Marigold Tells The Truth

In the Attic

Spenlow thought of beautiful Marigold, and how she'd run her pale pink nails all over his cock as he'd been tied down. She'd be in one of her snug powder blue T-shirts, and licking her lips, tossing her long hair behind her shoulder, and he'd squirm, but be completely in her power.

I'd started out with them fucking like rabbits, and then she'd gradually introduced him to spanking and teasing, and then using the canes and the evil blacksnake whip on him...and more teasing.

"Why is it, Marigold" Spen had whined "The only time you let me touch your body is with my hands and tongue, and then I'm locked in the chastity belt, but when I get the belt off, my hands are tied and you are all dressed and teasing me?"

But now...he was naked and he was masturbating, and terribly horny, but of course he couldn't cum...

Without dire results!

Spenlow Phibbs knelt miserably in the hot attic, jerking his dick. He had been jerking it for eighteen hours straight as a punishment after Marigold caught him out of the chastity belt without permission.

Spenlow had been in the Marine Corps from ages 17 to 40, most of that time as a drill sergeant, before becoming a high school gym teacher and football coach for 28 years...telling people what to do was what he was good at, and LOUD. But the tables had turned, it seemed.

Spenlow was on the verge of orgasm, and the little ghetto punk who was sitting on the stool watching him, leaned over and touched his cock with the taser.

Spenlow couldn't understand it--Spenlow Jr, called Spike, was a gang leader in East Buttermilk Falls, and the twins, Herman "The Vermin" and Sherman "The German" were upstate in Anvers Correctional for manufacturing autographed pictures of Jesus...

Hey,but Scrip, he was the one that never needed direction, started out painting and showing houses, for a big realtor company, made it to junior broker and then what does he do?

Scrip starts boinking his boss's wife, tells Spenlow that the husband is some kind of sex slave to the wife, and serves both Scrip and the wife...

It gets so good that Scrip broke up with Adela, his rich, beautiful fiancée who coulda done him a lotta good for this married chick, Marigold!

And then Scrip becomes a sex slave too. So Spenlow comes over to the family manse to tell the wife off, no bitch is going to, yada yada, and here Spenlow was, mopping floors in a frilly apron and jerking off in front of this kid eighteen hours without a damn orgasm.

Spenlow, who never took anything from any chick, and began fucking and dumping girls when he was in seventh grade...and look what happened!

He was locked in this damn attic, and forced to suck off (him, the drill sergeant) a worthless thug, a shitheel like his older sons. He had to suck the nigger kid's dick once every two hours as "payment" for baby-sitting him while he did his forced edging of the hard cock...

How could this happen?

Trefoyle Crown looked down at the pudgy little man, pounding his pud. Tref had had Coach Phibbs as his P.E. teacher at Buttermilk Falls Central High for six months before he'd been expelled for selling rock.

Tref had thought the cracker was a dick then, and look at him now--Mister Coach, all fat and naked, jerking off and sucking Tref's dick like he was some faggy....just 'cause Marigold tole him to.

White people just mystified Tref like there was no tomorrow.

Tref really enjoyed buzzing the coach's dick over and over again, when he got close to making' his mess, you know? Tref knew the coach didn't recognize him, he probably thought all bammas looked the same, the racist mother.

Tref buzzed the coach's dick again and laughed like a banshee when the coach burst into tears.

Out in the Yard

Scriptor Phibbs, hot-shot property broker for the illustrious firm of Ruskin, Rourke, Rushden, Reilley Rooney and Regan gently rubbed suntan oil on Marigold's cleavage, bulging as it was in the polka-dot bikini. Scrip tried not to get too enthusiastic—she had a wicked slap when she wanted to, and all those rings with stones really could hurt!

Brownjohn Bastable, the Buttermilk Falls village idiot, ambled by the yard, and looking over the fence, grinned and drooled at Scrip, who shot Brownjohn the finger.

He was being laughed at by everyone in town, Scrip was...but he'd better not piss off Marigold, the slap would be nasty...

Or, if she got really, really irritated, Marigold would grab Scrip's balls as he was lying down and whip the bunched scrotum with one of her high heels...it got your attention, as Scrip's grandfather might say...

Scheurich "Rusk" Ruskin was clipping the bushes, in the nude, as Scrip was at work he was the managing partner of the five R's firm but at home, he was rather fearful.

Scrip couldn't believe how things had changed so dramatically! Here he was, carefully rubbing suntan oil all over the areas of Marigold's gorgeous cleavage that weren't' covered by the snug bikini, and he was terrified that he might touch her barely covered nipple accidentally.

But six weeks previous, he'd been fucking the daylights out of her.

Scrip remembered when his boss, Rusk, had invited him to come home for dinner.

He'd been fully respectful, calling him "Mr. Ruskin" until they'd gone hunting together, and after Scrip had landed a white-tailed doe, it had been "Call me Rusk, boy!"

But Scrip had still been in awe of his boss--until they'd gotten home, and the super macho Rusk Ruskin had changed, somehow.

Scrip's grandmother watched "Dynasty" on Netflix over and over again, and Marigold Ruskin looked just like Joan Collins—fifty years old, thick brunette hair, and huge round boobs.

Big lips, too. Rusk had introduced Scrip to Marigold

"Goldie, darling, this is young Scriptor, one of our rising stars at the firm, just unloaded the Nootin properties for quite a pretty penny."

And Marigold, as she insisted Scrip call her, was just totally charming, she like, blew him away, man. And they had a great dinner...but it was weird watching Rusk wait on her, and he seemed not the raging asshole he could be at work sometimes...

Rusk's younger brother, Erhard had warned Scrip to avoid "personal involvement" with Rusk's family Erhard was a good guy and a reliable property manager for the firm, but Scrip didn't see how he should direct Scrip's social life, so he went with Rusk for dinner.

Dinner was a little weird, At one point, Scrip felt someone playing footsie with him, and then he felt a foot on his dick, right under the table! He looked up, and Marigold was grinning at him over her glass of Pinot Grigio.

Then, after dinner, having Martinis in Rusk's den, Marigold had looked at Rusk.

"Yes, I like Scrip, darling. He's very much my type. Why don't you get ready." Rusk stood up, looking a little nervous. "I am a bit wary of this, darling Goldie. You know, of course that the boy works for me—"

Marigold smiled at Scrip.

"Dear boy, do you find me attractive?" She took a sip from her glass. "Don't worry about Rusk, just answer me honestly."

Scrip gulped. He looked down and his dick was pushing against the twill pants.

Marigold was sitting right next to him on the divan, and she reached over and massaged his crotch area with her elegant red nails, and, although he thought he should push her hand away, he moaned.

Scrip looked over at Rusk, who just stood there kind of staring at his feet.

Am I going to be fired? Or shot? The guy's got like, an arsenal here. But Mr. N.R.A. was just standing there looking a bit silly.

"I think I've got the answer, Rusk. Why don't you go and get ready, before I become testy, darling."

Marigold turned her attention to Scrip, and as Rusk left the room, she rapidly unzipped Scrip's trousers, and pulled his dick out. Leaning over, so he could see her whole cleavage, and what it was, two white bouncing melons, she whispered

"Rusk can be so tiresome, but what can a girl do?"

"Let me tell you a story" Marigold said as she continued to rub Scrip's dick.

"When Rusk was a little boy, he was a bit of a snob, having inherited this marvelous real estate company from dear old Daddy...and he used to provoke the less fortunate children, telling them they were beggars and urchins."

Scrip was trying to listen, but his dick was harder and harder, and at one point, Marigold leaned over and rubbed her cleavage against it, never stopping the massage.

"

And the boys took umbrage at Rusk's insinuations and I am afraid they assaulted him, or in your vernacular, they kicked his aslant he perceived this as bullying later Rusk and I got married, and we began playing kinky games, and I met one of the bad boys that Rusk used to have difficulties with, and---why there's Rusk now!"

Scrip was interested in the rest of the story, in a way, but he looked up and in horror, he witnessed Rusk shamefacedly entering the den wearing an unflattering beige lace bra and panty set and ill-fitting high heels God, it's so gross, Scrip thought.

He has like, all this gray chest hair, and with the top, it's almost nauseating. Scrip looked at Marigold, who smiled and pointed to an area of the Oriental rug right in front of them, and there Rusk knelt.

"Now to finish the story." Marigold said, as she let go of Scrip's cock and undid a few buttons on her blouse, freeing her full, magnificent breasts.

"I got to meet Rusk's so-called bully...and the fellow told me that Rusk hadn't told the whole story, that he'd used to sodomize Rusk in the locker room at school, and he and his friends often would confront Rusk when he was butterfly hunting in the woods, and they'd tie him down, naked, and whip him, and use his mouth and rear...just boyish pleasure."

Scrip looked down, horrified at Rusk, who just blushed and stared at his knees.

"And I told Rusk that I wanted him to allow the bully, whose name was Turk, to assist me in dominating him. I assume, from what you've seen here, Rusk being in his scanties, that we are into BDSM, and you've heard of that, eh Scrip?"

Scrip nodded. There were jokes about it on "Family Guy" and "Saturday Night Live" but he never thought that Mr. Ruskin...Oh God. But didn't Marigold have some massive ta-tas!

Marigold smiled. "Rusk was opposed to this.

Although he had always fantasized about being a submissive, he couldn't as he put it, `tolerate' having sex with a man, or letting a man dominate him...even though it had happened when he was young.

So I countered by telling Rusk that he would get a bare bottom spanking every day—fifty with my thick wooden paddle—until he let Turk come to dinner...and it took about eight days to bring Rusk to obedience in this matter."

Rusk Remembers

Kneeling in front of his subordinate in abject humiliation, Rusk's memory went back to every night...he'd come home and Marigold, then a fetching young housewife, would look up at him.

"Well? Have you changed your mind yet?"

Of course she was so cute in her little halters and short-shorts, or sometimes a miniskirt....and Rusk loved being her submissive. but every day?

"No, I'm still thinking about it honey" Rusk would say genially.

"Then get the paddle, and take down your pants."

Rusk argued. "Goldie, it's just taking me some time—"

"No, you call me Miss Marigold. Get the paddle, and take down your pants, or I'll get REALLY mad."

As he shuffled back with the paddle, and began unbuttoning his pants, dreading fifty---`cause he'd had fifty the night before—whacks, but he looked at his young wife, and she was implacable.

"Ruskin, when you decide to let Turk come over and work with you, I'll let you off this...and you can go back to just punishment and training spankings...but this disobedience is really angering your Mistress"

She'd pull him over her knees, pulling the pants down around his ankles, and then she would begin with the thick wooden paddle, about the size of a table tennis Ping-Pong thingie. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

And of course Rusk would shift and bite his tongue, trying to be brave and manly, but he'd break down in sobs about at swat 23.

Rusk had tried so hard not to cry, and of course the whacks from the paddle had just brought him into almost hysteria.

At swat 28, he was trying to get off Marigold's lap, but she twisted his right arm behind his back and held him until reaching fifty.

Then she pushed Rusk off her lap and got up, and businesslike she went about the business of serving dinner. "Pull your pants up, Ruskin, it's time to eat.

If you like, you can stand while you have dinner."

The other issue, besides the daily thrashing was, Rusk was locked in a chastity belt, and Marigold had told him that she wasn't going to let him out of it until he had sucked Turk's dick.

What complicated the matter was, of course, Rusk's firm had hired Turk to do work on the properties, Turk was an electrician...and Rusk didn't want it getting around at the firm that Marigold had uh...

Apparently, at the time, Marigold had approached Turk, who knows how she met him, except of course Rusk had told her he'd hired his former bully, trying to look good. That was stupid of him, what a blabbermouth!

So she'd approached him at a site, and asked who he was, and then she'd taken him to a motel and fucked him, and then told him that there was an open marriage!

Can you imagine? And now she wanted Rusk to approach Turk and bring him home for dinner.

A month before, Marigold had locked Rusk in chastity indefinitely.

"Until you bring Turk home"

And, as lustful as Rusk felt towards his beautiful wife, who unlocked him every night and teased him for an hour, locking back up again then...he couldn't conceive of sucking Turk's dick.

He'd had to do it when they were young, and couldn't bear to go through with it again.

After two weeks, Marigold had added the additional punishment of a daily hairbrush spanking, which had been going on for fourteen days before; Rusk finally had brought Turk home.

" Seriously, Mr. Ruskin" Turk had asked when Rusk had approached him at work. "I really appreciate you giving' me the job, but..."

And then, after dinner, twenty some years ago, Rusk had stripped naked upon Marigold's order, and after she'd kissed Turk hard, she'd told Turk to whip and butt-fuck Rusk like he'd done in the old days, insisting that Rusk was a bisexual.

And Rusk had smiled, miserably and gone through with it.

And soon enough, Turk had begun his old habits of cuffing Rusk, and snapping his fingers, demanding Rusk make him a drink as he'd once demanded Rusk's lunch money...

And darling Marigold had sent Rusk to live in the broom closet downstairs and taken Turk to her bed...alas.

After that, the daily paddlings stopped, and Marigold had allowed Rusk to masturbate onto Turk's engineering boots, and lick off the scum...but that had only been the beginning!

Now, Rusk looked up at Scrip, who was nibbling Marigold's bare nipples. "You see, Rusk?" Marigold said sweetly.

"You love my breasts, but I don't let you play with them much...because you're just a little fairy, aren't you. Much better to have a young buck like Scrip here enjoy them. "

In spite of himself, Rusk began to cry silently. He knew it was true.

He enjoyed looking at his Goddess's breasts usually cloaked in snug turtlenecks or sexy halter tops...sometime she'd wear tight t-shirts, and tighter denim shorts....

It made him think of the time that she'd gone camping with him, Turk, and several of Turk's buddies...and how they'd whipped him with branches and made him do all the chores while taking turns with his delectable wife!

Now Marigold smiled at Rusk, and then turned to Scrip.

"How would you like a little stimulation while you suck my beautiful breasts, darling? I'm going to let Rusk give you some head."

The boy looked scared. His big, bad boss! "Um, I don't um... Mr. Ruskin...."

"No no, sweetheart, he's not Mr. Ruskin here, just a little sissy bitch. Remember, he put those bra and panties on, by himself. He wants to suck your cock; he's a queer-boy"

Rusk gasped.

He wasn't gay, damn it...didn't Scrip see that? But of course Scrip was in Marigold's thrall.

"Now one thing, Ruskin, I want you to put some lip gloss on, hot cherry...so you can arouse Scrip a bit..."

Rusk bit his lip, but he went into the other room and applied Loreal's Fresh Sugar lip gloss, and then, on the verge of tears, returned to the den, his once masculine study, and began sucking his employee's cock, deep throating it as Marigold had taught him to do, first on her strap-on, and then on Turk...

But it was so disgusting and Rusk was completely heterosexual, but did that matter?

As he sucked Scrip's cock, Rusk thought of the party Marigold had last year...Turk had died of lung cancer, and Marigold had wanted younger men, anyway...they'd had a huge orgy with all their friends from the PainCafe, which was the BDSM club of Buttermilk Falls...

Right, and they'd invited other heterosexual people, especially young soldiers, sailors and airmen from the military bases around the state.

Rusk had been locked in his chastity belt, and he'd sucked off all the men and women at the party, often getting a young guy's dick hard so they could impale his lovely wife at the end of the evening, everyone had cum except Rusk himself, and he was just kneeling in the corner, his lower lip trembling, and his cock still locked up!

Although Marigold allowed Rusk to jerk off about every six weeks or so...it seemed so unfair that his jaw was absolutely numb after an evening of oral service...and he couldn't even wank!

And now he was sucking and slurping at Scrip's penis and he knew that he would go to bed tonight as celibate as he'd been all day. Marigold was cruel...and if the kid stayed over, poor Rusk would be in the broom closet, again.

LATER

What a glorious time it had been for Scrip—not only had the boss not fired him, Scrip would've expected no less—shit, if I had an employee who cuckolded me with my wife AND he made me suck his dick, I'd shoot him...

Alas, but no, Scrip actually got a raise, and started visiting the Ruskins regularly.

What a freaky deal it was, too.

Rusk wore a little metal tube around his dick, and couldn't even jerk off, and he spent HOURS licking his wife between her legs, and when her bridge group came over, worse.

Rusk came home early and ate all four of them out under the table!

He must've been terribly horny, the old man, but he was so good about servicing his wife, and sucking Scrip off too.

Scrip had never thought of himself as bisexual, but Marigold let him suck on her boobs and eat her out and he was so overcome with her incredible beauty, that he ignored what was stimulating his dick...even if it was his ugly old boss!

What was so hard to see was how Rusk was benefiting from this relationship.

Here he was, servicing Marigold's vagina, AND Scrip's dick, and he didn't benefit at all, and sometimes Scrip could hear Rusk crying in the broom closet.

One day Marigold had ordered Rusk to grab his ankles, and she'd handed Scrip a long, thin bamboo cane.

"Give him a few, Scrip—you have to let Rusk know whose boss."

But Scrip couldn't do it. "I just can't. He's MY boss." Rusk looked relieved but Marigold was pissed. Oh, she looked so beautiful that day, in a tight purple minidress, standing in high heels, and Scrip and Rusk both stared at her.

"You don't get it Scrip—WHACK SLASH WHACK—hold still, Rusk, this won't take long—WHACK SMACK—Rusk is my little bitch-boy, and—WHACK CRACK SMACK SLASH—I want him to be your little pansy too!"

Marigold began thrashing Rusk's buttocks, and soon Rusk let go of his ankles and ran out into the yard, Marigold after him, as Scrip watched horrified, from the window.