Message-ID: <21675asstr$944507403@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: np98rb@mail.telepac.pt (Christine & David Stevenson) Subject: {ASSM} The Governor's Wife - Part Twenty-three Lines: 140 X-Original-Message-ID: <384ba8da.61164398@news.telenet.pt> Date: Mon, 6 Dec 1999 14:10:03 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: kelly, gill-bates Warning: This story is about non-consensual domination. It is fiction, but it is erotic - despite or perhaps partly because it is non-consensual. Copyright: Victor Bruno. http://www.mschristine.com/bruno.html The Governor's Wife by Victor Bruno Part Twenty-three Frank's eye's closed. He didn't think he could stand much more. His mouth champed on the sodden ball in his mouth. Her knickers. Did she know, or care, that already they were half choking him? A fist thumped Frank painfully on the nose. "Eyes open," snapped Hettie. Then she began to unbutton her black blouse. "So I'll want complete freedom" she went on. Frank gazed helplessly at the high, rounded breasts revealed. They thrust prominently, held in a lacy half-cup brassiere, the dark nipples pert. It was, of course, ridiculous to suggest that the blouse hindered her in any way. Frank realised that, once again, Hettie was taunting him with her so-desirable body. The short red skirt was unfastened and slipped down. The long-legged Hettie stepped out wearing a pair of panties of the same lacy material as the brassiere. They were so brief they might have been classed as a G-string. Smiling provocatively, Hettie gyrated her hips, rather like some stripper. "Nice, eh Frank?" she enquired. "Make you feel you'd like another toss, Frank?" No one could have been more aware than Frank of the effect this cruel temptress was having on him. The steel ring about his organ was cutting agonizingly as he swelled uncontrollably. He whinnied with pain. "O.K. Frank, playtime's over," said Hettie with sudden sharpness. "Now you're going to get what you deserve." Every nerve in Frank's body seemed to scream silently. Even more so when his swollen length was gripped again. "My God .... even now, you're still lusting!" cried Hettie in mock amazement. "Oh yes, wanker, you really do deserve what's coming to you!" - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Hettie laid on the first six strokes from Frank's left hand side.... using, as she had promised, all the force at her command. She grunted with effort as, at five-second intervals she whiplashed the rod down, ensuring that the whippy tip bit cruelly into Frank's right flank. She started at the centre of Frank's rump and worked down, spacing the strokes about an inch apart. As each vivid, twin-tracked weal leapt up from the flesh (or so it seemed) Frank's head jerked back and forth and he tugged frenziedly at his bonds. Unable to bellow his pain, the sound was converted to high-pitched jetting sounds down his flared nostrils.... sounds not unlike short blasts on a pea-whistle. He had known it was going to be bad .... But not as bad as this! How was he possibly going to stand twenty four? After the sixth stroke, Hettie walked round to Frank's right hand side. Her rounded breasts were heaving, her eyes bright with sadistic joy. "Just a warm-up, wanker," she said. "It's the last dozen which are really going to hurt!" It could not be true! Nothing could hurt more! Surely .... surely .... not .... In the same measured way, Hettie laid on another six, the zippy tip this time biting into Frank's left flank. She covered the same area and, with consummate skill born of experience, she contrived to place the new weals between the old ones. Frank's jerking and tugging became even more frenzied; but no matter what he did, it was of no avail and his hindquarters remained securely and squarely presented. The white slip across his mouth was sodden with tears when Hettie came round to the front after the twelfth stroke. "Feel like wanking again, Frank?" she demanded, seizing him by a hank of hair and shaking his head. Frank turned his head wildly from side to side to indicate he certainly did not. Hettie smiled. "No ...." she said, "and you won't ever do it again in my home, not when I've finished with you." Frank's eyes were out like organ-stops, quite frantic in their silent pleading .... and he whimpered and whined without ceasing. A gutless creature, reflected Hettie, certainly compared with Robert. Still, she'd known others equally gutless and, in any event, twenty four from her was no laughing matter. Tapping the cane in the palm of her hand, she walked slowly back round the block. One long urgent whine was now coming from Frank's nostrils. "Now," said Hettie, "as I say, this is when it really hurts. Because you get them in the same place, all over again...." URL Bruno Books Email Bruno List ------------------------------------------------------ Warning! Turns your wife/lover into a Dominatrix. The Fem Dom Training Software. http://www.mschristine.com/program.html mailto:program@Ms-Christine.com ------------------------------------------------------ The DOMestic digest is free of charge. Subscribe in subject line:- DOMestic@Ms-Christine.com Moderated by David & Christine Stevenson. Subscribe online at http://www.mschristine.com/domestic.html ------------------------------------------------------ The DOMestic discussion list has been going well over two and a half years now, and the password site now has over 2,500 files with pictures, articles and over 250 stories for $25 on CD-ROM http://www.mschristine.com/cd.html -- If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments are their only payment. 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