Dolly’s Python

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October 2005

“Hey, it’s Mrs. Tarleton! How’re you doing?” I heard my secretary, Marcia talking and giggling with my wife.

” How’re you, Marcia…you’re the cutest secretary at Cooper, Tarleton and Strowbridge, girl!” I looked up, and there she was, my beautiful girl, Dolly Tarleton, her long, honey blond curls bouncing.

I dropped my work to watch as my lovely wife and Marcia gossiped about the foibles of their favorite hairdresser.

Young Deon, the black head of the copy department stopped to touch my Dolly’s hand.

My face burned in shame as I recalled two weeks before, when Dolly had tied me, naked to a chair in front of her bed, as Deon had had his way with her, and she’d given him a fabulous blowjob.

Deon had been a bit nervous at having the senior partner bound and gagged like this as he cuckolded his beautiful wife, but as Dolly had said

“Darling boy…this is the only time poor Leland gets to see me naked.”

But Dolly hadn’t been entirely naked–she’d kept her panties on, telling young Deon that she was on the rag–so he hadn’t seen her secret.

Still, he’d been allowed to kiss the luscious siliconed breasts, the collagened lips, the beautiful hairless body of my wife…so expensive…but he didn’t know her secret!

Dolly laughed and tittered with Levison, my paralegal and of course old Mr. Strowbridge, the perverted senior partner.

He kept giving her deep “friendly” kisses, and she just giggled and kissed him back, checking me amusedly with one eye…”I caught you!”

Dolly seemed to be saying. She just got such a kick out of it that I desire her so much!

Staring—oh, is it normal for a man to be so attracted to his own wife?

My balls, so full…so swollen with back-loads of cum from months and months of her cruel teasing. And what could I do?

I stare at her…Twice in the past month, she’s been approached by fans who thought she was Heather Locklear or Jeri Ryan.

And once she slept with some guy, a geeky cashier, because he gave her a rose…and what do I get?

Nothing, just the right to support and worship such a stunningly beautiful woman.

God, was Dolly hot oh, my darling girl…that musical laugh! But she could be deadly, too. How she could wield the strap, the cane, more than once, the horsewhip…and the viciousness of Dolly’s Python.

The Python…my mouth watered for the Python!

I thought of the night before, when I’d been trussed like a turkey and Dolly had been running her fingers up and down my poor Willy.

“You want to cum, I know…” she’d breathed in my ear as her nails had scraped the tip of my sweating penis.

Rubbing faster and then slower, again and again, I’d begged her to give me release. But then she’d put the Python in my mouth and it had shut me up…for awhile.

“Such a sad little wormy-boy” my darling Dolly had snickered, tossing her lovely blonde curls as she shoved the Python home.

“You’re just a pitiful slug…a jellyfish without the power to sting. All you’re good for is an open wallet, in my opinion”

There had been tears in my eyes, and she’d laughed uproariously. I was fortunate that she’d laughed, as sometimes Dolly would cane me for being a crybaby!

The Python was truly my Master….

I fantasized about it whenever I ate a banana or chewed beef jerky.

That long, hard, vein colored weapon, oh, how it filled my tender mouth…filled my soul! Oh, my Dolly! How do you do it to me, my Mistress?

I watched as Dolly exchanged flirtatious glances with my admiring young associate attorney, as well as my partners, and the mail clerk.

No evidence of the Python now! She was a magnet for men, my Dolly was. Even if they’d known her secret, she probably still would be.

Oh, the whispers my Dolly gives when she’s a-teasin’. “What’s wrong, Leland? You frustrated because you can’t cum?”

The fingers toying and bouncing along my miserably purple shaft as she chuckles. “Your poor dickie-bird is always locked into that mean old piercing.”

She squeezes my scrotum slightly and sticks a forefinger in my ass, just for a moment. “But you were the one who wanted chastity, who begged for it.” I gasp, and tears run from my eyes.

“You said that you felt like I shouldn’t have to reciprocate when you serviced me…and then you said perhaps you shouldn’t be able to even touch yourself after you’d satisfied me…

Yes, and YOU took me to the piercing studio to get your Prince why are you complaining that you never get to cum?”

She then would grab my swollen, full balls and squeeze to her heart’s content.

“You’re destined maybe to never cum again if that’s what I want.” Miss Dolly would titter as her lovely long nails slightly grazed my frenum, again and again.

“Imagine that, darling…locked in that piercing for the rest of your life, forced to sit down to pee like a girl does.”

Then Miss Dolly laughed, thinking of the time that I’d gone into my bathroom at work to pee…the urinals were empty and the stalls were full…so I peed eskişehir seks hikayeleri my pants just because I couldn’t sit down…

This because having that nasty piercing on my dick means no standing up to pee–which Miss Dolly said is too MALE anyway.

“Locked up for life” she giggled, as she pulled and stroked my tumescent cock, “Except when I unlock you for a little tease/torture…eh?”

And she laughed and laughed. What a cruel princess my darling Dolly can be!

God, that tinkling laugh!

Even after all these years, my dick stiffened against its secure Prince Albert piercing watching Dolly’s boobs bounce in her crop top.

And when she held up a leg to show Marcia her new fishnet hose, I began gasping.

Oh, she was so sexy… I thought again of the night before I’d been tied down, and Dolly’s long nails, then colored Neon Orange, had played and scraped across my thrusting penis for three hours in an evil tease as I’d pulled and strained at the ropes tying my hands.

Dolly would pump, pump, thrust and pull my erection with her soft, if somewhat large hands, and I’d gasp and beg…

Yes, and she’d let go of my poor cock and LAUGH at me, just before wonderful, miraculous release! Would I ever orgasm again?

Every few minutes, I’d be fed the Python, until the Python shot in my mouth. “You made Mr. Happy Spit again, Junior”

Dolly would return to teasing my poor cock just for a little longer… oh. God. Then, just as I was about to cum, Dolly had locked me back in the Prince Albert piercing.

And laughed at my tears, and rolled her beautiful body over to go to sleep. And I’d sucked her to three orgasms before that!

When I’d gone to sleep that night, my jaws had been aching, oh, so painfully.

And my poor penis, locked as it was in the cruel Prince Albert, had throbbed unsuccessfully in its cruel piercing…my balls were so swollen with unsatisfied desire.

And I knew that night, that after all the sucking I’d done, Dolly had left with some young men around eleven-thirty and gone partying at a punk rock dance club downtown.

Which meant she’d probably gotten her rocks off again…oh, it had been so painful, and yes, I’d cried myself to sleep. “The waterworks” as Dolly contemptuously called my emotions…I did cry a lot these days!

Now, Dolly was looking at me, and waving her fingers, tipped with Frosty Cherry polish–I know, as I’d manicured them this morning before work. Dolly smiled at my secretary .

“Marcie, baby I gotta talk to Leland now…hubby’s been a bad boy!” Marcie laughed at this sally, but my blood chilled. It wasn’t a “hey, let’s get lunch” visit to my workplace at all…

“Yeah, honey, just go take the afternoon off, I’ll help Lee with any work he has.” Marcie smiled gratefully as she saw my reluctant assent, and bounced out the door.

Dolly opened my inner office door and pranced in, bouncing her miniskirt about.

“Well, Leland baby, how’s it going?” she asked in a honeyed voice.

“Having a good workday?”

Dolly tossed her peach curls and moved around the side of the desk, gently pulling me out of my chair by my necktie.

Her glossed lips parted as she smiled into my face.

I wanted her so badly–it had been 123 days since I’d last been allowed to have an orgasm–but as sexy as she looked, I knew Dolly was pissed about something.

I could always tell…usually her frown was just one of amused contempt…

I was always cowering in front of her, it seemed, but I could tell there was a bit of teeth gritting going on today, which meant that I would be in serious pain.

But she couldn’t be seriously going to punish me here in my own office!

But she’d locked the door.

And I knew that Dolly had no compunctions about disciplining me in public places. Just the week before, we’d been at the Hecht company, and I’d gotten into a tiff with her about a bright pink shirt she wanted me to buy.

“It’s ridiculously feminine, honey. I can’t wear something like that.”

I’d protested.

“Now, darling. .you know that you’re such a sissy boy, and this shirt will highlight your pink cheeks.”

As Dolly had said this, she’d winked at the young salesman, who had snickered behind his hand.

“No, absolutely not!” I’d insisted.

“Forget it!” Dolly had turned and smiled at the young man.

“Sam, is there a changing room here?” Sam had nodded assent, and Dolly had grabbed me by the ear and dragged me back there as salespeople and customers had stared.

I’d even spotted a shoplifter dropping socks out of the pocket in his jacket, he’d been so amazed!

We’d gotten in there, and Dolly had shut the door.

“Now, Dolly, you have to understand…” I protested. Dolly had sat down and gone through her purse, pulling out her big wooden hairbrush.

“Take down your pants, right now.” she’d said to me with gritted teeth.

Oh, how beautiful she’d looked in her snug white turtleneck and leather miniskirt! “Dolly, I have a right to choose my clothes…and you can’t discipline me here.”

I’d looked quite severely at her, but despite my darling’s feminity, she’d grabbed me and unbuckled my pants, dragging them and my shorts down.

I had known I couldn’t fight her off…Dolly was VERY strong.

“Bend over.” Dolly had grabbed my hair and dragged me across her miniskirted lap.

My pierced organ had been smushed against her leather covered knee, though the miniskirt had been so short that I could also feel her scratchy nylon stockings. WHACK! WHACK!

Thirty I’d gotten, right across my poor bare bottom, and I’d screamed and cried the entire time.

Finally, I’d come out into the store again, buttoning up my pants, tears coursing down my face, as the shoppers watched and giggled, and in front of my bemused Dolly, I’d purchased the brightly colored shirt in three different styles.

I’d not been able to sit in the car to drive home, so Dolly had mercifully allowed me to lie in the back seat…oh it had been so horrible!

But now in the office, it looked like more trouble for me!

“What are you working on, baby?” Dolly’s voice was soft as she read the brief on my desk.

Dolly raised her little voice and read in an amusing staccato..

“The Trustee’s Motion to Open Judgment and for Rehearing of Memorandum Opinion…oh, fascinating, honey…riveting as a matter of fact.”

Dolly smiled up at me. She was so delicious.

What had I forgotten to do? I could see her Adam’s apple pulsing…she was mad.

I was terrified, but I couldn’t quit staring down into my darling Dolly’s cleavage.

“I hate to bother you here at work…you’re so busy while I’m at home…” Dolly paused to apply some lipstick.

Oh, those beautiful lips.

Certainly I’d paid to have collagen put in them, but weren’t they gorgeous with that glossy shine!

“But apparently you forgot to do something, baby” Dolly breathed, flicking her tongue in my ear. Then it came again.

“I was going to meet Jorge for lunch today, don’t you pout…you know I need to have a boyfriend to be satisfied…you don’t do it for me baby…”

Dolly smiled as she put her face closer. “And I looked for the outfits you said you’d ironed last night but..they’re all wrinkled.”

I felt Dolly’s hands briskly undoing my belt, and pulling down my pants and shorts as she continued.

” My lycra mini dress with the sequined front isn’t ironed” Dolly toyed with my cock as it thrust against the evil piercing.

“Nor is my Electric Blue stretch tube outfit.” Her soft fingers tickled my scrotum as I gasped. “

Or even my Vinyl Keyhole Halter dress, or my cotton knit turtleneck.”

WHUMP! Dolly’s knee came up and slammed right into my cock and balls and I fell to the floor of my office moaning.

Tears came out of my eyes, and I heard Dolly’s soft tones change into her deep MALE voice.

“Get your clothes off, you worthless faggot motherfucker! Who the fuck do you think you are?” Brutal kicks from Dolly’s silver glitter go-go boots crashed in my stomach.

That voice…I remembered the first time I’d heard it!

April 1999

“So this is my apartment, do you like it?”

Dolan McIntyre looked around as he walked through my vestibule. His right bicep gleamed with the U.S. Marine Corps “Semper Fi” tattoo, as he flexed in the black tank top that designated him as a Tawse Club bar back.

Dolan’s golden brown handlebar moustache glimmered as he looked around my pretentious little apartment.

He grinned at me. “It’s fancy, real classy, Mr. Tarleton.” “Well, I suppose on a bartender’s salary, you might not be living in a place like this for a while.” I joked.

Dolan smiled

“I’m not even a bartender, just a bar back, Mr. Tarleton. The bartenders get real good tips. Me, I live at my sister’s. Wish I was a corporate lawyer like you, sir.”

Looking at one of my more bizarre Dali prints, he whistled.

“So you got even weirder shit going on for you than being in the bondage scene, huh?”

My throat constricted.

Why had I brought Dolan over? Normally, when I trolled at Tawse, it was to meet a hot girl, who I could train to give me a good whipping–not many women were naturally dominant sexually, I thought.

I’d just broken up with Elspeth, a Tawse Club princess type who’d been fun for two or three months–but she didn’t seem like she really was INTO domming me.

It was more like “Now I spanked you like you wanted, so let’s go to the movies.”

She’d been mystified as to why I’d dumped her–after all, Elspeth was beautiful, and looked great in pleather corsets…but it wasn’t enough.

Dolan cracked the beer that I gave him, and we sat down.

“So are you really interested in this stuff?” Dolan asked me with a grin.

“You know, I’m just working there, at the Tawse Club, sir. The pay’s good…you members have some stiff dues.” Something else was stiff, I felt uncomfortably.

“Really, Dolan, you don’t ever think about how cool it would be–the S&M scene?” I blurted. “It’s kind of glamorous, I think.”

Dolan shook his head.

Recently discharged from the military after fifteen years, he’d just grown out his buzz cut, and I could tell there was a bit of curl in his crop.

“The idea of licking some bitch’s boots–kissing ass, after a hard day’s work, I don’t think so, Mr. Tarleton.”

“Leland–please.” I grinned at Dolan. “But, Dolan, what about being on the other end…wouldn’t you like to have a slave?

Might be fun, you know…a hot girl doing your every whim.

I mean, getting your dick sucked, whipping her ass…don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”

Dolan turned and grinned at me, showing lots of teeth under the bushy handlebar moustache, and again I wondered why I’d invited this guy to hang out at my house.

First, I wasn’t looking for buddies at the Tawse Club, just dominatrix-ish Mistresses…secondly, this fellow was a mere bartender!

But I’d not been able to take my eyes off of him in weeks. What was wrong with me?

Dolan sipped his beer and peered at me.

“Mr. Tarleton–” “Leland, or Lee.” I interrupted. “All friends here.”

Dolan smiled. “Yeah, I suppose I can call you by your first name, considering I’ve watched that chick with the bad dye-job whipping your bare ass–what’s her name?

Elsie? Elspeth. She was a shitty tipper, but I did like watching her beat your ass, no offense sir.”

Hearing Dolan mention this made me feel a bit embarrassed, but I looked straight at Dolan. “

As I said, Leland, it’s not so much that I wouldn’t like whipping some ass, maybe, or having my dick sucked–”

My own dick pulsed against my jockey shorts, looking straight into Dolan’s piercing blue eyes.

“But the fact is, Leland…I don’t like girls. I swing to a different drummer.” My cock was so hard that I forget that Dolan had mixed his metaphors.

“I don’t want to put you off, uh, Leland, but I’m a homosexual, a gay fella. I like guys.” Dolan looked at me earnestly. “I hope that doesn’t creep you out, I’d enjoy your friendship.”

What happened after this I cannot be responsible for…

I have no idea how the next few words came out of my mouth…

I’d been heterosexual my entire forty-two years, and in fact was supporting two ex-wives and five children, expensive little private-school bastards that they were. But my next words to Dolan came out as…

“I’d love to be your slave-boy, Dolan. Please, let me try.”

Dolan looked at me, some what alarmed. What had I done? Jesus, was this going to get around the Scourge Club?

He’s such a big motherfucker. He might even assault me, but I’d like that…ugh.

But Dolan put his beer down and looked at me seriously.

I tried to save the situation.

“I–I’m middle aged, eight years older than you, I–you’re very attractive, and not even into S&M but–” Dolan held up a finger. “Leland, buddy. Don’t apologize.

You’re a good-looking guy–we bar backs call you the Silver Fox, and we all thought you were too good for Elspeth…I’d like try being your um top guy–”

“Master. My Master.” I squeaked.

Oh, my cock was so fucking hard.

Twenty minutes later, I’d stripped naked and was kneeling in front of the assistant bar back at the Scourge Club, trying not to look too desperate.

My dick was straight out, and I looked furtively at him. An experienced Dom would have slapped my face for not staring at the floor, but Dolan just looked at me.

“Wow. What now, Leland? Man, oh man.”

He was confused, but I could see the bulge in his black jeans.

“There’s a thick wooden paddle and a short whip–called a dog whip in the closet, along with some handcuffs, sir.

Miss Elspeth always locked my hands because I tend to squirm, Sir.”

Dolan seemed a bit dazed that the man who he’d called Sir was now calling him Sir.

But he got up and went to the closet, bringing back the necessary implements. He couldn’t get over the dog whip it seemed–

An hour later my butt was scalding from Dolan’s efforts with my Spencer paddle, and I was biting the pillow, while bound naked on the bed.

Dolan had tried the dog whip as well, with interesting results…but now he was toying with my bullwhip, and there were questions in his eyes.

I lay on the bed, moving my hands in the cuffs as Dolan toyed with my marvelous Kangaroo Hide Bullwhip.

“I just don’t want to seriously maim you, Leland.” I smiled gamely.

“Don’t worry, Master Dolan. I’ve gotten it from single-tail lashes, signal whips, snake whips, dog whips, stock whips, target whips, scourges and a hundred different strops, Sir.”

I was nervous myself, but I didn’t want him to be scared off.

“You see, Sir, that whip, like many is made with a handle, a tail and a “cracker” at the tip. That bullwhip is five small whips interwoven into what’s called plaits.”

I felt as if I were teaching a class, albeit being bound naked on the bed, as my new, young Master strutted back and forth in his tank top and black jeans.

Oh, he was so sexy!

“You should take a stance as if you were fly-fishing…swing the whip out and let it land on my back, or my buttocks, wherever you wish to punish, Sir.”

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