tagBDSMStormy Surprise Ch. 02

Stormy Surprise Ch. 02


The two lovely ladies stepped up to me, as I stood, cock swaying stiffly from my groin, in the torture chamber. Karen, at 45, was 15 years my senior, while her daughter, Sharon, my girlfriend, was 20.

I drank in their beauty. Both had lovely brown hair, both had lush 38-inch breasts, and while Karen was slightly thicker around the waist than her daughter, both had almost matching magnificent buttocks. Both were semi-shaved at their pussies.

"As I was saying to Kevin, earlier this afternoon, darling," said the mother, "what really excites the submissive, slave, call him what you will, is the anticipation before a session."

"You mean he gets excited merely thinking about it?" said Sharon, who I had been fucking for a month since I met her in the Bangor, Maine, bookstore where she works.

"Precisely," said her mother. "Do you know the sound that most excites a slave?"

Sharon shook her head.

Karen smiled: "Even Kevin may not know, but if he thinks about it, he can work it out. It's not the sound as the flogger whistles through the air before it lands on his flesh.

"That doesn't excite the slave as much as it excites his dominatrix, because he knows it's going to hurt, so it will excite her more than it does him.

"No, it's not the sound of the whip. It's the sound of a domina's high heels or boots clip-clopping along the floor as she nears the torture chamber where he's waiting for her arrival.

"What's she going to be wearing today? Will she be naked? Will she be in erotic lingerie? Leather? Rubber? PVC?

"What's she going to do to me today? Whip me? Torture my balls? Piss on me? Allow me to worship her pussy? Or her anus? What is going to happen to me?"

"And so everything after that is an anti-climax, mom?" asked my girlfriend.

"Oh, no, far from it," said Karen, stroking my hard-on. "Nothing can match the slave's eager anticipation of what a session will hold for him, but after her arrival, the domina must do her utmost to live up to his masochistic expectations.

"And that's where we come in. A two-domina session is one of the most rewarding a slave can undergo. Have you ever had one, Kevvy-wevvy?"

"No, Karen," I replied, honestly, "but it's always something I've dreamed about."

She smiled at me, still stroking my raging erection. "Well, we'll have to do our best to see that the reality can live up to the dreams, won't we?"

Then Karen snapped "On your back, Kevin" and I quickly lowered myself to the floor and lay, arms by my sides, ankles pressed together.

Karen then picked up the rubber flogger she had used on me earlier in the afternoon. "Sit on his face, darling," she told her daughter.

"Which way, mom," asked Sharon, "facing away from his cock or towards it?"

"Towards it, darling," said her mother, "because you'll want to watch what I do as he performs his oral adoration."

Sharon then lowered her pussy to my mouth, her knees on either side of my torso. Karen then used one booted foot to kick my legs, indicating I should spread myself.

"Now you will start your work, Kevin," I heard her mother announce, "and as you work there at this most pleasant of tasks, I will be flogging your cock and balls. This flogging will go on until you have given my dear daughter an orgasm, so the quicker you bring her off, the better for you."

I flashed my tongue onto Sharon's weeping cunt, then licked her lovely large labia lips, then attacked her clit, then roamed around her entire aromatic snatch, licking and sucking as I felt the stinging slaps of the flogger entwine around my balls and rapidly limpening cock.

Sharon helped me by moving herself up and down along my face, and soon she was panting her way to a noisy climax.

"Yes, yes, Kevin, yes, I'm coming, flog him faster, mom, flog him faster," she called out before collapsing off to one side after her orgasm hit and then started to subside.

Karen ceased her flagellation frenzy on my tormented cock and balls, and walked over to one of the chamber's two easy chairs. Sitting down on the black leather, she placed her booted legs wide, her thighs across the arms of the chair.

"Now I'd like another orgasm, Kev," she ordered. "Crawl over and get to work. Sharon, when he starts his worship, start flogging his shoulder blades – not too hard, but enough to make him feel the stinging."

I crawled towards my target, a slightly larger but no less aromatic area than that I had just finished laving to climax only a few moments before. As I pressed my tongue and mouth on her pussy, Karen called out: "Get that whip working, Sharon!"

And I heard the hiss of the rubber, then its sting as it struck home, while my mouth was concentrating on bringing Karen off.

The sound of thunder rumbled faintly in the distance, the rain was pouting down, but all I could hear was the hissing of the flogger as Sharon wielded it in broad brush strokes across my bare back, as I laved away at her mother's demanding minge.

Some minutes into my work, Karen began to moan out, then called: "He's got me, Sharon, he's got me, whip him harder, harder, harder!" And as I brought her mother to a crashing climax, Sharon was smacking the rubber whip down in a steady tattoo on my back.

"Stop!" called Karen, "I've come."

And the whip ceased its attentions on my stinging, smarting flesh.

I pulled my face away, panting in exhaustion, not only from my adoration of Karen's pulsating pussy, but also from the whipping her daughter had inflicted on me.

"Now it's time for the spreader bar and the yoke, again, my dear Kevin," Karen told me. "Be a sweetheart and fetch them for me, will you?"

I walked gingerly to the equipment section and brought the spreader bar and yoke to the middle of the torture chamber.

After Karen and Sharon had fitted me into the two implements of bondage, Karen started stroking my penis and addressed my girlfriend.

"The important thing in a two-domme session, my darling, is that both women should be involved in each individual punishment during the entertainment.

"It can sometimes get a bit busy, but done properly it will keep the slave in a constant state of arousal. And that's what we're going to do now."

Karen then pulled the large leather ottoman towards my position. Sitting on it, she planted a sweet little kiss on my stiffening prick.

"Now, Sharon," said her mother, "you can have a go at his lovely buns – they are nice, aren't they?"

Sharon agreed: "One of the prettiest bottoms I've ever seen, mom." She then selected a single-stranded lash and brought it to my mouth. "Kiss it nicely," she ordered, placing the coolness of the leather against my lips.

I planted a kiss on the implement, and Sharon smiled at me before walking behind me and laying the coolness this time against my buttocks.

"When my mouth starts to suck on his cock, Kev will say 'Please begin, Sharon' and you can start laying into him," said Karen, from her position in front of my erection.

I felt her mouth surround my helmet and, as ordered, called out: "Please begin, Sharon."

The lash struck home, no longer cool to the touch, but sending a flash of warmth through my buttocks as it bit into my flesh. Then again, Sharon was wasting no time!

Her mother's mouth was soft and warm on my hardness and soon I was trying to thrust my hips forward as the lash cracked home on my buttocks. After about a dozen strokes, I was managing to anticipate Sharon's blows and coincide them with my push forward into her mother's mouth.

Then, of course, I started to feel the surge as my climax neared. Not aware of whether I was allowed to ejaculate or not, I called out a warning: "Oh fuck, Karen, I'm fucking close to coming, what can I do? Can I come, please, let me come!"

But the 45-year-old pulled off me and patted my erection with the palm of her hand. "Sorry, sweetie," she said, smiling up at my arching body, as Sharon still burned the lash into my buttocks, "I'm only here in an advisory and supporting capacity. Fucking yes, but swallowing no. For an ejaculation, we'll have to change places."

And then the busty brunette stood and indicated to her daughter that she should take her place on the ottoman. Sharon sat down and Karen was obviously inspecting my now-burning bottom.

"He's pretty well striped here, darling," said Karen, "so I think I'll switch to the rubber flogger. It'll still sting him, but not mark him so much."

Karen picked up the rubber flogger and let its lashes rub over my burnt buttocks. "When your lovely little lady starts her sucking, you call out 'Please begin, Karen', understood?" she told me.

My young girlfriend's mouth sucked sweetly on my cock and I came out with the call for Karen to resume the flagellation of my buns. The rubber flogger was nowhere near as strict as the single-stranded lash and soon I had established a steady tempo of driving my prick into Sharon's mouth with each caress of the rubber.

Inevitably, of course, my ejaculation again began surge through my loins and again I came out with my oral warning: "Sharon, I'm close, very close, can I please come, please?"

The answer, as you would have expected was in the negative, as Sharon's mouth, like her mother's before her, disengaged from its erotic attention to my hard-on.

"Oh God," I moaned, "I was so close."

Sharon giggled: "But so far, darling."

"Time to add some weight to the process," said Karen, and I knew what that meant – cock and ball torture, as if I hadn't been through enough, already!

Karen then brought a red rubber parachute device from the equipment pile and opened it at is neck and snapped it over my scrotum. As the rubber grabbed my balls in its tight embrace, I felt a myriad of little pinpricks dig into my flesh there.

From the bottom of the parachute hung two long, thin strands of twine. The end of one was tied by Karen around the big toe on my right foot, while Sharon similarly adjusted the other length around my other big toe. This served to intensely increase the pricking going on in my balls.

Karen then fetched a tiny, eight-inch long strip of leather. "Let's see if he can come during the attentions of the penis whip, Sharon, shall we?" she asked her daughter.

"Take his cock in your mouth, just go down to that nice thick ring," said Karen. "Then fellate him, up to his cock tip, then down to his ring, and so on, while I work on his shaft. I think he'll like it, don't you?"

"I wouldn't bet on it, mom," Sharon laughed and then placed her beautiful cock-sucking mouth on the head of my erection.

Standing close to myself and Sharon seated on the ottoman, Karen then cracked the short little penis punisher across my shaft as her daughter sucked on the top inch or so of my hard-on.

"Ouch," I yelled.

My cry, of course, fell on deaf ears – or, rather, uncaring ears. "Oh hush up, anyone would think I was hurting you," said Karen, aiming another blow at my cock shaft. "Errrgh," I grunted as the tiny little lash bit home.

Then Sharon increased the pace of her fellatio. Karen, in turn, increased the tempo of her cock whipping and soon I was thrusting around, inflicting more pain on my balls through the fiendish red rubber parachute, as Karen tortured my cock.

Suddenly I felt a sudden release, the pain was still there in my balls, the stinging on my cock shaft, but there was an irresistible flow from my agonised balls and a strong spurt of semen sped through my shaft and into Sharon's mouth.

She sucked harder, I gave her another spurt, then another, and finally a weaker, almost non-existent dribble oozed from my cock and I was done.

Karen straightened up and smiled sweetly at me. "There," she grinned, "who's a good boy, then?" And she placed a warm, tender, open-mouth kiss on my lips.

I felt Sharon untying the cords that were attached to my toes, then removing the wicked rubber parachute.

Karen, meanwhile, freed me from the yoke, then the spreader bar, before stepping into my arms and giving me an almost sisterly cuddle.

She then kissed me, in a most unsisterly-like manner, and turned to Sharon.

"God, I love these stormy afternoons," she told her.

"They're just perfect for taking a slave down to the torture chamber and playing with him."

"The games room, mom," said Sharon.

"No, darl," said her mom. "I think you'll find it's the torture chamber from now on, eh, Kev?"

My buttocks and back were burning, my balls were aching with the pain, but my cock was triumphant in its relief.

"Yes, Sharon, I think your mom's right," I said. "I guess from now on it's the torture chamber."


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