Swear To God Chapter 2
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"Swear To God" Chapter 6 free porn video
Pantied I was to dispense of my part, comb it straight back after substituting Vitalis with Brylcreem.
"Boy, it's right here for when Miss comes."
She'd showed me. Twixt visits I'd secretly do the substitution, look at it in the mirrors, then shower it out before Girl arrived home from work.
My hands shook as I worked it in, then hard brushed it thru. We'd put in special lighting and it helped.
One morning I'd spied her looking at her bottom with the same hour glass hand mirror as I held now. We'd found it at an area swap meet.
"It's antique, boy, let's get it."
She was naked, white and gleaming. She angled it one way to the wall of mirrors in her bathroom. Then changed the angle, back and forth, up and down, around and around she moved, her face impassive, eye lashes extended, at the last freezing her body in place as I backed away from my vantage point.
I possessed that antique mirror now. I wasn't as adept at angling it-though the reflection of pink panties and near jet black hair was amazing.
"Boy!"
"Man, you're getting her pissed!" I chided myself, aloud, everything was aloud now.
"Goddamn lunatic."
I snatched up her belt.
"Let's go."
I was not permitted to make eye contact.
I'd been told: "Cast your eyes to the floor."
It's laid out as follows: Master Bedroom, master bath, laundry room, back patio doors, kitchen, living room, spare bedroom and bath. Straight shot, 80'x14'.
I would try and get a quick look as I passed into the kitchen. There was a five foot square opening in the wall twixt that kitchen and living room. I would level my head and try and catch her, but, it was very difficult. Just a glance. Had on the same black stretch pants and that same gray sweatshirt. And the glasses. Large frames. I'd searched that house top to bottom after Girl left for work and could not find those damn glasses. She didn't wear glasses. It was the only article she'd donned that appealed to me aside from the adorable pink tennis shoes Miss wore, mostly for traction. They were so sweet. I wanted to be on top with Miss's legs spread wide at matching and precise angles with those pink tennis shoes on. I wanted to love Miss and have Miss love me. Alas, those shoes too I searched for in vain. And that sweatshirt. I'd wondered what she was hiding under there. I wanted to know.
"You dummy, you, it's Girl, she's got the same damn thing."
"I know, I know, but, I want to see them."
"Cully's not a tit man," rang thru my gourd. Maybe I could be a tit man with Miss.
I faced the carpeting as I cut the corner. Everything at sharp angles and levels.
"You bend over correctly, so that you're straight up and straight over. Brace yourself on the edge of the couch, fingers straight out, thumbs straight down. Keep that pantied bottom on the corner, edged properly. Do not raise it for any reason whatsoever. Be-not-proud. I pull the panties down. That is my province, mine and mine alone. I do not pull the panties up. That is your responsibility. And it's not pannies. It is panties, the 't' is present. You will account for that 't' and not overly so, Cully, or, you will be punished."
A slight pause---then on to the end that first day:
"You'll learn as we go. I will teach you through discipline and of course the tried and true method; corporal punishment. Yes, here we utilize the belt and I will spare it not at all."
Girl wouldn't spank me. No.
"No, Cully, I'm not doing that. We'll get somebody." She raised her from hell.
"My belt." I handed it over.
"Bend over. Feet at shoulder width, plant them."
She'd attach a spreader bar to my ankles then. Girl got it somewhere and gave it to her.
She'd always smack the couch cushions a couple good ones before the interrogation went forward. Today was no different.
"Thwack!" Three times.
"Goddamn lunatic, you." To-my-self.
"You want to watch, is this correct?"
"What?" And I knew better.
She slashed me twice. Hard ones. The tears were ready. I needed a good cry and it was coming.
"I ask the questions."
The reason why only she pulled the panTies down was because once down I couldn't get them back up in the state I was in. So, once down I was in trouble. Difference was welts, or, no welts.
"You want to watch, is this correct?"
That nasty, superior, impatient tone, yes, that I lived for, but still indicated I was beneath her contempt. Only doing this because she'd been asked to.
"Yes, Miss."
She knew.
"Of course she knows, she's Girl!"
"I know, I know. Leave me alone, I'm trying to survive, not make sense of this."
"Have you been leaving open magazines; bookmarked at articles, letters, and materiel about this activity and your proclivity to and for it?"
Oh, my God, she knows.
The magazines were never disturbed. I figured she hadn't seen them. And I'd left so many.
"Oh-my-Lord."
"Thwack!" In my panic I'd failed to answer.
"Yes, Miss, I did that."
"You'll offer no interference, resistance, or, complaint, also-known-as whining about this activity. Is this correct?"
"Yes, that is correct."
"If you change your mind, or, experience any questions, comments or concerns about this activity you will bring same to Girl's attention at the first opportunity?"
I still hadn't learned.
"Can you give that one to me again?" I was asking for it, yes, but, there was some dichotomy twixt the last two queries.
My bottom was immediately reddened and my panTies pulled down toot sweet after the reddening. I didn't care. I wanted them down. I wanted my bottom heated. The end was near.
"If it becomes a problem you will speak up, in private with Katie-Girl?"
Just a trace of laughter. Laughing at me. I loved Miss.
"Yes, I will."
"There's more, but, Girl requested that I curtail this classroom session as she has many duties to perform before your house guest arrives on the morrow."
I was grateful. She usually hounded me about menstrual cycles, childbirth, what-not.
"How would you like to have a week of headaches, body aches and bleeding from your cock once a month? You couldn't stand it. Or, a football being pulled from your asshole, you asshole?"
I wasn't up to it this time with Tommy coming, on the morrow.
It was Crescendo time. My word. Hers: "Brace."
Rule Number One: real tears, not fake. And it was strictly enforced. I'd failed once. And I never failed again.
Rule Number Two: obey all rules.
Miss re positioned those adorable pink tennis shoes, spread them out to her advantage.
"Brace!"
The tears came easily---I craved them. I needed to eclipse that level of pain where pleasure would imminently follow. Where the tendrils of nerve endings would activate in the farthest cadres of my physiology. The pleasure then would catch fire, radiate and sustain for days, if not a week, or, more. A loving warmth.
Crescendo was akin, just to an inane comparison that sequence "Raging Bull" where LaMotta lets Robinson in.
"C'mon, what are you waiting for, Ray? C'mon!!!"
I'd let Miss in.
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It was quiet now. Just a bit of gathering as Miss released the spreader, took that and the belt and left the room. Not a word was spoken. I kept my eyes shut. It wasn't a rule, but, I didn't want to see being seen. Not now. Not her. I removed the panties, checked the gusset, satisfied I folded them neatly, then spread my favorite quilt open on the couch, laid down and facing the back awaited Girl.
A kind of shock would envelope me in the aftermath of Miss visits. Like when somebody on TV gets the living daylights beat out of them-they're in shock. For me it was refreshing, an epiphany would take place. A renewal, if you will. A liberating cloak would cover me. Of course I knew that Girl was on her way and she'd be, well, everything. Aside from the Crescendo and in some ways even better was the arrival of Katie-Girl. It was in truth my favorite part. Miss was gone, she never loitered the premises. I'd imagine the patio door sliding and then sliding again. Miss stepping down into the back yard and then descending the steep incline thru the woods beyond.
"Oh-my-goodness, Cully! My little Cully-boy, my little boy."
The descending roll-call the exact same each time, till finally I was just a little boy again.
There is a part in The Wild Bunch where the Bunch is visiting the ancestral village of "Angel" a "Bunch" member.
"Don Jose'," village patriarch:
"Not so hard. We all dream of being a child again, even the worst of us... perhaps the worst most of all."
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She'd come prepared with facial tissue, etc.. Wiped my tears, held fast as I blew my snout, then unscrewed her trusty jar of aloe vera lotion.
"On your tummy, Cully-boy."
Almost a sizzle could be heard when she applied the cool green ointment to my well done buns.
"That feels so good, Girl."
"Just relax, baby-boy."
As she was treating my over heated rump my mind wandered to the interrogation I'd just undergone by Miss. I quickly reflected on a number of instances where Girl had been kissed by other men. The beating had indeed cleared my mind.
Yes, I was pleased Miss had ferreted out my discovery of "watching". I had done all the things that Miss accused me of. I didn't want to approach Girl, though upon reflection there'd been signs pretty much all along the line; stolen kisses in in-flight elevator cars at the office.
"It happened so quick, honey, I didn't realize until it was too late. I think Paul waited until he could board and we'd be alone. But, nothing happened, I swear to God."
Kisses in the lounge anti rooms on Fridays.
"Paul put his hand on the wall, kind of blocking me from getting away. So it just happened. But, nothing happened, I swear to God."
"When I turned around from using the pay phone to call you so you'd know I'd be late Paul was just there. And we kissed. But, nothing happened. I swear to God."
Opened mouthed kisses on the disco floor at a place in the Old Market area of a Saturday night.
"We asked you if I could dance with him and you said it would be okay. The music was hot, but, nothing happened."
She didn't have to swear to God on that instance. We'd left and coupled in the underground parking garage like two animals. She was uncontrollable.
"He was so cute, Cully. His name was Mark."
There were more, but, she swore up and down that "nothing happened." I put her under the "Swear to God" protocol and she swore to it each and every time.
And another one: in a pinball emporium in the same Old Market District. She'd kissed the owner in the change room in the back. She'd gotten a part time job on weekends. Pay and I'd play all the machines for free. He also owned, well his mom and dad owned it: Casio's Steak House down by the stock yards on 24th St. Yeah, Joe, Joe Casio.
"He said he got lost in my eyes. But, nothing happened. I swear to God, honey."
It was coming back to me one case after another. Casio also owned that Disco where "Mark" had kissed her. It occurred to me that evening that incident took place she wasn't real keen in going there.
"Let's just go to Gizmo's so you can play some pinball. I'll watch you."
I hadn't been banned from there yet, I knew that for certain. Now it came back clear, the beating I'd just undergone had cleared the cobwebs!
"No, let's see if Joe is there. Say hi."
We'd walk up to his joint. The entrance was beneath street level. I looked down from the railing at the sidewalk above; you could see right into the place. Joe was behind the bar, and Girl, she was lagging behind, had turned loose of my hand. The look on that wop's face. I didn't think anything of it at that moment, but, I looked behind to see where she'd gotten to and she had the same look on her mug. "Hand in the cookie jar" look.
"Why didn't you realize that?"
"But, she'd been sworn on the smooch in the change room."
"Did you make her swear on the entire time frame?"
"Christ, no."
She scored my crevice once, twice, I plowed thru the third insinuation of her index finger as it brushed across my knot.
"I'm going to lubricate this, Cully."
I believe it was her index finger.
"God, you're a tight ass." She giggled.
I could feel my spunk begin to stir. The beating, the anal penetration, her voice, that giggle, the rush of remembrances.
She ran it in and out several times.
"I'm going to blow you, boy. I'm going to leave my finger buried in your hole and I'm going to suck your stuff from your balls straight into my tummy. You deserve a treat. You've been a good boy, a good Cully-boy."
The knuckle head I was at once laid off the remembrances and made the decision to let her off the hook about swallowing my essence. I hadn't cum in about a week. God only knew what was stored in my overloaded and most likely tainted Cowper's Gland. No, I couldn't do that to her even though I finally figured out why I was driven to watch. She'd driven me there.
Oh, and another case crested my keened consciousness:
In the Belle Bowl one Saturday afternoon. We had our balls stored there in those little lockers. It was our home alley if you will.
"I was kind of trapped between the two rows of lockers, that little aisle area over there. Remember? He was getting his bowling ball out at the same time I was getting our balls out. Remember, you sent me to get both balls because you wanted to play pinball. Remember? He kissed me. I should have dropped your sixteen pounder on his foot, that would've fixed his wagon, huh, Cul?"
Again, since I was there nothing happened, but, she'd told me while we were bowling, not when the kiss took place.
"I didn't want to tell you until he left. He's gone, Cully."
We both agreed it was better just to leave, go home and talk about it.
"You were so upset. Remember what happened?"
Yeah, she was incredibly wet when she sat on my face. And then wouldn't kiss me when she got off. Yeah, I remembered.
She tapped my prostate gland. "Feels good, doesn't it, Cully-boy? Cully's no-no secret place. Once more for good luck." A firmer tap. We had a coffee table book on human anatomy. Girl knew whence she tapped.
"Please, Girl."
"I'm going to take it out, get you situated on your back and then I'll re-insert it, nice and deep. Real deep. But, only one finger, Cully. You're too much a tight ass to get two in there."
She ran her nails across the bottoms of my feet.
I squealed.
"I should tickle you to orgasm sometime."
Her pattern of indiscretions could wait. I turned over. My roasted bottom on fire.
"Cully! My goodness, look at your boner." She giggled again.
"Don't you worry, mama is going to take care of that for her little Cully-boy."
I couldn't let her do it.
"Girl, you'd better not swallow. I haven't cum in about a week. With all the craziness going on and you being... with... well... there is going to be too much and it'll be thick and gross. It's okay, just let it go. Alright?"
"Cully, that's so kind of you. Thank you, darling. Next time then, I promise. Now, lay back and relax. Since you've been a good boy. I'll be a good girl and use two fingers, tight ass, or not. Draw your knees up close, baby."
I obeyed.
"That-a-boy." She tinged her tone with baby-talk.
"Girl promises not to squeeze too hard, but, I'm going to hold your sack in one hand, and do it to that ass with the other. Once you release I'll turn loose your bag and steer the jet."
"Please, Girl, finish it. God help me!"
I squeezed my eyes shut. And who should appear but that damn Miss. I wanted to follow her into that dark forest and see what was under that sweat shirt. Did she have a bra on under there, or were her breasts bare, those perfect nipples rubbing up against that soft flannel on the inside of that sweat shirt? I'd eat her pink tennis shoes right off her bare feet. No socks to a Crescendo? Break her glasses so she couldn't tease me anymore with them. Then apologize and beg her forgiveness for breaking them.
Girl was squeezing too hard on my testicles. I wanted her to squeeze harder.
I peeked as she licked a fresh finger and shoved both fingers in one directed drive.
It was too full and I felt the lid flip over. Hot lava. Nothing was going to stop it.
"My-Cully-boy." That-was-it.
She caught me peeking, pursed her lips once then twice before engulfing my cock. She'd lost her tonsils as a child.
"That's weird that you still have yours, Cully."
We were face-to-face, in my basement with my Tudor Electric Football Game on the counter, mother and dad upstairs.
Dad: "Cully! Be nice to her now. She's your guest."
"Yeah, don't hit me with a snowball again, Cully, you mean boy, you."
She teased. Those hazel eyes, with specks of dark gold.
I hit her uvula and don't remember much thereafter. Just the cool air after she pulled it back through the hot velvet of her mouth.
(to be continued)
Eisley
- 28.10.2022
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