Part 4 - Revenge
My boyfriend is pleading with my daughter, and I don’t blame him really. But it is all his fault. He did suggest that it would be a real change in our fun and games if we let Emma be the domme over both of us. Make a change he said, for us not to have to take turns. Let’s both get down our knees he suggested, and let her take charge for a change. And Emma being an adult with a bright and inventive mind jumped at the chance.
OK, now I won’t pretend that the thought of getting down and dirty with my boyfriend under a common whip didn’t make me all damp and horny down below, and the ensuing romp probably clouded my judgement somewhat when I agreed to it. You see, we had only recently taken the opportunity of getting our own back on the foxy young minx through the thorough use of a rather invasive feather duster, and I think she was only too pleased to have the chance to be getting her own back on us. Which is how we came to be where we are now.
My boyfriend is a big, strapping man, with a generous manhood to match his build. And right now he is pleading with Emma, a tiny little thing with a chest that would not be out of place on page three. Long red hair rolling down her back, and a figure tightly squeezed into a pvc basque that lifts and presses those big, milky white tits of her up into a cleavage that had to be seen to be believed. Her tight little arse is sheathed in a matching pair of spray-on PVC hotpants, and her smoothly muscled legs are pressed into a pair of spike heeled boots that complete the look. God, if she hadn’t been my daughter she would have made me horny, let alone my boyfriend.
Now. My boyfriend currently only has his voice still available to him as Emma has him in chains. I dread to think where she has been shopping, but they were a proper set of chains, and among all the coy looks, the flashing of vast areas of flesh and twitting laugher he let her put them on him, and now he is pleading with her. Quite naked before her on that concrete cellar floor.
You see, he is chained to the floor, on all fours, those very permanent and lockable manacles locked to some immoveable steel rings cemented into the floor. They have been there for years, and we never wondered why they were there. Maybe Emma has inadvertently discovered something about the last residents, who knows. But she has certainly put them to good use.
You see, they spread his wrists and ankles just that little bit too far to be absolutely comfortable. Making him bend like and animal at bay, his body near the ground. And with his manhood already straining with lust, Emma has introduced him to her new toy. And it sounds like a classic. And my boyfriend is absolutely desperate not to have it applied to him. He really is pleading for mercy. Some hopes of success my love. I think you have this coming.
She is holding up the clear plastic tube-like end of a farm milking machine, which still has the milking tube attached.
“I bought this at a farm sale” she tells him sweetly “I have just made a few modifications to make it more fun” He went white “Fun for me at least” she added “I don’t think you are going to like it one bit. At least, not after a while”
She lent closer to show him the interior of that evil looking plastic tube. She had added some shaped padded ridges to the interior.
“When I slip this little toy over your dick” she said softly “it will take quite a firm grasp of you. A grasp just tight enough to ensure you keep your erection. In fact, I fully expect you to swell and get turned on so much you will simply be unable to remove it. Even if you had the use of your hands, which you don’t of course. And especially after I throw that switch over there” And she gestured towards the switch on the side of a large glass jar that bespoke unpleasantly of suction. “And once I throw that switch, the sucking will start. But don’t worry, I have made sure it won’t be strong enough to do you any harm. I know better than that. But I have made a very interesting modification to the apparatus. Instead of a single long suck, it will now pulse. A steady, rhythmic pulse that will jerk this tube up and down on your poor little dick until you come”
The room was silent until Emma spoke again. “But that’s not the worst of it. You see, I don’t intend to turn it off when you have come. I intend to leave it running until you come again. And maybe a third time, I haven’t decided just yet.”
And it was then my boyfriend started to plead for mercy. A foolish thing I reckon, but I suppose he had to try. And he pulled desperately at his chains as she knelt down beside him and popped a kiss on his cheek before reaching under him with that evil plastic cylinder. Her hand pressed briefly yet firmly against his heaving back as he made a racket pulling oh so desperately at those chains, then he howled as the other hand pressed swiftly upwards, burying his manhood in the tube.
Just as the evil little minx predicted, his manhood responded to the firm grasp of those rings of padding and swelled into place. And Emma laughed as he whimpered in sheer frustration as she stood up and swung one leg over is back, grasping his hips firmly between her legs. Then she reached out and gathered up a bundle of leather straps from a table and let them drape softly across his shoulders. At the caress of that handful of leather he arched his back as best he could and made a small sound of pleasure, and before his lips were together again Emma had rolled the harness swiftly round his face and fastened the vital straps to keep a wide rubber bit between his teeth and render him helpless and silent. As he tried to shake off the harness she fastened the other straps, and in moments his head was wrapped in a cunning human bridle that rendered him near mute and thoroughly at her mercy.
Normally I would have gone to his aid, but I’m way over here. Spreadeagled between two stout wooden pillars in an unpleasantly wide stretch. It wasn’t so bad when Emma first put me here, adding ropes and a collar while my boyfriend looked on open mouthed with lust, but the little bitch didn’t just use rope to fix the cuffs. Oh no, she fixed them up with thick camping elastic. Strong bungee style straps with big hooks on each end. And the more I relaxed, or the tireder I got, the tighter they pulled me. And once you allow your arms to be stretched beyond a certain point, there is no pulling them back. So what started feeling like a playful spread soon becomes uncomfortably tight. And now, after some time, I am really tightly spread, by arms dragged towards the ceiling, my feet fast approaching the poles. And there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Oh sure, I can pull the elastic back a bit, but the moment I relax I just get jerked back out tight. And after a few attempts, you just give up and hang there. Helpless and spread. Wondering what is going to happen next.
And she has left me something to think about while I stand here fighting the tension. Well, two things to be precise. Two of the most evil looking nipple clamps I have ever seen. Or felt. With tiny metal points on the pads to really keep the attention. And they are doing that just fine.
Dragging my mind away from my own troubles, I watched as Emma stalked away from my boyfriend and draped herself about that converted milking pump, rubbing her body up against it in a most shameful, wanton way while he watched her with eyes filled with dread. She gently breathed “Have fun” before flicking that switch and the machine gurgled into life.
From where I was pinned I could just see the end of the device where it vanished up between his legs, and it started to jerk rhythmically on the air. My boyfriend jerked back his head as the device started it’s evil work, and I heard a whimper force it’s way out past his bitted lips. A tone of whimper I knew all too well from the many times I had taken him in hand over the years. A whimper of cowed lust and torment, part pleasure, and part distress as that evil machine milked away. Whatever Emma had designed into that device, she had got it exactly right, and was going to do exactly what she said it would do. Drive my boyfriend mad.
She came over to me and slipped her arm around my waist, a big smile of her face as she reached round and gently pulled the chains on those nasty little clamps. And I yelped like hell, but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of begging for mercy. They stung like hell, but I knew there would be worse to come when they came off and the circulation came back. So far she had spared me a gag, but I had a nasty feel that come the end I would wish she hadn’t.
“Doesn’t he look grand” she said, still toying idly with those damned nipple clamp chains “I can see why you fancy him” And as we watched, he started the thrust with his hips, something he always did when I had him tied and started to milk him. Only this time it was a pure reflex reaction. There was no warm hand to thrust himself through, no carefully cored apple, just that plastic tube jerking repeatedly at his raging manhood.
The moment came soon, which didn’t surprise me. He threw back his head and let out a half human howl as he came. The machine swiftly sucked away his cum, and he slumped as loose in his chains as he could, but that evil machine carried on it’s mechanised evil wanking action, the padding holding him firmly at attention.
I glanced left and saw Emma’s eyes wide with wonder, and saw her nipples peak hard over the top of that wonderful basque as the scene turned the little bitch on. “Come on” she breathed “Lets have number two”
She swept away from me stood by my boyfriend, now soaked in sweat and making inarticulate sounds through his harness that might have been the words ‘please’, but Emma was having none of it. She stalked over to the machine and flicked the switch to it’s next position, and I could see the motion of the tube speed up, pumping his already tender organ faster and firmer while he moaned in anguish.
The second cuming came far sooner than I had expected, and I called to Emma to stop when she exclaimed there was only 1 more to go, and then she would turn that machine off and let him go. I could see him looking up at her with tear filled eyes, shaking his head in denial. She knelt down in front of him and lifted her already straining breasts with her palms, pressing those acres of smooth flesh into his face, rubbing them back and forth.
“You like my tits, don’t you ?” she asked softly “Well, if you are a really good boy, I might let you wank yourself with them one day. Do you like the sound of that ?. Me all tied up while you make use of my body for your own pleasure ?. And all you have to do is come again. Is that really that hard ?”
The third orgasm reduced him to tears. Really as well as metaphorically. He would have slumped to the floor has his chains allowed it, and as good as her twisted little word Emma snapped off the machine and allowed the plastic tube to fall to the floor.
As she released my boyfriend and allowed him away, she turned to me with a smile on her face and the tube in her hands saying, “Now it’s your turn mum”
She pulled at the tube, and the machine wheeled it’s way over to me where I had no way of getting away from it. The elastic still held me drum-tight between those pillars. Emma reached down and produced a second pair of tubes. These much smaller than the one she had used on my boyfriend, and they sported greased ends as if designed to grip something smooth. She rattled the nipple clamps absently, and offered that pair of tubes up to my already tender nipples. Then she smiled at me. Now it was my turn to plead.
25.11.06
story continues in My Daughter & I Raise the Stakes
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