Slave Spalding

Masie, who was just toying the hell out of his stiff cock right now, had dropped out of two hairdressing schools, and spent a lot of time rolling and selling joints, but her future was assured, too...

She'd met four submissive men in her twenty-one years who had proposed to her, and three were quite rich!

Maisie tortured Spalding to distraction all the time—

Oh, she sat on his face, dropping only her panties, five to seven times a day, and was constantly unlocking his belt to tease him.

All Spalding's sisters had the master keys to his belt, and so there was a lot of that, but Maisie was the worst. She was the prettiest of the girls, and also the most devious.

When she wasn't teasing Spalding in the house, she was tying him naked to the rafters in the garage and whipping his bare ass with a thorny branch from the rose bush.

She'd wield this with glove-covered hands, and whip Spalding's little white ass until it resembled a burgundy pincushion!

Now, there was a commercial for feminine hygiene products on, so Maisie was stroking Spal's rock hard cock, and tickling his armpits a little, too.

"Your big birthday party is coming up. Ma says you can have a normal one this year...not just family, you can wear clothes...

Yes you can have a keg, and your friends here. You've never even tasted beer, have you, Spalding?"

"No," Spalding admitted, ashamed.

Searcy came home one night in his twentieth summer, on time at eleven o'clock but with a little beer on his breath, and Mother had looped baling wire around his scrotal sack, attached the other end to the back of her lover's Harley (Mother loved bikers) and instructed him to drag Searcy around the block!

The dude had only gone five miles an hour, but Searcy was quite blistered and cut up after the ride was over, and it taught strict teetotaling to the males in the Tyll family.

Maisie and her sisters had been guzzling beer, rum and Long Island Iced Teas since early high school, and laughed at their sober brothers...but then again, the men have to make a living, right? Good to teach responsibility.

Suddenly, Spalding's reverie was interrupted as his Mother came into the living room, wielding a thick rope with ten knots in it.

The end of the rope had a wooden handle, somewhat like the handle of a jump rope, and at the other end was a knotted fork.

Mother was a tightwadder and saw no reason to blow money on the whips and implements that were sold online and at the PainCafe's Dungeonopolis Gift Shop.

Why, when she could make things like this at home.

Spal's Mom was a gorgeous, chesty ash blonde, not yet fifty, and quite popular around Buttermilk Falls, especially with young blue-collar men who were eager to pop their cherries.

Her husband and sons worshipped but feared her, and it was a complicated deal.

"Ma...whassup. Your rope looks a little bloody there."

Maisie said, as she ran her thumb up and down Spalding's frenum.

Maisie was an absolute expert at finding new and different ways to stimulate the underside of Spalding's cock, but then she could also pinch just in time, before he was about to orgasm.

"That's right, darling" Mother said, as she looked approvingly at her daughter, teasing and torturing her son...she smiled as if the two were playing Old Maid.

"Your father promised he would wash my car before I went to visit LeTroyce, a young man who has just left the Pre-Release Center at the Buttermilk County Detention Home.

Mother paused and sighed, sadly, and her considerable bosom heaved.

"But of course Daddy was more interested in his precious stamp collection, and I had to ride over there in a dirty car."

" LeTroyce didn't care, he was a perfect gentleman, but I don't like representing myself this way, so when I got home, I peed on Daddy's latest stamp album, and then took him out to the garage with my rope toy here, and laid 85 on his bare buttocks.

I think maybe next time he might listen, don't you?"

Mother smiled to herself, swinging the rope casually.

One of the knots hit Spal right in the nut sack and he howled.

"Sorry darling" Mother said absently. "But you're such a wimp. Your friend Sylvan wouldn't even wince at that."

Spalding rolled his eyes. First, Sylvan was Perkins's friend. Perk had been caught telling dirty jokes in the basement with his friends Sylvan Stockley ,Altemus Quinn, and Treacle McCoy.

She'd stripped Perk and whipped him right there in front of his buds with her trusty cut off two foot piece of firehose (she had a lover in the Department), and Allie and Treacle had run in horror, but Sylvan has just knelt there in fascination.

When it was over, and Perkie was weeping in shame and humiliation, Sylvan had told Mother,

"Mrs. Tyll, I'm at fault too, and my parents are permissive psychologists...I need this more than Perkins does."

Before Mother could argue, Sylvan had stripped to his tightie whities, and then when Mother approached with her firehose, she'd smiled evilly at Sylvan and said,

"You know you have to take those down, too..."

Sylvan had blushed and taken his undies down to his ankles, and Mother had bent him over the rec room pinball machine and had nearly worn her arm out. She'd started slow, no need to get a lawsuit from the Stockleys (Jerome Stockley was a personal injury lawyer) but when Sylvan hadn't made a sound, she'd gone for it big time.

By this time Perk was hiding under a beanbag, and when Sylvan said he needed further punishment for onanism and porn back home.

Mother had taken him upstairs and given him an ice-cold enema, and then he'd stripped HER and gone down on Mother for an hour...and now he was a regular visitor!

Mother had been amazed at how willingly and silently Sylvan had been when she'd whipped him with thorny branches, rods, canes, whips, and cattle prods.

He could hang by his nipples for an hour without a murmur, which put the submissive Tyll men to shame—they were all criers, including Potter, the war hero!

Sylvan had noted Perk's chastity belt with envy, and though he'd hunted Altemus and Treacle down and threatened to beat their faces in if they told anyone about Perkins's plight (and Sylvester was a tough kid, his word had weight) still, he craved chastity.

By Sylvan's twentieth birthday, Mother had gotten a doc to staple his cock and balls to the back of his buttocks, and the toughest kid in Buttermilk Falls wore full time drag worked at the lipstick counter at Neiman-Marcus and went by "Sylvia" (though close pals called Sylvia "Posy.")

Now Mother looked at Spalding somewhat contemptuously.

"Just a little bitch, still. And I'm thinking of letting you have a normal party, since you're going to be a big, macho twenty-two.

But maybe not.

After all, you're such a wussy. Maybe we should just have the regular thing, where you're naked and I give you twenty-two lashes while you masturbate...even though you DID get a C in Organic Chemistry."

Maisie looked innocently up at Mother as she continued to stroke Spalding.

"But Ma, you said that Spal would get to wear clothes, and you'd take his belt off, and let him drink and act normal with his friends...you're not going to let him down now, are you?"

Spalding sure hoped not—he'd worked hard, buttering Mom up for this treat. He'd done all sorts of humiliating things she'd asked of him—

Yes he'd worn bright pink nail polish while running in his track meet...

And he'd actually won the damn thing, but had to run home before they could give him his trophy and see the shiny nails!

When Cousin Lucifer had shamefully come out, and been rejected by his family, Mother had invited Luce, big fat and homely to stay with them for the summer.

Yes and when Luce had confessed that he'd always had a crush on Spalding, Mother had asked Spalding to suck Luce's dick, and give him a few other treats, intimating that she'd be very generous back around Spal's big twenty-two.

That had been eight months ago, and Spal's stomach had spun whenever he'd let his fat, queer, acne-ridden cousin sodomize and lick him...

Yes, but he knew he wanted to have a legitimate "guy" party.

When Luce had started school at Buttermilk State, Mother had actually gotten Spalding a pager, and whenever Luce called Spal, he'd go over to Luce's dorm and suck him off, whatever he wanted...it was pure torture!

Spalding thought with horror of his last "private family" party.

Mother had invited her friends Mistress Phoenix, Nanny Omega, and Goddess Genesis and Lady Oddyssey from New York.

Yes, and they'd had a field day putting clothespins and sharp clamps all over Spal's body and making him dance.

Boswell's wife had saved thirty of her bloody tampons and sixteen tied condoms from old lovers for Spalding to suck out, and they'd played "Bobbing for Apples"—

All the Tyll brothers—Mother's style, which meant bobbing their heads in a vat of urine for rounded turds that had been frozen in the garage freezer.

"So you're excited then, about your party, darling?"

Mother interrupted Spalding's reverie.

"You want a nice normal thing this year, with your regular friends and a bit of music, I suspect? You've earned it, I suppose."

Spalding was ecstatic. "Yes, Mother, I really appreciate that." He was, after all, graduating with honors, and had done everything Mother asked him to.

The day of the party came, and Spalding was enthralled, fully dressed in faded jeans and a concert T-shirt, sipping beer, which had an odd taste, not as nice as soda pop. He and his friends were standing around a keg, and Lady Gaga was blaring from the speakers.

Some girls from town were there. Spal felt so free—he'd gone to high school and college parties since he was thirteen or so, but he'd always sipped Diet Coke, and looked around nervously, worrying that Mother might show up with a whip...

And of course had scurried home from whatever event they were at around ten forty-five, so he wouldn't break curfew. But tonight was different!

Maisie was behaving herself, bringing Spal's buddies pigs in a blanket on trays, and he was having a great conversation with the beautiful Gwenny Gould about Gwenny's acceptance to law school when things went askew...

In the back of his mind he'd known something would happen, but it had just been denial that had kept him in this happy delusional state.

As Maisie stole up to Spal, he casually took a little hot dog off her tray, while keeping his eyes focused on Gwenny's cleavage, framed in the tube top by her platinum blonde hair.

Spal had always thought Gwen to be the ultimate in hotties here in Buttermilk Falls...and maybe now he'd ask her out...before she went off to Boalt Hall law school in Berkeley, California.

But then Maisie leaned forward and whispered "Spalding...Mother wanted me to give you a message...it's actually about your own graduate school."

Spal shook his head irritatedly at his younger sister.

Sure, she'd paddled his bare ass with a carpet sweeper yesterday morning till Spal was weeping and his butt was bloody...

And he'd forgotten to put the cap on the toothpaste!

But now, she was just a childish annoyance. Really, too young to be attending a party where alcohol was served.

"Look, I don't have time to talk right now, Maze." Spalding said, semi authoritatively. "Why don't you go back in the house and get some more burgers for the grill, huh?"

Maisie smiled and whispered again.

"Mother knows you're psyched about graduate school, and she says if you want to—" But this time Spalding gently shoved Maisie out of the way, nearly spilling her tray.

"What were you saying, Gwenny?" Spal asked with good humor.

"The sis here can get on my nerves sometimes." Spalding had game. Look how Gwen was looking at him.

But Maisie shrugged right behind Spalding and said

"It's about your keys. Mom says do you want them when you go off to grad school at Case Western Reserve next fall."

Spalding's heart froze. His keys?

Gwen of course would think car keys...Mom was giving me custody of THE keys?

Spalding turned and looked at Maisie, utterly ignoring Gwen, who looked puzzled.

"Wh-what about them-the keys?" He was to pack up his battered Volvo and leave for graduate school in thirty days.

He expected to be coming back every grade quarterly period, to have his grades inspected by Mother, with the understanding that if he made his 3.8, he'd be unlocked and allowed to masturbate.

Spal's heart bounced.

But wait, if he was in possession of the keys, he could masturbate all he wanted...

Yes, he could screw a WOMAN, he wouldn't be the oldest virgin in the world, as he thought he was...But why was Mother bringing this up now?

Spalding turned from Gwen and looked at Maisie, and then at Mother, who was leaning against the open door to the back yard party. She was smiling.

Maisie looked up at Spalding.

"Spal, Ma says you're mature enough now to decide when you want to masturbate...

But Ma won't give you the keys unless you show how much reverence you have for her and the family by taking off your clothes and masturbating now, in front of your friends. Just to show Mother that you venerate her."

Spalding thought it over. He wasn't wearing his chastity belt now...shit, he could go away to school and get bolt cutters and unlock the belt if he wanted to...it was a full fellowship, he didn't need Mother at all, or the keys back.

But then he looked at Mother, and looked at his friends...

Yes, and to his appreciative friends surprise, Spalding Tyll sighed, unzipped his jeans at four in the afternoon, and stepped out of them in the spring sunshine. His dick hardened, and Gwenny squealed.

Damn it, Spal thought, as he pulled off his shirt and began jerking his cock...It's always something.