Lady Charlotte Sheffield enjoyed watching chess matches while she took her afternoon tea. Not that Charlotte was an intellectual snob. Not at all. You see her chess matches were conducted to satisfy her erotic fetish; to see two men trying to concentrate under the most trying of conditions. Competency at the game was of course important, but equally so was self-control.
The rules were simply. Acceptance of an invitation merited a fee. It didn't take much of one to entice young chess players of average skill who were akin to the proverbial starving artists.
The games were timed with each player given fifteen minutes. Running out of time meant a loss and what a loss entailed. The loser would be caned by the winner to her ladyship's heart content. And what a big heart she had.
As If this all didn't provide enough stress the players would be sexually stimulated by two young, unseen house servants working over their privates beneath the game table. Were a player to succumb during play and ejaculate he would immediately lose the match.
Oh what fun!
"My Lady," said the butler. "Here are the contestants for this afternoon's match."
Charlotte looked up from her wing chair which sat atop a step giving it an air of a mini-throne there in her Great Room. Both of the young men were wearing modified tuxedos which the butler had had them exchange for their street clothes. The modifications were that they were wearing white dickeys with black bowties and black skirts which could be spread open at the front.
"My Lady, I'm Henri Bonnet. I do so appreciate the invitation," said one as he bowed and kissed her extended hand.
"You don't sound French," she said as she looked down at the man in his mid-twenties wearing black horn rim eyeglasses. He appeared to be a borderline nerd.
"No ma'am. My departed father was from Paris. No, I am quite British."
"Then you've had the cane?"
"Most certainly. But today I plan to do the caning," he said as he gave a smirk to his opponent standing beside him.
As he slowly straighten up he stared at the rattan cane there in Her Ladyship's lap. Lord it looked vicious. Truly man-sized and of a raw texture.
"My Lady, I'm Bruce Hathaway. Such a pleasure in meeting you," said the other with a shy bow.
Charlotte looked him over carefully. This Bruce was likely gay. Then all shy young men were certainly not gay. But his pale white skin and sandy hair and blue eyes would clearly turn on gays. Certainly he had been exposed to the gay community, if nothing else. Charlotte extended her hand.
Bruce looked at her hand which demanded attention. With trepidation he took it and kissed while his eyes remained riveted on the monstrous cane there in her lap. He had expected a school cane; not this horrid thing.
"Your tea, my Lady," said the Butler as he presented a tray.
"Thank you, James."
"Mister Hathaway; Mister Bonnet."
The two men took their teacups and saucers.
"Tell me gentlemen, are you up to date with the latest chess conventions?"
The two looked at each other, questionably. "I assume so, my lady," replied Henri.
"So you know the Bucharest Gambit and the Sicilian Slant; the Mondovi Movement and the King Arthur Flanker?"
The two young men's mouths dropped open. Slowly they turned to look at each other as if to say what? Then Charlotte laughed.
"Just kidding, young men. They only exist in my head."
Both sighed in relief and took sips of their tea while still standing there before the throne in their formal attire, mindful that they were wearing black long skirts rather than trousers.
At that moment they heard a girlish giggle come from beneath the chess table over which a ruby colored sheet was draped. Lord but they sounded young with girlish glee. Charlotte smiled.
"So you know the rules, gentlemen?"
"Yes ma'am. Fifteen minute limits and the loser gets the . . . gets the . . ."
"This," replied Charlotte as she pointed down at the horrid cane there on her lap. "I call her Betsy."
"Right. On the bare?"\
"Of course."
"How many, ma'am?"
"However many I wish, naturally. You do ask rather silly questions."
"Yes ma'am. Sorry," replied the sandy-haired shy one. "This format is rather new to me."
"Then do take your seats gentlemen and let the game begin."
- - - - - - - - - - -
The two shy young men took their seats facing each other. They put their teacups and saucers down and studied the timers. Only then did the butler present the chessboard and chess players. Now the rumors they had heard were confirmed. The chess pieces were custom made.
The pawns were three year-old naked boys postured to pee with their hands on their hips. They appeared to be made of porcelain. The knights were on horseback with their naked buns raised on high like racehorse jockeys. The bishops had their cocks and balls outside of their priestly gowns.
The king was a king-sized cock raised on high with a royal crown atop its cock's nob. The Queen was a pole dancer whose crown was atop her pole. As if the game format wasn't already challenging enough!
As Henri was studying his opponents big bad black cock-king the butler started his clock. Quickly he advanced one of his peeing boy pawns and hit his timer-clock which started Bruce's.
It wasn't until three moves later that the house servant girls began to make their presence known by making their own moves. Just as Bruce had lifted his knight he felt his skirt pulled apart beneath the table followed by a feminine hand placed midway up his thigh. Suddenly he didn't know where to put his knight down.
At the same time Henri felt his skirt pulled apart and the room air on his privates. Lady Sheffield noted the startled look on the young men's faces and smiled as she took another sip of her tea. Bruce was still trying to determine where to set his knight down. The knight's naked butt up in the air like that didn't help his concentration. Ding went the timer-clock as his knight took a pee-boy pawn.
Feeling the pressure of the timer Henri took a black pawn only to have Bruce take his knight with his black bishop with his big bad black cock standing upright out of his robe. Take that, implied the bishop. As is that wasn't enough the ding of his timer was heard, adding to the pressure.
Down below feminine hands began to caress the inner thighs of the two players. Both Bruce and Henri rose to the occasion. Below the table, that is.
Charlotte took another sip of tea as she saw the two young men squirm and begin to pant. Panting in lust was not inductive to intellectual thought processes.
A frenzy of piss-boy pawn exchanges were made as Bruce felt a tongue begin to lick his balls and as Henri felt his nuts cupped in one hand and his shaft begin to be licked.
"How's it going, Brucee-boy," inquired Henri with a smirk as he hit his timer.
"Screw you." Ding.
"I'm sure you would like that." Ding.
Now Bruce's balls were cupped and began to be gently squeezed as a tongue licked his shaft. "Shit."
"Is there some problem Bruce," inquired Lady Sheffield.
"No ma'am; no problem. SHIT!"
"I hate to point this out Bruce, but aren't you beginning to run a tad low on time," said Charlotte with a smile.
As Bruce stole a glance at his timer he felt his knob enter a warm female mouth as his nuts continued to be squeezed and un-squeezed. Must think; must think, he instructed his brain. Unfortunately his brain had other things on its mind, namely his cock and balls. In his haste he made a significant error.
"Check." DING
"What? Oh shit."
But Henri's little victory was short lived as he felt his knob enter a warm mouth as his balls continued to be messaged. God but did he ever want to thrust.
As Bruce attempted to study his dire situation he felt that mouth over his cock-knob move down onto his shaft as his balls continued to be manipulated.
Must think; must think.
"Gentlemen," interrupted the butler. "Fair warning that Mister Bonnet has three minutes thirty-five seconds now remaining and that Mister Hathaway has one minute ten seconds remaining. Thank you."
"Might we take a time-out," asked Bruce.
Lady Sheffield chuckled. "That's cute."
Tick tick tick tick
Talk about pressure! There was the pressure of the match, the pressure of the clock and the pressure in the cocks beneath the table inside of your servants' mouths.
Bruce move a piece quickly to place his king out of check for the moment. He hit his timer. Ding.
Henri had just about decided on his next move when he felt that warm mouth about his knob quickly advance until he felt a feminine nose abut his abdomen. Now he wasn't quite sure.
Tick tick tick tick
Feeling a momentary sense of relief in knowing that the clock was now running down for Henri, Bruce relaxed a bit. That was the moment that his cock entered the throat of the lass down below. He gasp as his head lifted up towards the ceiling. Will he come now, wondered Lady Sheffield?
Both men now had to struggle in not ejaculating. Oh God no. Don't cum, boy; don't.
"Check. Check mate," announced Henri with his next move. Fortunately that proved enough of a shock to keep Bruce from cuming. But unfortunate in that he had lost.
The two house servants abruptly belayed their affections. Quickly they pinned the men's black skirts back to keep their fronts and their rock-hard, unsatisfied cocks exposed. Her Ladyship would certainly want to watch their manhood as one delivered the horrid cane and the other accepted it. Often she had seen the caner's cock remain on high while the canee's cock withered. But one never knew. Individual differences, you know.
"Bravo, Henri. You are my champion."
With that Lady Sheffield extended the horrid cane. Henri had no choice but to stand up to accept the honor. As he did so with a bow Charlotte studied his wet goodies which were in a black forest which matched the color of his black horn rim glasses.
"Mister Hathaway, if you would rise and present yourself to her ladyship," instructed the butler who now had a towel draped over his arm like a waiter.
Bruce's face blushed as he too now rose and took his stance beside Henri. Charlotte studied his wet, unsatisfied cock and balls and couldn't help but make the comparison.
"Why Bruce. What a big cock you have."
"Thank you, my lady."
"Quite the handsome one, I should say."
"And your pubic hair. Why it's the same sandy color of your head hair. Did you realize that?"
"Yes ma'am. I've been told."
Bruce's blush deepened as Henri looked down with envy.
"Butler. A blue ribbon, please."
