Yes, landing it right on Roy's ass cheeks whenever he slowed down.

But there had been little cleaning since then, as Roy had been so caught up prosecuting these drug trials, and Frankie had her internship at the gallery.

She put her finger in a cabinet, moving it around and then pulled it out, leaning down so Roy could see her bulging cleavage, compressed in the bra top.

Frankie put her very dusty finger under Roy's nose.

Crouched on the floor, he looked quite mournful. Roy shuddered, seeing Frankie's long nail covered with the dust.

Of course he hadn't known she wanted the entire kitchen spotless, including all the cabinets...

But she would have found a way to punish him if it had been all gleaming as well!

Frankie had once tossed an ashtray on the floor after inspecting a freshly vacuumed rug during one of Roy's house cleanings, just so she could punish him for it.

"Does this finger seem clean to you, dear?"

Frankie was

disgusted. "Ass up again, please."

Roy protested "Miss Francesca, I didn't have time I-"

"PUT YOUR ASS UP BEFORE I GO GET THE CAT!"

Roy put his rear end in the air to receive ten more blistering whacks from the Spencer paddle, followed by five with the bamboo.

As Roy sobbed quietly, Frankie ignored him and opened the refrigerator door, looking into it, while she hummed.

"Goodness this refrigerator hasn't been cleaned out in ages."

Frankie looked down to the floor where her husband knelt naked and prone.

"Did this floor get washed and waxed? I don't think so."

Roy's shoulders began shaking and his lower lip trembled.

"I-I couldn't do it all in twenty minutes, Frankie."

WHACK. The bamboo cane lashed Roy's left cheek, and he began blubbering. Frankie was adamant as she spoke.

"I am Miss Francesca to you, Elroy, you pitiful worm."

Chisel Comes to Dinner

"You're the best, man.." said Deon gratefully.

"I have had so many P.O's who would have sent me back to jail for this."

Ernesto "Chisel" Fantucci crumpled up the report that showed Deon Williams as having tested positive for marijuana use and tossed it in the public wastebasket.

"Never mind smoking the occasional joint, Deon.

I'm just glad you're holding a job and working things out with your old lady.

Call me if there are any problems."

The two men separated in the parking lot of the DC Superior Court, and Chisel mounted his Harley cycle, to drive to a dinner engagement he was not looking forward to at all.

He'd just punched Roy a few times in school.

But Roy had been so nasty, and made such bigoted remarks back then, who could blame Chisel?

But he would make amends through this dinner. He knocked on the door, and a gorgeous woman answered it.

I'm Ernesto Fantucci."

She gave him a warm smile.

"No formalities here. My name's Francesca-Frankie to my friends."

Frankie gave Chisel a brief hug, and he could feel her full breasts pushing against him, and she pecked him on the cheek.

"You're Chisel, right?"

Fantucci smiled ruefully.

"Well no one's called me that since college, the angry young man phase is over now."

Frankie hugged Chisel again and whispered in his ear

"You don't mind if I call you Chisel, do you?"

Chisel felt his dick pressing against her hip. Shit, why argue?

"No, that's fine, um, Frankie."

Roy got up from his Wall Street Journal to greet Chisel as warmly as possible.

Why had Frankie wanted to invite this psychopath?

He couldn't have changed that much. But she'd insisted.

"I just want to see what the guy's like. I'm amazed that he's gone through this kind of a transformation, and he certainly (cough) had an affect on your life.

You don't mind, do you honey? Just for your Miss Francesca."

Frankie had asked Roy this while Roy was bound on his back to a hassock, and Frankie's leather heel was poking in his sweltering cock.

First she poked it, with the left foot covered in the sharp heel.

Frankie then stroked the frenum tenderly with her right foot, where the toes pulled and pinched the tip of Roy's cock until he was gasping.

Frankie had been sitting on the couch, her denim miniskirt lifted slightly to show no panties as her long legs had moved around her prisoner's crotch.

"I was thinking of giving you some sexual release, darling.

I'll unlock your new chastity belt and maybe you can screw me, but would you mind if Chisel came to dinner?"

Again the toes played with the head of Roy's poor penis, the expensive pedicure scraping his foreskin unmercifully .

This while the right shoe gently, or perhaps not so gently, poked the full testicle sack until Roy, close to tears, finally said yes.

Roy was kind under Frankie's thumb these days.

In the early years of their marriage, Roy had been quite pleased that Frankie was willing to accommodate him in his fantasies of being her slave...

And they'd gone from having a normal sex life, with occasional spices of S/M to having it be that a good seventy percent of their sexual play involved Frankie in her role as Miss Francesca.

During these sexual games, Roy was not allowed to screw Frankie, he only could perform oral sex on her.

And then, if he was a good boy, could masturbate in the nude in front of his fully clothed, smirking wife.

Roy wasn't sure when it had quite happened, no...

In recent months, Frankie had almost completely stopped having regular sex with him even when they weren't playing their special games.

Frankie had become less and less interested in regular sex.

Forget blowjobs completely-that hadn't happened for poor Elroy in nearly three years now-

But Frankie even made Roy go through incredible hoops to screw her-

Roy would have to buy her jewelry, mow the yard, put new tires on her car. and then at some point, Miss Francesca took these favors for granted, and Roy's sex life it seemed, completely had dried up, though he'd kept trying.

Many nights Roy would climb in bed with his wife, and turn to her, hoping for a nice screw, and Frankie would force his head down between her legs, where Roy would lick Frankie to numerous orgasms.

After she grew tired of this, he would attempt to kiss Frankie hoping for some amour of his own, but she would turn away from his pussy- laden breath and go to sleep.

Roy had been forced to ease his sexual tension through masturbation, often in the stalls at work, because Frankie didn't approve of Roy jerking off whenever he felt like it, whether or not she was giving him "any"

But Roy had also had chastity fantasies, and had begged Frankie repeatedly to order him a chastity belt.

Wednesday had been Roy's fortieth birthday, and Frankie had brought out the box!

Locking the belt on, Frankie had smiled widely.

In the past seven days, Frankie had had Roy lick her to orgasm night after night, and Roy had had no relief at all.

Several times Frankie had removed the belt when Roy's hands were tied, and spent several hours manipulating her hands or feet around his cock.