The Tutor of Buttermilk Falls

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Mistress Fanchon raises some heck!
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Alfred Nemirow rubbed his throbbing dick tentatively, and gave Fanchon an imploring look. His wife of three years was impervious to such looks,but Alf tried anyway. He looked down at the steaming Starbucks cup, and then checked the mirrors of the Mitsubishi Galant...was anyone looking?

God knows no one wanted to catch Kissler Systems's head Accounting and Financial Recruiter commiting an act of obscenity right outside the damn office...even if he was with his gorgeous wife!

"P-please Fanchon." Alf said. "Can't we do it some other way?"

Fanchon grinned. "Sure, Alf. But then you have to wait another month. You know the rule...You want me to lock you up? I sure will, but you seemed to really want to release, honey. If you want to orgasm, you have to do it the way Fanchon tells you, dear."

There were worse things that jerking off into your fresh cup of Starbucks Chi Latte...but Alf couldn't really think of what they were now. Especially in the parking lot of your office. What if someone looked into the car?

Oh Jesus, Leon Bengivenga is walking by...he's going to look in the fucking car! "Hey there, Alf!" Bengivenga screamed, looking Fanchon's side window. He then pretended to notice Fanchon for the first time, though Alf and Fanchon both knew that Bengivenga had the total hots for Alf's shapely redheaded wife.

Alf stuffed his dick back into his zipper as Bengivenga stuck his head in the car. Bengivenga, while staring straight at Fanchon's cleavage, made small talk. "We sure miss Alf on the Kissler softball team, Fanchon...his pitching helped us beat Wibley Incorporated last summer."

Fanchon smiled at Bengivenga, licking her lower lip. "Yeah, I know, Leon,but Alf has way too much to do at home. We just don't have time for him to do softball, darts leagues, bowling, poker and all that other happy horseshit. You understand."

Alf sighed. This was true. When Alf had married Fanchon, he'd been quite the playboy--bimbos, fun with the guys, whatever. Alf was the stud of Buttermilk Falls--everyone said so! And Fanchon had really been nice about him having a few nights out now and then even after they were married....

But then Alf had asked Fanchon to spank him one night. He'd put other women off with this weird request, but Fanchon had taken Alf's pants down, tied his shirtsleeves in a little bow around his belly, and thrown him across her knee, pounding his buttocks until they were nearly purple with an old thick square wooden hairbrush.

Fanchon had then just sat patiently and watched Alf, kneeling on the floor with his pants around his ankles, weep into his hands. She didn't bother to comfort him or even pat him on the back...

Alf's former girlfriend, Lucinda Marie had asked all these questions about "why do you want to be hurt like that?" and then she'd hit him lightly, and he'd had to ask her to hit harder...she only used her hand, and then just barely and then FINALLY she'd hit him hard enough...and then when Alf had cried, Lucinda Marie had cried harder, and it was just not worth it!

Alf had finally gotten up, and blown his nose...and then taken Fanchon and fucked the daylights out of her that night...then he'd asked her how she'd known what he really wanted when he asked for a spanking.

Fanchon had smiled, as she'd lay in Alf's arms. "Honey, I've had several boyfriends before you who were into that...I whipped their asses with a belt a number of times...and we did other fun stuff.. So I don't mind us doing it, either."

Alf had thought that was amazing. He'd lost more than one girlfriend because they'd believed he needed some sort of therapy....it was very rare to find someone who could give him a little punishment. He'd had to resort to dominatrixes...they were expensive!

But as Alf had become more and more submissive to Fanchon, she'd taken his privileges away...now he was only allowed to watch the Super bowl, no other sports games, and he was NEVER allowed to go out with the boys...too much housework!

Now, FINALLY, Bengivenga shut up, and said goodbye, and went into the building after giving Fanchon one of those "You ought to dump this lucky shmuck and run off with me!" What a moronic Beta male.

Fanchon waved goodbye to Bengivenga, her purple nails flashing in the reflection of the car window. She turned to Alf. "Are you going to squirt or should I lock you up again, Alfred? I need to take the car and do some shopping...C'mon, jerk off into the latte, drink up, and I'll lock you up or...I'll lock you up NOW..."

But then she leaned towards Alf and ran her long purple nails across his bulging, (also purple) cock. "Don't you want to have a spurtee, baby?" Fanchon asked, breathing the words into Alf's ear. "You've been complaining for thirty days about how horny you are...or don't you need to cum now?"

Fanchon stroked and pumped Alf's cock a bit, and Alf bit his lower lip to keep from cumming in her hand. He knew what would happen then...Fanchon had once beaten Alf's balls with a steel claw hammer when he'd lost control during one of her long and lustrous teasing sessions.

Fanchon leaned across to Alf's seat and gave him a long tongue kiss as she jerked him faster and faster, and she unbuttoned another button on her top, and her breasts almost fell out...her full round boobs were just incredible!

And then suddenly, he felt the surge...it was coming. "Fanchon I'm about to cum--"

Fanchon pulled her hand away and casually slapped Alf's face and he winced, and burst into tears. But it did the trick and his penis shriveled.

"Jesus, Alf, you're such a little faggot." Fanchon said dismissively. "You cry at the drop of a hat...it's kind of disgusting."

Why did she have to be so mean? Alf wondered this. Her constant teasing sessions were great, but whenever she jerked her hand away, telling him she was tired after 2 hours or so...and locked him up, she'd laugh in his face if he looked sad. What kind of a wife does that?

Months and months of chastity--well years of it now, almost two years--had made Alf patient for the rare orgasms Fanchon allowed him. She'd first looked askance when Alf had begged her to put him in chastity, after the spankings went so well.

"You sure about this, Alf?" Fanchon had asked. "You know, my old boyfriend Dunstan was into this too...but it's my rules, if you really, REALLY want this." Did he want it? He'd wondered.

Fanchon had just been teasing him for long periods of time while he pretended to be tied up...and then when it was time for him to cum, he'd mount her...and it was fun...getting his orgasm on after all that...a harsh spanking, a teasing and then fucking!

But Fanchon had told Alf on more than one occasion that his dick really didn't make HER cum, and so he'd begun licking between her legs...her initial rule was "If you can't make me cum at least three times with your tongue, I'm not going to let you fuck me."

And she meant it! If she only came twice, she'd turn over and go right to sleep...Alf sometimes would sneak in the bathroom and jerk off, but then one night Fanchon caught him, and she'd given him a vicious thrashing with her slipper, and tied his hands for the rest of the evening...

And then the next night, she'd felt his balls and accused him (rightly) of jerking off in the bathrooms at work! That had resulted in another spanking, this time with the pancake spatula (Fanchon used whatever was in reach...and they'd been in the kitchen.)

So Alf had told Fanchon of his chastity fantasies, and they'd ordered a belt together. Or Fanchon had ordered it; she seemed to know a lot about that stuff. She'd locked Alf up, and then ordered him to lick her and make her cum three times.

But the problem is, of course, a woman doesn't always feel like cumming. Fanchon had cum twice that night, Alf had gone to bed orgasmless...and suffered during the day watching Kissler Systems's hot little secretaries walking back and forth in the office! No running to the lavatory to wank off then!

The next night, he'd brought Fanchon to two orgasms again, and when he'd pouted as she turned over to go to sleep, she'd become annoyed, and she'd tweaked one of his nipples, HARD, and told him to quit his bitching.

Alf hated it when a woman said he was bitching. It was such a feminine term, you know? But he'd rubbed ice on his nipple and gone to sleep in the chastity belt, which he was really beginning to hate.

The next night, Alf had brought Fanchon to three orgasms, and she'd unlocked his belt...but she wouldn't fuck him...she was tired. "Just jerk off quickly and I'll lock you up again. And hurry."

Alf suggested timidly that she go to sleep, and he'd take care of himself, but Fanchon was not going to let him jerk off several times. He had to do it once and lock up...immediately! So he'd done so...and what a hot orgasm it was!

He'd thrown away the soiled Kleenex, and Fanchon had locked him up once more, telling him. "Now I don't want you to ask for any more orgasms this week. I want you to give me three orgasms a night until next Friday (this was on Wednesday) not this Friday, and then I'll let you fuck me NEXT Friday, if you've been a good boy."

And she'd rolled over and gone to sleep!

To say she made it difficult for him with all the teasing and denial was an understatement...and was she manipulative! Cruel, almost.

One time, when Alf had been 24 days orgasm-less, it was bringing him down...it was only six more days until he'd be allowed to jerk off, as by that time Fanchon had shut her pussy down to him except for Christmas and his birthday...and he was getting depressed.

That night Fanchon sat down next to Alf, and was rubbing his back. "What's wrong, honey? You've got the blues, huh? Can you tell me about it?" There was true compassion in her gorgeous Italian-Irish brown eyes.

Alf almost spoke, then hesitated. "I-I don't think I can talk about it. You told me not to, you said you were sick of hearing about it and--"

Fanchon shook her head. "Whaddya mean? You can tell Fanchon anything...I love you, Alfred, and I want you to be happy. If you can't talk about things with your spouse, what can you do?"

Alf smiled. "You-you mean it? You don't mind hearing about my problem?"

Fanchon had given Alf a long kiss. "Tell me, baby. What's wrong?"

"I'm just depressed about wearing the chastity belt so long. I know it was my idea, and all, but I-it's really difficult to go a whole month without an orgasm, and especially since I can't stick my dick in your tight little vagina anymore, honey...that's what it was--you know?"

Fanchon had smiled and kissed him harder. "Of course! And why were you so reticent to talk about it with me, darling?" She patted his crotch and gave him an impish grin.

Wow! Was Fanchon softening up? Maybe she'd--give him a break, maybe even FUCK him. "Well, Fanchon, you know you said if I even mentioned wanting to get out of the chastity belt, you'd give me another thirty days to be locked up, and that's why I was scared to talk to you about it---so I was trying to be strong and silent and wait out my six days until I get to masturbate , but---"

Fanchon smiled, pooching out her full lower lip. "Baby...of course you can always talk to me, I love you so much! I really appreciate you being able to open up to me and I know it will be hard to wait out the next thirty-six days, but I am glad it helps to talk about it."

Alf had babbled with relief at first. "I'm-I'm so glad you understand, Fanchon, and maybe we can--thirty-six days til my masturbation date? No, honey, it's only six days, right?"

Fanchon shook her head, smiling. "No no, you broke the rule, honey. You mentioned it, and I have to enforce boundary violations. Since you mentioned your stress at not having an orgasm, that means you have another thirty-six days to wait. But I am so glad you talked to me about this...it's great we can communicate."

Alf had burst into tears. "But-but I wasn't complaining about not being able to cum, Fanchon! You asked me why I was so depressed, and told me I could tell you, and so I told you about my sexual frustration. It's not fair to give me another month of chastity, honey! Puh-please don't..."

Fanchon had clicked her tongue. "No honey. I'm worried about you, and I want my hubby happy, but I did make that rule...if you mentioned your frustration or hinted in any way about wanting to get out early, that was another thirty days. That's the rule. Now why don't we just change the subject...oh, you're not having a tantrum, are you?

Am I going to have to get out my whip and my big dildo...and maybe my enema kit to calm you down?"

And he'd just gone to bed and cried himself quietly to sleep!

Now, sitting in the car, Alf looked sadly at his bloated cock...it had filled with blood again after a minute or so, and he was so, SOOO horny. Fanchon was looking at her watch. "I got to get out of here, Alfred. Are you going to squirt or not?"

Alf shook his head, miserably. "Fanchon, I knock myself out at work, turn over my paychecks, I service you every night...and sometimes you seem suspiciously sticky down there, like you're seeing someone...you've not fucked me in a year...and you won't even let me jerk off in a handkerchief. Why does it have to be in my coffee?"

Fanchon became annoyed. She reached into her purse and got out her square wooden hairbrush. "That's it. I'm so fucking sick of your attitude. Take your pants down RIGHT NOW, and get over my lap. Right here in the car."

Alf looked at the hairbrush and looked scared. "It's-its okay. I'll jerk off in the coffee, we can't-can't do that in public." He looked into Fanchon's eyes and saw granite

"Nope. You've lost your right to cum this month. I'm going to lock you the fuck up...for thirty more days." Fanchon smiled. "But you're also going to get a thrashing. Get your pants down, now, take your seat belt off, and lean across my lap. 20 hard ones with my brush, before you go to work."

Alf began begging. "P-please Fanchon. You're not going to let me cum for another month--AND a spanking? P-please Fanchon don't-don't..." Alf's eyes filled with tears, and Fanchon tapped her square wooden hairbrush.

"You'd better get across my lap now...it's 40 whacks and if you're not across my lap in fifteen seconds, PANTS DOWN and underwear, it will be sixty, and I'll do it with your belt while you lean over the hood like we did on the way back from your parents on Highway 33!"

Finally Alf unbuckled his seat belt and took his pants down, lifting his butt up as he rolled down his undies. He'd done this in the car before--once he'd been speeding, and Fanchon had made him take off everything from the waist down just so he would drive at a civilized pace...and not risk being stopped by a cop.

So finally Alf, after giving Fanchon a final pleading look, lifted himself up and lay across her formidable lap. She was wearing a denim miniskirt over her long tanned legs, and he was instantly aroused, but after he lay across, opening his door for more leg room in the cramped Mitsubishi, Fanchon began whacking away.

About five minutes later, the car ejected a weeping Alf, who was pulling up his pants, and then Fanchon drove off, whistling. TWO Kip Sobieski watched the Mitsubishi drive away, and watched the poor guy walk, rubbing his butt into the office building. Jesus, that woman Fanchon hadn't changed! His mind went back to years ago, when he'd been a reporter for "In the Bedroom" magazine...

God, those were wild times! Now Kip was a columnist for restaurant-supplies weekly, but back then he'd really enjoyed his early journalism. Kip had run into his old roommate from Buttermilk State,30 year old Flanders Cimelde, and Flan had been quite excited to hear about Kip's reporting for a sex mag..."Have I got a story for you!"

Kip had laughed when Flan told him about Fanchon, his 22 year old girlfriend who was a dominant of some sort. They had had dinner once and Kip had thought the demure redhead was really sweet, and easy on the eyes, but a dominant?

But a story was a story, so he went over to their place one night. It had to be better than the midget he'd interviewed who blew donkeys on a beet farm, right? They sat and had drinks, and Flan seemed almost over-eager in discussing BDSM.

Fanchon sat there, calmly sipping Merlot as Flan went on about how he was a submissive, and how Fanchon was really good at making him submit, but it didn't make any difference in their professional equality as a couple, blah blah. Kip always did think Flan talked too much.

But he politely made some notes...Fanchon finally looked at him, she'd been crossing and re-crossing her legs on the sofa all night as Flan babbled beside her.."Say, Flan, honey. Why don't we give Kip a demonstration, do you want to? A spanking, perhaps?"

Suddenly, Flanders quieted down. He laughed nervously and looked over at Kip--they were on the couch and he was across the coffee table on a chair--but then he said, "Yeah, maybe...just for fun. Kip, you probably don't believe people do this, maybe a hand-spanking."

Fanchon shook her head, smiling. "No, honey, go get my big square wooden hairbrush. It's in the bedroom, go on." Flanders laughed nervously and went to get the hairbrush, and when he came back, he was about to lie across Fanchon's knees.

"C'mon, Flan, take 'em down. Kip's a guy just like you are, he's seen a man's butt before." Fanchon smiled, but it didn't sound like a request...and it wasn't! Flan dropped his pants--Kip was amused to see little purple chimpanzees on Flan's boxers-- and then, after a look from Fanchon, he pulled his boxers down, too.

God, Kip thought. His dick is hard--is he gay or something? But Flan lay across Fanchon's lap and grinned over at Kip, looking a bit ridiculous, as it was weird to see a guy with a beard and ponytail bent over for a spanking.

"You see, Kip, this is the way my chick punishes me...I'm a bad boy!" The joviality was still in Flan's voice as Fanchon brought the big square wooden hairbrush down on Flan's pale asscheeks the first time. "Oooh, honey. A little hard, but hey, I can take it!"

Flanders kept talking to Kip as the girl, her large chest heaving attractively in the snug baby pink angora sweater, slapped the hairbrush down again and again. And again.

"Yeah (slap) Kip (slap, WHACK!) I got to (WHACK WHACK) watch my P's (WHACK) and Q's (WHACK WHACK) you know?" Flan said as his eyes began to water. The brush began gradually turning Flan's ass pink, and the girl didn't neglect his upper thighs, either.

"It's (WHACK WHACK) just a game, really (WHACK WHACK) right honey? (WHACK WHACK!) Kip WHACK WHACK understands that WHACK WHACK I'm really a WHACK WHACK regular guy. This is WHACK WHACK just a kinky game WHACK WHACK we play, and um, baby you're hitting awfully hard for this interview. Kip are you taking pictures?"

Yes, Kip had brought along his Iphone and yes, he was taking shots of Flan's bottom, which was now quite a misty red, with little tiny purple blotches. Fanchon was hitting and hitting, but still kind of looking at Kip in a seductive way...it seemed almost like Fanchon and Kip were adults now, and Flan was just a weepy, naughty boy...

Because now he was crying! Kip didn't understand why Flan didn't just push himself off the bitch's lap, but he just lay there and was sobbing, outright sobbing as the large square wooden hairbrush turned his butt from light red to dark red to purple.

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justincbenedictjustincbenedictabout 8 years agoAuthor
Thank you for your criticism

You are right. I write about what gets me off. Look up the word "paraphilia" Pre-internet, I spent years trying to find stories that excited me--I had to go to New York to get those ridiculous "Dominant Domain" newsletters, and half the time they didn't have what I wanted, but I couldn't find that out because of the staples. It was like finding out you'd bought oregano at a rock concert. I like reading the same versions of sex in different storylines. There are a lot of writers here that write the same stuff I do, bakeboss, malibuman (now Robert Anthony) tomtame, etc. We write for a specific kind of people. Perhaps I should put warnings up, as I've seen other writers do-- but 90 percent of what I read here does nothing for me. That's why I use STORY TAGS to find what I like. If you'll notice, there are a quiet few who just "favorite" my stories because they like the same stuff. Why don't people get this? I have been reading a weird strain of stories about a wife cuckolding her husband and "Forcing' him into transvestite wear; and then the husband "Gets back" at the wife. It's ridiculous. People who are into this kind of thing are mostly men, and they have to beg their wives to do this to them. Statistically, I read women fantasize about being enslaved by men and women, men and women fantasize about enslaving women, and men fantasize about being enslaved by women. Rarely does a woman want to dominate a man. It's just the way things are. Use the story tags.

gentleoneexplorergentleoneexplorerabout 8 years ago
Everything You Write is Almost The Same

I have not written here and am not sure I could but if I did I would not continually submit the same type of story. You get off on female domination and you like to humiliate, and without release as well. It is in almost everything you write. Can you find something else that you like to write about. It is not bad once and a while but a continuous stream of it is annoying.

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