Presenting the Snipe!

May 2013

The Snipe had been laid off from the yarn mill, and then he'd done a spell bouncing drunks at the "Illegal Beagle" before working for a bit for the verger at Buttermilk Purity Temple.

"I think that I have something that more might fit your best interests" Dieterle said with a smile. She sipped her beer and cocked her head.

"Isn't that what they used to tell us at the orphanage?" Snipe said, rolling his eyes. "Whenever, historically, anyone has said they were looking out for my best interests, some kind of misery followed, Dieterle."

"Snipey, have a little faith." Dieterle said. "He's cute, isn't he, Tamar?"

"He's adorable, Dieterle. Look at those pecs. If I was straight, this would be my guy."

Tamar was a little older, a matronly sales manager type. Brassy, blonde hair, and quite humorous.

She was Dieterle's girlfriend, and Snipe did like it that Dieterle was being treated well, after years of eating shit sandwiches, as it were.

The last time the Snipe had seen Dieterle, he had been visiting her at Anvers Correctional for forging prescriptions of Oxy and that kind of thing. Dieterle was well dressed now, and appeared to be a happy little dyke.

"I can't believe you and Tamar need a roommate." Snipe said, looking around the expansive Colonial house.

"It's a gorgeous place. Normally I am never inside places like this when the lights are on."

Snipe heard Dieterle tell Tamar that Snipe could make up his share of room and board with repairs and such, and besides he was "tolerant".

What did that mean? Snipe discovered soon. One night he came in and saw Dieterle, in her torn jeans and snug tee with Tamar over her knee.

Tamar was in her business suit, and her skirt was up and her pantyhose were down, and Tamar's big butt was sticking out, and Dieterle was hammering away at it with a hairbrush.

"No more, Mommy, please." Tamar was screaming, and Dieterle continued to thwap Tamar's bare ass. "Forgive us, Snipe, we're having some unpleasantness."

"Little young for you for Tamar to be calling you Mommy." Snipe thought as he left the living room to play a little Xbox in his room.

Snipe stayed in his room for about an hour, and then went out for a beer.

Dieterle was now alone on the couch, deep in "Interview" magazine, and over in the corner, wearing nothing but high heels, was Tamar.

She had a nice smooth ass, but it was BIG. And it was red with little purple bruises on it here and there. Snipe could hear Tamar quietly sobbing.

As neither he nor Dieterle had gainful employment, Snipe really thought his pal shouldn't be kicking the Golden Goose, but what could he say?

Dieterle tossed her bluish-green hair and grinned at Snipe. "Tamar has been a bad girl. She forgot to finish the dishes this morning before she went to work."

"No, those were my dishes." Snipe said. "The kitchen was clean when I got up, and Tamar had left for work probably around eight a.m."

Snipe stopped for a moment. "But Dieterle, you like your teeth, there won't be any spanking of the Snipe, girlie. I'll remember to do my dishes tomorrow-"

"You see?" wailed Tamar. "I cleaned the kitchen before I left."

"I'm going to get my belt if there's any more sass from you, Missy."

In the corner, Tamar was weeping, but she was also steaming a little bit.

The humiliation of being punished and stripped in front of a male was a bit of a turn on, but this-this Snipe person was white trash if trash ever existed.

Tamar supposed that Dieterle was also a bit trashy, but she was smart, and adorable, despite the multicolored hair, and the piercings and tattoos. The past year and a half had been incredibly passionate.

Dieterle had known very little about BDSM before Tamar introduced it to her, and there had been an early time when Dieterle had been afraid she was hitting too hard, and that kind of thing.

But now Tamar wondered if she had created a monster.

"She's a sexy old broad, isn't she, Snipe?" Dieterle's voice floated over.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Tamar, baby. Turn around and show the Snipe your tits. They don't sag much."

"Look, Dieterle, I really think that your friend has gotten an eyeful, and I should put my clothes back on now."

It was true that Tamar had entertained a few fantasies about being humiliated, exposed as a slave to other people, but she'd thought more of maybe her hot secretary Berenice, or maybe the waitress at Lavender Lesbos.

Why a man?

Tamar wasn't aroused by men, and certainly had no feelings towards incorporating one in her fantasy scenes. What the...

"It's up to you..." Dieterle's voice came lilting behind her. This of course meant, that no-limits-Tamar could end the thing now, but did she really want to?

DAMMIT. Tamar sighed, and turned around and walked over to stand in front of the Snipe, who was sprawled in that male disgusting way, on the couch, scarfing Doritos.

"Nice tits" Snipe said with his mouth full of chips.

But you could tell he was a little uncomfortable, since the so-called landlady was here, and if she were pissed about all this, he would lose his three hots and a cot.

Dieterle came to stand next to Snipe. "Yeah. She does have that gross pooch-out stomach. I keep telling Tamar about crunches. But what are you going to do?"

Dieterle slapped Tamar across the stomach, and Snipe choked on his Doritos, laughing.

Tamar was pleased to see that there was a bulge in the Snipe's jeans, which meant she didn't look THAT bad. Still, this was terribly embarrassing.

Dieterle had shaved Tamar's clit clean the night before, and she felt terribly exposed.

Look at the little bastard checking out my rack. Dieterle seemed to notice it, too.

"Do you want to play with her tits, Snipe? Tamar's being punished right now, and she's got to make it up to me."

"Well, dude, it's not her fault about the dishes." Slowly though, it was getting clear in the Snipe's clouded brain that this really wasn't about the dishes, was it?

Now, Dieterle came up behind Tamar and rubbed her nipples, and Tamar moaned.

"Don't you remember that night that Millicent came over with the hash oil, Tamar? And you told me that you fantasized about being forced to suck all these cocks, even though you are a hard-core lipstick lesbo?"

It came back to Tamar. Oh God, that's right. She had. What could be a worse horror? A more humiliating act? And for Tamar, who had a long record of women's rights behind her...

Men had often lusted after Tamar in her salad years, but she'd always said with pride "You'll never get me, dickos..." And to be forced by a gorgeous female lover.

Tamar had once had a dominant girlfriend who had fucked about six guys while Tamar was locked in a chastity device and had to watch, weeping and jealous, but that was about as far as the whole thing had gone.

"But every cock sucker has to start with her first wiener, you know." Dieterle kissed Tamar's ear in the way that she knew her lover shivered over. "C'mon Tammy, let's give the Snipe a nice evening."

"N-no. I'm not ready, Mistress Dieterle." Tamara tried to smile at Dieterle, but her blood turned to ice as she saw her Goddess's eyes narrow.

"Well, I guess we have to do some convincing." Dieterle went to the mantelpiece and took what appeared to be a phone cord from an old phone booth. It was made of coiled steel, and was about two feet long, and yes, at one end was the phone.

Dieterle held the phone end and walked up to Tamar.

It was an interesting contrast-Dieterle, a young punk rock girl was clad in leather pants and a concert tee with the sleeves cut off, and of course Tamar was naked except for ill-fitting high heels.

Dieterle swung the phone cord and it lashed across Tamar's full, soft breasts.

WHACK! TWHACK! Several times the phone cord landed on Tamar's tits, and then on her stomach.

Tamar tried to cover her tits, but then Dieterle went to her handbag and brought out a collar with cuffs attached to the back.

As the Snipe watched in wonderment, Dieterle put the collar on Tamar's neck, and then forced Tamar's wrists through the back cuffs so her hands were trapped behind her head.

"Now then. I offered you a chance to perform your first fellatio, with your hands for help, but now you're going to have to suck on your knees with hands trapped, hon."

Dieterle's voice was sweet and honeyed, and Tamar looked somewhat alarmed. Still, her juices were flowing down her leg.

Tamar was so excited her knees were knocking, and at the same time completely revolted. As a submissive, more than once, she'd been forced to suck strap-on dildos and once, by a cruel bisexual domme, to suck a used condom dry.

But never the real thing. Tamar felt Dieterle's little hand come up behind her, and suddenly a shove.

Because Tamar's hands were behind her head, she could not break her fall, and almost fell on her face on the shag carpet.

Then Dieterle's hand came down and dragged Tamar up by her hair, and now she was on her knees.

"Now I want you to take your teeth and unzip this man." Dieterle said. "Pull that zipper down and have a feast. You don't want to make Mistress mad, Tammy baby."

"I-I-don't-" Tamar turned her face away from the zipper. Yet she refused to use her safe word. Could she get out of this on her own merits? She'd never used her safe word in twenty-eight years as an active sub.

"Aaw." Dieterle's honeyed tone came from behind her. Tamar really, really wished that she wasn't locked with her hands behind her neck like this.

All she could see was the damn crotch of this loser.

"You want your own way. Isn't that cute?"

Suddenly Tamar heard a swish and there it was, a cruel cut across her full buttocks. Dieterle had picked up their old friend, the bamboo cane. WHACK! the cane fell again.

Tamar clenched her butt cheeks and bit the inside of her lip. She would not budge.

"Hey, Snipe, give me your ciggie for a moment, will ya?" Snipe took his Marlboro out of his mouth and handed it over Tamar's head. Tamar felt a sharp burn on her butt.

Then there was another. As she was balancing herself on her knees, with no help from her manacled hands, Tamar bit her lip in fear.

"I can keep burning, but you'd best get your little mouth up close to the zipper, Tammy-babe." Dieterle's voice came behind Tamar.

Tamar sighed, burst into tears and inched forward Her hands were cramped and her pussy was hot. She bit the Snipe's zipper with gusto.

November, 2018

Becca came into the house, she'd had a busy day. It was stressful being the police captain of District 6 of Skokie, Illinois.

She walked into the living room, and Chad, her housemate was kneeling on the living room rug, naked, and fingering his chastity belt.

"Master Snipe's not here?" Becca asked. Chad usually was not allowed to leave his room, where he ran his computer linguistics business.

"He says he'll be back by seven, and we should be ready for a long night."

Becca tossed her long dark hair, and went upstairs, where she tossed her briefcase on the bed, and removed her clothes and her holster and checked her full breasts in the full-length mirror behind the door.

Becca looked closely at her right areola, and the mark had finally faded.

Becca couldn't blame Master Snipe, she'd begged him to brand her with his car cigarette lighter, and although it had been painful, it also had been the most incredible orgasm...

She'd fondled the burn and diddled herself every night for a week. Chad was so jealous that Becca wasn't chastity pierced yet, and could play with her nether lips as much as she liked.

Would Oliver make it home in time? Ollie was a French teacher at St. Reggie's, and sometimes he had car trouble. Snipe, though, didn't brook many excuses.

In a way, Snipe reminded Becca of a cheerleading coach she'd had, who just worked you hard no matter how you were feeling.

Oooh, Six fifty-five. Becca quickly glossed her lips and stepped into high heels and came downstairs carefully...those heels were HIGH.

Oliver was still not home. A few weeks ago, when Ollie had missed seven pm curfew, Snipe locked him in a kneeling stock in the basement and let some twenty-year-old skate punk drop in and cane poor Ollie and then corn-hole him for HOURS.

Becca dropped to her knees next to Chad, who was still looking at his locked cock sadly.

"He might let you out tonight." Becca said, trying to be nice. "It's been seventy0four days, after all."

"I don't think so, Becks." Chad said, biting his lip.

It had been quite an offense. Snipe had brought some college girl home, and had fucked her all night, and then had the kid sneak into the bathroom where Chad was showering...just a little treat.

The girl had pulled back the shower curtain, and pulled Chad's dick, leading him out of the tub.

Cinnamon, or whatever her name was, had already dressed to go to school, but as she was toying with Chad's dick, and leading him out of the bathroom, she'd rubbed a little too fast, and he'd cum all over her blouse.

"Eew, gross, he fucked up my nice Ann Taylor-" Cinnamon had really been upset, and Snipe had been even angrier.

True, Chad had been orgasm-less at the time for about twelve days, and his reward was going to be, actually, a blowjob from Becca that night.

But Snipe, after caning Chad's penis and locking it in a chastity belt, had decreed that Chad would not get out, even for teasing for ninety days. And he had to pay for the dry cleaning of Cinnamon's top.

Oliver, Chad and Becca had pooled their salaries to invite the famous Master Snipe to come and live with them, giving him room, board and twelve hundred dollars a month to keep them in line...and he did it well!

Chad was the youngest of the housemates. He'd only been here sixteen months, and Oliver about four years. Becca had been in the house for eleven years, and now was the senior resident.

She'd seen lots of submissives come and go, two of the housemates who had recruited Becca were dead, and one had married his Mistress and moved to Quebec.

In the time Becca had been here, they'd had five Masters and two Mistresses, professional, that is. Previously, they'd gone through voluntary dominants, who did it just for room and board and had outside jobs, but as they'd all gotten a little older, and not as appealing...

It took a little moolah to attract the right person.

But, oh, it was so worth it. During the eight months after Shasta had left (and was she a great bitch on wheels) Becca had resumed smoking, and gained twelve pounds.

Indolent, lazy...at work of course, Becca was a hardass, supervising cops and detectives in her precinct with a fist of iron, in a bit of a velvet glove.

Make your bite worse than your bark, was Becca's theory, and her gentle "suggestions" to her squad were quickly obeyed.

But at home, Becca needed frequent punishments and humiliations. Spending her day off holding a penny to the wall with her nose while kneeling on driveway pebbles marvelously re-focused her for the upcoming shifts.

As a matter of fact, lately, Becca felt she masturbated too much, and was thinking about asking Master Snipe if she could return to her chastity piercing.

A once a month orgasm, being forced to hump a chair leg like a dog, only after having fellated all the men in the house, that would be good for her.

Or even a party...sometimes Snipe would have a party for Skokie's leather set, with dominants of both sexes coming in from Chicago.

Then the blindfolded Becca, Oliver and Chad would be busily using their mouths to service cocks and cunts for hours, and finally, at about three a.m. could masturbate in front of the guests, who were dressed and ready to leave again.

Snipe's parties were the best! Or the worst. Blindfolded, they couldn't see the beautiful naked bodies they were servicing, and they couldn't duck the swing of various whips and crops.

Snipe's submissives, of course would have seen the guests as they served them dinner in the nude, but the guests were, at that time, still beautifully dressed in tuxedoes and diaphanous ball gowns.

And, at the end of the evening, Becca, jaws aching, would frig herself kneeling in front of the re-dressed guests. Sometimes Snipe would give Becca a cucumber or a pair of sharp scissors to use to diddle herself...and the orgasm was always intense!

The Snipe had put Becca on a diet, and given her true consequences if she didn't lose at least two pounds a week, for every weigh in.

Since Snipe didn't really believe in "plateaus"...those periods where the body stalled in losing weight, Becca's rear had gotten a lot of welts despite her constant diet and exercise.

And, Snipe insisted that Becca go to the gym and get "tight" too. Crunches, aerobics, all that sort of thing. If the Snipe pinched more than an inch on Becca's belly, it was enough of a skin roll to attach a mousetrap...and Becca would carry the thing under her clothes...oooh.

Now the door opened, and Oliver, holding his clothes, was shoved into the front hall.

Poor Ollie...forced to disrobe in the driveway again! As the weeping French teacher came closer into Becca's view, she saw fresh welts on his ass and thighs, and behind him the Snipe came, "sniping" at Oliver with a branch from the rose bush out front.

Snipe kept a pair of gloves on him, and when he decided to cut off a rose branch to use for thrashing, his hands were well protected...but that was about it.

Becca had gotten her flesh ripped, and Snipe particularly enjoyed slashing the soft skin from her upper thighs...but oh, how sexually intense it was!

Becca could take a hard whipping in silence, as could Chad, but Ollie was a bit of a crybaby, and now he was screaming.

"I had a meeting at school!" Ollie was screaming. He dropped his clothes on the living room floor, and the Snipe twisted Ollie's elbow behind his back and shoved him over the armchair...

Oh, watch him let fly on poor Oliver. WHACK! THWACK! The thorns must've really stung.

"When (WHACK! SLASH!)will you learn, you (WHACK! SLASH!)must text(WHACK! SLASH!) me?" Snipe said (WHACK! SLASH!)this as he lashed Oliver's bare butt again and again. "You keep (WHACK! SLASH!)forgetting to wake me(WHACK! SLASH!) with my morning (WHACK! SLASH!)blowjob when it's your (WHACK! SLASH!)turn, and then you're(WHACK! SLASH!) always late."

Behind the Snipe came a short kind of thin woman. She'd apparently followed them into the house. Becca wondered if she should cover up.

"Don't worry" Chad whispered. "She's in the scene. I've seen her at the Suede Factory."

Finally Snipe pointed, and Oliver, sobbing, went over to kneel next to Chad. Becca noticed that Oliver's penis was rock hard and streaming pre-cum, although his behind looked terribly massacred.

"Kids, this is Enid. I know I'm not in charge of finding roommates, but Enid is very interested in being a part of the group...she'll pay!"

Snipe smiled at Enid, and snapped his fingers, and she stripped naked, trembling.

Becca was pleased to see that Enid had tiny, bee sting breasts and was rather homely. Becca enjoyed being the only woman in the house, but it would be nice to have someone putting in for rent and Snipe's monthly tribute.

"Should we say yes?" Chad whispered to Becca. "It is our lease, after all."

But, as Becca watched Snipe grab Enid by the right nipple, pulling her close and unzipping his pants, she had a good feeling...and look! Enid drinks piss, too!

Master Snipe...what a genius! Where did he COME from?