Decadence In Buttermilk Falls

That night, when Alf came home from work, Fanchon had a quizzical smile on her face.

"Did you have a good day, dear?" she asked as he took off his jacket.

She knew he was a little irritable because he had to take the bus home—Fanchon commandeered his car during the day...

Ah but he wouldn't complain.

Fanchon kissed Alfred deeply, running her tongue in and out of his mouth.

Alf's cock turned and twisted in his chastity device.

"Take off your clothes, baby." Fanchon whispered, and Alf obeyed rather quickly.

Fanchon locked Alf's wrists behind his back once he was naked, and removed his chastity belt, toying with his long-denied cock.

"Do you regret it yet, honey...that you didn't want to cum this morning, into your Starbucks cup?"

Fanchon's gentle fingers gripped Alf's cock and stroked it into a bulging stiffness as she smiled and gazed into his eyes.

She'd changed into a hot pink tank top and short denim miniskirt, and her cleavage was blossoming into his face...

Yes, he was enraptured by her, as always.

Fanchon kissed Alf's neck as she stroked his cock some more, and he gasped, breathing heavily.

Alf bent his head down and pushed his face into her cleavage, and scenting intense perfume, began kissing the tops of her breasts with some great interest.

He felt his cock getting slick with pre-cum, and Alf pushed his face even closer into her bouncing boobies, before feeling a horrible sting between his thighs.

SLASH! THWACK! SMACK!

Alf pulled back, howling, and noted that Fanchon was now holding a mean looking two foot leather thing, with a nasty tied end.

She slashed it a couple more times across his suffering cock, and Alf squirmed around....

Ah, but of course he couldn't cover his dick, as his hands were manacled behind him!

"Do you like it? It's a cowboy quirt—but it's vegan. instead of leather it's made with neoprene rubber, honey... you're always telling me we need to be more environmentally conscious"

Fanchon slashed him directly between his legs again, and Alf burst into hot tears.

Neoprene rubber or not, the fucking quirt hurt as much as leather ones that Alf had experienced.

But of course his cock was bulging out a little anyway...

Yes, it was so predictable, he was SUCH a submissive.

Hit his dick, and it got excited. It happened all the time to poor Alfred...and he'd started early!

Alf's sister Deanna Marie had discovered his passion for pain when they were in their early twenties.

Deanna Marie would laugh, good naturedly when her older brother would embarrassedly ask for "barn time"...

"It's going to HURT Alfie...you sure you want it...you cried like a little bitch the last time."

It was so horribly embarrassing...

Deanna Marie was the black sheep of the family, always getting in trouble, and her brother was the straight A-Science Fair winner who'd skipped second, fifth and 9th grade...

Yes, but when they were alone...it all changed!

"You sure, honey?" Deanna Marie would say, putting down her "Tiger Beat" magazine.

"I don't want you crying' and whining' like the last time...

Yeah, when you wanted me to stop...you're not going to bitch to me, are you."

Alf would always promise, staring at his baby sister's bubbly tits.

"I-really want it, Deanna Marie ...please? I'll give you money, if you want!"

"I won't cry this time, Deanna Marie...you'll see."

But he knew he would.

No matter what a tough guy he was supposed to be.

And he was Buttermilk County Golden Gloves! Alf knew he was a wussy at heart.

They'd go out to Dad's old milking barn, now empty for 20 years, and Deanna Marie popped her gum, and lounged in her hot little bikini top and cut off shorts.

This while Alf stripped naked and climbed up a ladder to hang a rope on one of the rafters.

Deanna Marie, giggling, would climb behind him and tie his wrists to the rafters, and then go into the yard and cut some long, thick switches from the willow tree.

Then she'd prance back into the barn—Alf

remembered Deanna Marie looked so cute, because with the cut-offs she always wore these leopard satin peep toe pumps that had HIGH heels.

Then Deanna Marie would giggle again, popping her gum, and say "Alfie, you've been such a bad boy!"

First Deanna Marie would concentrate on Alf's bare buttocks and thighs, making the boy scream with pain as she welted them.

At first Alf would bite his lip, resisting crying out as the willow switch landed again and again on his butt cheeks.

He was terribly humiliated that he was actually naked in front of his little sister, and that he was allowing her to hit him with a switch—

Alf kept hoping that if he could prove to her he was a man, and could take the strikes, she might be more um, intimate with him, illegal and immoral as that might be...

But by the fourth or fifth slash, Alf would cry out—

Deanna Marie had a way of hitting that very sensitive area just under his buttocks and above his thighs—sometimes she would tie his ankles together.

Yes and other times she would let his legs bounce around as he tried to move his ass away from the flailing switch.

But he always cried.

Deanna Marie loved telling Alfie what a sissy faggot he was for not being able to take the pain in silence, but he never could—

Yes, it was a damn good thing their parents worked!

But finally Deanna Marie would come around to the front, and survey Alfie's pecker, straining as it was between his legs. This was always the most humiliating part for Alfie...he'd never seen his sister naked, except for peering in the shower a couple of times...but she'd seen HIM quite a bit...

And then they'd begun the whipping games—-and Alfie loved it!

This had started after they both turned 19...after a fairly normal upbringing.

He hated it, but he loved it, and Deanna Marie would begin with light lashes to his bloated penis with the willow switches.

Yes, and then she'd hit his wee wee harder and harder.

Sometimes she'd put Mama's clothespins on Alfie's nipples and his cock and balls and then knock them off.

Or Dee would shove old corn husks from the barn trash cans up Alfie's ass...she was quite imaginative!

And of COURSE she'd stroke his dick a bit with her long red nails, making it stiffen with precum.

OOOZING out...and then she'd whip it some more.

Finally, Alf would begin screaming for her to stop. "Please, Deanna Marie it hurts so much...please don't hit me on my dick anymore...

Oh please untie me now... my wrists are turning purple!"

"Aw no, Alfie, I'm just starting'."

Deanna Marie would laugh as she slashed his dick again and again, breaking four or five willow switches.

"You got to stop being such a little sissy faggot alla time. I thought you was a fuckin' Eagle Scout...can't you learn to man up an' take the fuckin' pain in silence?"

Deanna Marie's aim was deadly too...

She could make the switches slash the tip of Alf's dick, or right in his scrotum...sometimes she'd grasp his balls and squeeze them, and then whack his dick again and again...

But in the end, he remained hard...he couldn't lose the erection in the wake of the whipping!

By the end of the afternoon, Alfie's face would be swollen with tears, and his dick and the rest of his body would be completely marked.

Alfie's tongue would be dry from drooling as he looked at her soft white melons in their little bikini top...the anguish!

Deanna Marie knew that Alf loved staring at her tits, though of course he'd never seen them completely bare.

As she whipped his dick with the willow with one hand, she'd play with her boob in the little bikini top with the other...

During the winter, Deanna would wear a tight pink sweater when she took Alf out to the barn.

He was always naked, but the whipping kept him warm, and she'd massage her breasts in the pink sweater the same way...

"Doncha wish you could play with my titties, Bubba?

But you can't...and you're NASTY to want to!" Deanna would be merciless in her teasing.

Deanna would occasionally stroke Alf's dick with one hand while toying with her chest with the other.

Then once in a great while she'd bring her cleavage right to Alf's straining, welted penis, and push the boobs around his dick.

Oh, rubbing the soft skin of her mammaries against his penis until he was very, very close to cumming.

This before pulling back and thrashing his dick with the willow until it broke in her hand.

A couple of times Alfie's dick was so hard that he actually spurted cum as she lashed his dick...

Yes, that was especially humiliating...

Once, Deanna Marie's pot dealer, Slimy Celentano, had come over.

Slimy had used his leather belt on poor Alfie's ass, while Deanna Marie had thrashed Alfie's cock...

Ah, finally they'd cut Alf down and Alf had given his first blowjob...he'd never talked about that, mysteriously!

Deanna Marie died of leukemia at the age of twenty-five.

Yes, everyone at the funeral was so touched by how weepy big brother Alfie was—-

But was it his love for his little sister...

Yes, or how much he would miss her whippings?

Now, Fanchon swung the cowboy quirt and hit Alfie across the cock once more, and she giggled.

This much as Deanna Marie had snorted at how simultaneously Alfie cried and his dick shot up...

Oh, it was uncanny.

Fanchon gave Alfie a big smile as she put the quirt down for a moment...

Yes, she was in quite a good mood!

"What's-what are you smiling about, dear?" Alf asked, his brow rising.

When Fanchon smiled, it wasn't always a fun thing for her husband.

"Is everything all right?"

"Well, we're having company tonight, Alfred.

I've invited Cyrus Thibodeau over for dinner."

Fanchon smirked as Alf's face fell a bit.

It wasn't long ago that he would've been thrilled to see Cyrus—they'd grown up together and were hell-raising buddies, until Fanchon had let Cy in on Alf's slave status.

It wouldn't have happened, except one night Alf had sneaked off to a strip bar with Cy and some of his other friends.

It had been a bachelor party, another guy had been about to get married, otherwise, Alf wouldn't have dared to do such a thing...

Fanchon didn't even let him go to football games or non-chick-flick movies... but he'd wanted to please his friends.

Fanchon had been enraged when she'd discovered that Alf had spent the evening gazing at naked girls dancing on little tables.

When Alf had gotten in, Fanchon had tied him to a hassock and cut one of the lamp cords, and tortured his balls with the sparking end of the cord, which of course was still plugged in the wall.

But that wasn't enough.

"I can't believe you'd humiliate those poor strippers.

Really, bars like that are for real men, not wimpie pansy boys." Fanchon had said to Alf, enraged.

"I'm going to humiliate you before your friends, just so they can see why a wimp like you isn't someone to take to such a place."

"Don't do that, Fanchon." Alf was adamant.

"I like our BDSM games, but the guys and I have a special relationship. I'm the leader, the Alpha male of the group!

I don't want them to know that I am your slave here at home. No way. Especially Gus and Cy...

we've always had a competition over whose top gun!"

"That's fine, honey." Fanchon had said, smiling.

"Then until you change your mind, you are forbidden to touch me."

And the next two weeks had been hell! Fanchon had begun wearing more and more snug tops, tiny skirts and high heels...

Poor Alf was left out in the cold!

Fanchon stopped tying Alf up and teasing him, which he had' found tender if a bit frustrating.

He was just bathed once a week, when she removed the chastity belt, scrubbing his cock and balls as his hands were tied, and then re-locking him up again.

But his punishments continued, of course.

One night, Alf had forgotten Fanchon's dry cleaning, and he protested in vain as she led him to the bed with a firm grip on his right nipple.

"B-but I thought we weren't touching each other!"

Fanchon had laughed.

"No, I can still touch you, and I will!"

After she'd ordered him to strip, Fanchon had tied him down and thrashed his buttocks and legs with her whippy whangee cane.

Whangee, also known as pearl bamboo, covered with bumps and ridges.

Fanchon had gritted her teeth and slashed Alf's bare buttocks thirty times.

Making Alf howl and scream in abject pain, before tossing the cane on the floor.

Then, in silence, she'd plowed his rear with her 18 inch strap-on dildo, five or ten times.

Fanchon then yanked it out, and slammed it into Alf's mouth, and then unbuckled it and left him in the darkened room.

All tied to the bed with the shit covered plastic phallus in his mouth.

It had seemed like hours before she'd come back into the room, untying him.

But, unlike usually, when she would comfort him on her lap.

Oh, and he would promise amendment before burrowing his little face between her tender things...

Yes now he was just ordered to the corner, and then to bed without supper.

Finally, Alf had fallen to his knees and BEGGED her to forgive him, and said, "Of course you can humiliate me by having me do a strip show in front of my friends...

I'll call them!"

And he did!

So Cy, Gus, Ozzy, Virgil, Lester, Stanley and Randy had come to the house one night, ostensibly for a poker game.

In the bedroom, Alf lost his nerve and had pleaded with Fanchon not to make him do this...

Ah but she'd thrashed him with her twelve plait blacksnake bullwhip, and he'd danced out into the living room, wearing only thigh high pink stockings and high heels.

This as well as heavy pancake makeup, lipstick and blusher, and a ridiculous blonde wig.

Fanchon had followed him out, declaiming to his friends

"See Miss Alfreda dance, boys...put a few dollars in her stockings...

Hey let's see if she can really please you!" CRACK! LASH SMACK!

Ozzy, Stan and Randy had left on the double, their stomachs churning but the other guys had stayed, laughing .

Yes, and Gus had actually taken the whip from Fanchon and given Alf a few across his narrow ass. Gus had always had a rivalry with Alf, academically and also in athletics.

Cyrus had resented Alf for beating him out to be the point guard on the Buttermilk Falls University basketball team.

Finally, Fanchon had whipped Alf's entire body until it was covered with welts.

Fanchon had then ordered Alf to kneel in the corner.

This while she'd played poker with his friends, and cleaned them out!

It had been a great time, and Fanchon never had to worry about Alf's buddies asking him out to do any more guy stuff...he was always safely at home, the little sissy!

But then Fanchon had run into Cy in the supermarket one day, and he'd seemed lonely.

Cy's his girlfriend had broken up with him, and he and Fanchon began talking.

"I'd love to have you over for dinner, Cy...and Alf would, too."

Fanchon had said, but Cy had looked terribly nervous.

"I don't know, Fanchon, you guys do that weird S&M thing, and y'know, Alf's my buddy.

I guess I understand why he hadda resign the bowling team, and the darts league.

Sure, and why we can't go to games anymore together, but I don't think he really wants me over there if you're going to be beating on him and shit."

But Fanchon could tell that the very cute Cy was staring at her with a peculiar intensity, and that he might be more interested in HER.

Yes, and that she probably could twist him round her little finger...and so she finally convinced him to come to dinner.

That first night had been somewhat awkward for Cy.

Fanchon had ordered Alf to strip and put an apron on and serve them dinner, waiting on his knees as the two had ate, rising only to refill wine glasses and take dishes away.

"I have such a hard time with this" Cy had said to Fanchon

"Alf is my friend...we're equals, I think.

How can you subjugate him to this role, Fanchon?"

"Cy, you must understand Alfred loves being my slave. He is constantly asking me to take it to a new level.

He is incredibly horny right now. Look at his apron.

Even though he's wearing a chastity device, you can see his erection protruding out of the apron.

This is the most exciting thing that's happened to him in some time!

Alfred admitted to Cy that it was something else.

"I am incredibly embarrassed that you and my other friends have seen me like this, and I miss my old camaraderie with you guys.

But I'm a submissive, and I have to obey my wife.

I'm the one who asked her to dominate me in the first place."

It was a bit harder for Alf later of course when Cy and Fanchon began necking on the living room couch. This was a new one for Alf.

Alf knew that Fanchon had "friends" that she saw. It was no mystery, for instance that the paper boy didn't bill them for the "Buttermilk Falls Beacon", or why the golf pro at their country club had a key to their house.

But this was almost too much—kneeling, naked except for an apron, watching your best friend sticking his tongue in your wife's mouth and fondling her breast!

But what could he do? Alf had known he was absolutely powerless over his wife!

"C'mon baby," Fanchon had finally said to Cy,

"Let's go to bed, shall we?" But as she took Cy's hand to pull him to the bedroom, he'd hesitated.

"Fanchon, this is so unfair to Alfred.

He's my buddy.

I can't cheat with you on him...he's like, crying while he watches us, I mean, we go back to Cub Scouts, you know?"

Fanchon had then sighed, and stood up.

She'd gone to Alf, and ripped off his apron, and unlocked his chastity device.

"Look at this penis, Cy. It's tiny. It can't do me any good. It's more of a clitoris than a penis, really...it's like a pinky."

Fanchon had then forced Alf to stand up and put his hands behind his back. She'd taken a coat hanger from the bedroom—a nasty wire one.

Yes, and thrashed Alf's penis with the coat hanger as Cy had watched, with his mouth agape.

"He's WHACK SMACK worthless, Cy.

And THWACK SMACK I'm going to whip WHACK SMACK his dick with this SMACK WHACK hanger until he ASKS you to fuck me...

BEGS you to WHACK SMACK fuck me.

Do it, SMACK WHACK Alfred, do it now!"

Tears rolled down Alfred's face.

He was doing his best to keep his hands behind his back as Fanchon whaled on his still quite hard dick with the clothes hanger.

He wanted to grit his teeth and be a man, and claim his wife for himself, but finally he had to give in.

"Please, oh please Cy, just take Fanchon in the bedroom and make love to her.

" Alf gasped with relief as Fanchon quit whacking his dick with the clothes hanger.

"I'm not worthy of Fanchon, and my dick hasn't entered her in nearly 28 months. Give her the satisfaction she wants."

And that night Cy and Fanchon had banged the bottom out of it while Alf sat in the living room, sobbing softly.

But the next time Cy had come over, after the sex was done, Fanchon called to the living room "Honey, come in here and clean us up!

We're full of stickiness, you know what I mean?"

Alf had refused, but Fanchon would have none of it!

She'd donned a robe and grabbed her nice thick short whip made of two or three leather thongs with little zinc stars at the end.

It certainly was a mind-changer if anything else was! "Leather Prozac" was what Fanchon called it.

From the sounds of Alf's anguish in the living room, Cy never would've guessed that Alf actually had purchased the scourge during a business trip in Ecuador.

Bought it of his own volition, and begged Fanchon to use it on him.

Cy had winced, hearing the blood curdling screams of "NO MISTRESS, PLEASE NO, IT HURTS SO MUCH, FANCHON YOU'RE KILLING ME!"

But soon Alf came stumbling into the bedroom, his naked body covered in welts.