elderly submissive

"Yes, Timothy, I've been to dungeons and dominatrixes everywhere" the old man said.

"St. Petersburg, Bucharest, Rome, Naples, Athens, Cyprus, Paris, Marseilles, Barcelona, Lima, Munich, Jordan, Abhu Dhabi, and Santiago, and that's all I can recall just now."

Tim leaned towards his Great-Uncle Bennett with some interest.

They were having coffee at an outdoor café, and Bennett gestured in a friendly way to a couple of cute girls in crop tops, Rollerblading down the street.

"Here come my friends, the Stickelbrock sisters, Tempest and Lyric." Bennett winked at Tim.

"Tempie is mine, but if you'd like to get to know Lyric, she is interested in what makes us masochists tick."

Bennett grinned, his dentures flashing in the sun.

"Their grandmother, Enchantra was my domme right after I was expelled from Yale in '52.

Then, thirty-three years later, I had my first session with Duella, her oldest daughter—and now the girls are here!"

Tim was astonished at the tapestry of generational BDSM history, and was even more impressed with the Stickelbrocks!

The girls, both curly topped blondes, pulled up in front of the table.

"Bennett, you lazy slut" said the taller one.

"You're getting the barber's strop when we get home. I saw how you missed the toilet peeing again and hit the wallpaper."

Tempest couldn't have been more than twenty-two, and the sixty-five year old Bennett humbly bent his head.

"I'm sorry, Miss Tempie, but you know my prostate problems, as well as the fact that I'm in a locked device."

"You can sit like a girl then on the toilet, can't you?" asked the shorter girl, who Tim noticed had quite a pair of mangoes under her Lycra top.

"That's no excuse, I'd think."

Tim grinned. Uncle Bennett was the black sheep of Tim's family.

He'd given up a valuable career as a thoracic surgeon to be a heroin addict for thirty years, supporting his habit by pickpocketing, along with a remittance from the family trust fund.

Now, in the twilight of his life, Bennett was on methadone maintenance, and his new interests apparently were in young, dominant women!

But, as Bennett had said, he apparently had been seeing Mistresses for years.

Tim had found a few of Bennett's bondage magazines around his grandfather's summer house when he was a kid, so it had been going on a while.

"You're such a bad boy, Bennett." Tempest said severely.

"Stand up and take your cock out, right now. You're not wearing your chastity device, I didn't put it on this morning."

Tim looked over at his dignified great-uncle. Resplendent in a French cuffed Eton Diamond shirt and Burberry blazer.

What would Bennett do? He certainly didn't want to look weird at this classy outdoor café but...

Uncle Bennett smiled uneasily at Tempest.

"I-I don't think this is the correct venue for me to risk an indecent exposure charge." But then Tempest leaned over and slapped Bennett's face, hard.

The other diners looked at the curious scene, the young Rollerblading goddess assaulting a man who could easily be her grandfather.

And then it got a bit more curious, or as Alice in Wonderland might say, Curiouser and Curiouser!

Bennett sighed, and stood up, unzipping his pants, and looking around him with a prep-school graduate's pain, he slowly pulled out his rather old and emaciated cock.

Tim drank deeply from his glass of Chateau Latour.

"That's just the tip" Lyric said, giggling.

"You should pull the whole thing out, so your balls are hanging out, too. It'll be a pretty sight on this perfect day." Both sisters broke up into hopeless giggles.

Bennett sighed, and bit his lip, and pulled his cock and balls out completely, and then Tempest reached over and zipped up the zipper.

This was painfully trapping Bennett's cock and balls so they were hanging and swaying in the wind. Tempest rolled back a little, exchanging a wink with Lyric.

"Now I want you to play with it. You're always begging me to let you play with your junk at home, telling me I'm too strict with the chastity belt, let's see you pull your donkey-dong here."

Bennett's face was burgundy with humiliation.

But, as Tim and the other café patrons watched, he slowly began jerking his penis.

Tempest pulled her crop top down over her full cleavage just a bit and Bennett began masturbating harder and harder, until his penis was at full mast!

"What an impertinent little fellow that cock is, eh, Lyric" Tempest said, laughing.

She took a fork off the table and stabbed Bennett right in his purple glans, and after a shriek, his penis wilted down to an inch and a half again.

"Now, I want you to jerk your dick again, and make it really, really hard." Tempest said, smiling. "This is good for you, get working on it."

Bennett shook his white hair in desperation, but then he began jerking his penis again, and it began swelling larger and larger.

Lyric flashed a nipple and Bennett got even harder, and a couple of passing panhandlers clapped voraciously.

"Now, Tim, you lend me your shoe." Tempest said, and Tim, breathing heavily took off his leather Mephisto wing tip.

Tempest snatched it out of his hand, and she beat poor Bennett's dick with the heel for about three minutes. THUNK! WHUNK WHACK!

Finally, Bennett was crying in pain, and his cock was small again, and beginning to bleed slightly.

Tempest tossed Tim his shoe and ordered Bennett to re-commence the masturbation.

The headwaiter began bustling over, as customers complained, but Lyric vaulted the outer café gate and walked up to him, putting her hands on his chest and speaking slowly.

Tim saw her pass him a bit of currency, probably a hundred dollar bill, and she also kissed his ear...and the maitre'd spun on his heel and returned to the restaurant.

"Now stop jerking your dick, Bennett." Tempest continued.

"We don't want you to be arrested." She picked up a water glass and tossed the water onto the sidewalk. "Now it's time to go wee-wee into the glass, Bennett."

Bennett blanched. "No-not here, Tempie, please."

As Tim watched, Tempie reached over, and grabbed Bennett's dick, protruding as it was out of his khakis, and twisted it hard.

The old man almost collapsed, and just barely righted himself.

"Now, pee in that glass, or I'll get that Pit Bull across the street to bite your dick off!"

Tempie was looking a little annoyed, and Bennett sighed, and peed into the glass.

"Now drink it. And fast."

Tim watched as his great-uncle drained the glass, coughing and spitting.

Police Lieutenant Mike Ponds pulled up in front of the café.

What the hell was THIS?

When one of the diners had called it in on the cell phone, it seemed so unbelievable, and Ponds was only a block away, investigating a B&E.

Ponds jumped out of the unmarked car and strode over to where Great-Uncle Bennett was just finishing his glass of urine.

Bennett's dick was still hanging out of his khakis.

All the other diners were staring at him, the young man sitting at the table with him seemed oblivious, and there were two teeny bopping Rollerbladers standing just outside the café gate.

"What the hell? Sir, I'm going to have to run you in for indecent..."

Mike Ponds was used to striking terror in the perps, and anyone around them, but one of the Rollerblade blondes put her hand on his arm.

"Don't you belong to my Aunt Omega?" the girl asked, turning to the other girl who looked almost identical, but a bit younger.

"Isn't that Omi's slut-pig, Tempest?" Both girls looked at Lieutenant Ponds, as the old man stuffed his penis back in his pants.

Lieutenant Ponds blanched. Mistress Omega?

How did these young women know about Mistress Omega?

Thinking of Mistress O, Ponds's own penis tried to swell into an erection, but of course Miss Omi had him locked in a tiny tube...just the harshest thing.

"To keep your hands off the prostitutes my dear."

Omi had told Ponds when she'd locked it on him.

Ponds had been so annoyed when Mistress Omi had said that. How did she know that he often bartered with the whores, letting them off a bust for a free blowjob or so?

Now, the girl called Tempest snickered.

"Yeah, I remember visiting, that's right. Back when we were Girl Scouts. Omi made Pondsy here buy fifty boxes of Thin Mints and Dosi-dos, and he was dressed up in a pink tutu with a huge rubber dildo sticking out of his ass!"

Now all the café patrons were listening attentively. The old man, who really should be run in, what a perv, was even smiling a bit. "Don't be ashamed, my boy. They're a great family. The ladies who keep us in line!"

Ponds smiled weakly and ran for the car, hoping he could get down the block before anyone made out his badge number.