The Colonel's Chastity Tales
June 2018 Stories
BIBBS JUST CAN'T GET A BREAK
Bibbit Smithers, Senior wondered why he was spending an expensive week at the Thumbscrew Lodge. Bibbs had had his ass kicked by his older brother, "Smitty" which you would think would have been bullying enough, right?
And, Bibbs, no jock, had been charged with handing out towels to the athletic teams as his Work/Study job at Amherst, and the jocks had all enjoyed flicking the wet rags at poor Bibbs, and horse playing with him in the shower room.
Things had changed, and he thought he was happily away from the bullies now.
After all, the so-called "nerds" and "Geeks" and "Dorks" were men with brains, and those who ran the country, right?
Bibbs was fairly well off now, and left a tenured professorship in microbiology to start what was now hthe largest paper cup distributorship in the state, and was a big mouth in the Buttermilk Falls Chamber of Commerce now.
Aspen, Bibbs's fiancΓ©e, had told Bibbs time and again that size didn't matter, he had a nice penis, and if he couldn't stop the premature ejaculation, he was a nice man to cuddle with.
But Bibbs had dated other women who laughed at his little dick and made all sorts of cruel remarks.
His first wife, Trendi had often asked sarcastically "Is it in yet?"
Brioche, Bibbs's second wife had usually locked herself in the bedroom with a vibrator to get her orgasms...
But Aspen loved him, and he was a successful chap, and tutored inner-city chess champions.
Bibbs had arrived. Why would he go to the trouble of coming to Thumbscrew Lodge to be belittled and sexually sodomized by thugs, big, tough, gay male prostitutes...and paying for it?
Now, Bibbit was tentatively walking along a path and saw Peabody Dill, owner of Thumbscrew...
Peeb was stark naked, and pulling a cart with two dominant women and a male coachman in it, all dressed in leather.
The coachman swung a whip, which caught Peabody on the back of the neck and then again against his ass. "Move, it, horsie!"
The girls laughed and the coachman snorted.
Bibbs reflected that although Peabody had a controlling interest in Thumbscrew, and was making a fortune.
Of course Peabody had invested in this so he could serve dominant men and women full time, and had no better status than any of the other slaves, all of whom of course, were paying clients.
"There's the little faggot!" Bibbs looked around fearfully. Four big guys, two wearing absurd Fifties leather jackets, and one in a blue overall. Huge muscles, cigars, tattoos.
Bibbs knew the most interesting thing about this was, Bibbs was (sort) of heterosexual, and these guys were really all gay...but here he was the faggot wimp!
When his trainer had sent him out of the cottage that morning, Bibbs was stark naked except for nipple clamps and high heels.
And now was wearing thick pancake makeup, his penis, all four inches, straining hard.
He was supposed to be the effeminate target of these guys...
Yesterday, they'd tied a rope around his balls and made him run behind a convertible as they drove about five miles per hour...
And then he'd been forced to eat soap chips that evening...
And today, another plague?
But he was asking for it! No one had forced him to come here.
Bibbs had discovered Thumbscrew Lodge from a guy who had been panhandling in front of Bibbs's favorite car wash.
Stretch had told Bibbs that he made a bit of a "living" "using a nail file on Coke machines" but also dominated rich men for occasional profit, and had been fired from Thumbscrew some months before.
Bibbs had driven Stretch from the car wash to his house, where Stretch had tied Bibbs down, sodomized him, stripped him and robbed him...and then Bibbs had gone to Thumbscrew, assuming more of the same.
Now Bibbs was stumbling awkwardly in the mud wearing tranny sized kitten heels. He saw the guys advancing on him.
Bibbs had been given an assignment by his trainer to go in the woods and gather some blueberries in this ridiculous getup.
The guys of course were supposed to intercept and persecute him a bit, probably feeding him their cocks, and whipping him with willow switches, that sort of thing.
Decked out as he was with his earrings, heels and bright pink polish on all twenty of his nails, ..the men were joyfully moving in like sharks on a fat tuna.
"Where you going with that basket, queer?" Leather Jacket #1came close to Bibbs. "Nice earrings, queen."
"Um, I'm just minding my business guys. Got to get these uh, blueberries. I don't want any trouble." But of course Bibbs did want trouble, didn't he?
Bibbs noticed the growing bulge in Leather Jacket #2's 501s...he must have quite a big dick.
Yesterday, Bibbs had been locked in a little cage with a hood over his head and been forced to suck about forty dicks before jerking off...he had no idea if he'd sucked this guy or not.
Bibbs tried hard to placate the leader with the leather jacket, but this guy was looking for a fight.
Bibbs heard a scream and looked behind him and saw Claiborne Altwn IV, his roommate being dragged across a meadow by a chain between his clipped nipples.
The young man who was doing the pulling, a beefy chap with a goatee, or maybe a Van Dyke? stopped to talk to Bibbs's persecutors.
Clay was wearing shorts and a blue sailor suit top, and one of those naval berets, like Donald Duck had.
The blue top was ripped open, and the chain was hanging on Claiborne's exposed nipples, and Clay looked as if he were in a bit of pain.
But, as Claiborne was vice president of a humongous munitions factory just outside Buttermilk Falls, Bibbs kind of figured he was here through paying big bucks, too.
"Please don't whip me, Daddy."
The young man who was "Daddy" and actually about fifteen years younger than Clay, grinned. He had a long bamboo cane in one hand and swished the air with it.
Clay's actual father, the owner of the munitions factory was a bit of a controlling asshole.
Bibbs had seen Claiborne the Third acting up at the Rotary Club, so of course the sailor outfit and the cane, it was all-therapeutic, supposedly.
Not that Clay III had ever raised a hand to Clay IV, but the screaming that had gone on at the Rotary, from dad to son seemed familiar
Bibbs assumed this is what created this neurosis that the Van Dyke beard Master had to somehow medicate...
"Why have you disappointed Daddy, Clay?" The Van Dyke guy boomed.
"Sir I don't know, Sir. Please--I'll be a good boy."
Yes, I've heard Clay Four talk in a similar tone to his father, who was confined in a wheelchair and so much less threatening...
"Son I'm going to have to take you to the woodshed" the Van Dyke master said now.
"Nuh-no. Please Sir, not that."
"I caught you jerking off in one of my socks.
I know you like the scent, but it's offensive that you did this!"
"But not the woodshed, Sir."
The woodshed at Thumbscrew was not very big, but it was where a lot of implements were kept.
The Woodshed even had a pillory where one could be locked, bent over with head and wrists through the holes, and access to the rear end forcibly stuck out!
For whipping or sodomy...or, as Bibbs had seen once, having a target painted on the gluteus maximus, so the Masters and Mistresses could play darts!
Once Bibbs had seen Rosebeth McMillan, a sad-eyed commodities broker locked in the pillory.
Rosebeth's rear end had been the target practice for several Masters and Mistresses with BB guns...
"I didn't ask for your opinion, boy. You're a mouthy little shit, ain't you?" The Van Dyke guy winked at Bibbs's leather guy, winking, and they all laughed.
"Sir, I didn't mean" oh, Clay was whining now.
"You're not going to get the privacy of the woodshed, boy. Take down your britches right now. We'll see who is the big man with the opinions."
Claiborne burst into tears. "P-please, I didn't mean--"
Impatiently, the young bearded guy put the cane under his arm and reached over, undoing Clay's trousers.
He yanked them down, and underneath, Clay was wearing panties, which were also pulled down.
Now Clay's stiff cock was out, although it was encased in a little steel cage. Boy was Clay horny!
The leather guy and his pals were laughing at Clay's panties, and even Bibbs smiled, although he felt he was being disloyal to a fellow submissive.
"Motherfuckers got a garter belt on too!" the blue overall man remarked.
Then Van Dyke commenced operations with the cane.
There was a rustle, and coming out of the woods were two naked, middle aged men, they both had their hands manacled behind their backs.
But what was even more awkward was that there was a metal loop around each man's cock and balls, and a foot long chain connected the two loops.
Bibbs watched in horror as the fellows kind of ambled along, facing each other, as the chain forced them to.
Behind them was a slender woman, perhaps five foot three with a shock of bright red dyed hair.
"Guys!" How's it going?"
"Hey there, Cronyn" shouted the first leather guy.
"You're doing well, huh Turk?"
"Oh yeah." Turk said, grinning." I just have little Blueberry-Blue balls boy here."