Wendy Pt. 02

Well, I blew it, I wanted something soft and loving with my little Russian Dolly. I'm pretty sure she saw me as an old predatory witch. However I was kind to her, and I fed and clothed her, well I supplied the raw materials, she turned it into delicious meals. She was comfortable and relaxed in my house and happy enough to trade access to her pussy and her attention to mine for food clothing and warmth. This wasn't very far away from my relationship with Arty, except she was truly stuck with me.

If she ran away, where would she go? She was an illegal alien, the bastard bunch of traffickers who smuggled her into the country would want to make an example of what happens to a runaway. Finally the whorehouse who bought her were a few quid out on the deal I'm sure they wanted some form of retribution.

She told me she had shacked up with some drug addict who let some very undesirables have access to her body so he could get a fix or two. He did teach her where to get the out-of-date food, that was in the bins behind the supermarket. Milly had the where-withal to eat the pre-packaged stuff. That kept body and soul together for her, some days she even found bottles of Coke a Cola and Fanta in the big waste food giant wheelie bin.

Mike, her pimp, for want of a better word just disappeared one day. When she told me she was very matter of fact about it. I rightly or wrongly assumed that was par for the course for a drug user. He went off to try to score and never came back. He left her with the knowledge of where to get food from, a sleeping bag and tentative possession of an old shed. That was no longer used by the supermarket handyman cum maintenance guy. She gave both the maintenance man and the security guy a blow job and let them fuck her whenever they came up with condoms. She inferred she had herpes so they were willing to pay for condoms, or nick them from the store.

She had managed to keep herself clean, I took her to a walk-in clinic to make sure of that. My plan was to visit my doctor with her later for other stuff. He has private patients like me, and he is a greedy bastard and will do anything if he is getting paid. I managed to keep her out of my dungeon and away from cunt. That was all very well, untill I caught the flue. I had not had my jab at the chemist this year and would regret that as things went on.

Milly put me to bed and called my doctor one Wednesday afternoon. I had not felt well at breakfast time and not eaten the scrambled egg and slice of toast she had made me. I got progressively worse and don't remember the doctor calling. This was flu, not a bad cold, real flue and a bad strain at that. My next memory was when I woke up three days later. Milly had nursed me, kept me hydrated and even managed to get a little chicken soup inside me on a couple of occasions. I remembered nothing untill Saturday morning.

When she wasn't there, and she wasn't there for an hour I was just about to crawl from under my nice warm duck-down quilt when she stomped into my bedroom cursing in Russian, I had learned a few choice words from her, it's fun to curse in other languages.

It took me a few moments to realise that while I was out of it, she had discovered my dungeon and its occupant. Luckily for me and because I'm such a useless fucker it didn't have a key for Milly to find, it had a fingerprint padlock on his cage. I had all sorts of shit myself scares, I needn't have worried. Well maybe I did, I think now if she had got in she may have killed him. Cunt and Mike, her pimp were one and the same, cuntymike, was cowering in the back of his cage trying to get away from my soft little Russian Dolly. Only she wasn't a Russian Dolly now, and soft, once many years ago maybe. There was a couple of kitchen knives in the cage with him, Milly had tried to cut the bastard but he had grabbed the knives and twisted them out of her grip, his hands were bleeding and there was red stuff everywhere. I panicked again for a bit untill I discovered that non of the red stuff was Millie's.

After a second or two I started to think again, picked up the taser with the flying head and shot the bastard with it. Milly nearly pissed herself laughing when he did the stagger, jump and twitch dance when the voltage fucked him up. The knives were worrying me so with the prongs still stuck in his belly I opened the door and together we had him on the Saint Andrews cross before I had to zap him again. I realised Milly thought just as much of cuntymike as I did when she zaped the bastard again, just after he came round. Milly's accent gets worse when she is excited, she sounded like a baddy in a John Wick movie. I fucking kill him, I kill him she screamed.

I managed to get the tazer out of her grip and swapped it for a Night Watchman Sjambok I bought but never used on Arty. Don't kill him I said and sat down to watch her reduce his back to a bloody mess. He stabbed me in the neck and I did some terrible things to him. God only knows what he did to Milly but she would have beaten him to death with that whip if I'd have given her a free hand. I was still feeling very weak but I pushed her onto the bed and made a pig of myself eating her split peach. When I was finished with her I had turned her into a lump of boneless mush, just after she regained the power of speech, she returned the favour.

Milly woke me in the morning at 7AM. Not usually a good move. I don't get out of bed well anytime, I get out of bed like a complete bitch if someone wakes me before 9AM. I did say I'm a lady of leisure. Milly decided some time ago that I was a lady, OK, she has a failure to grasp the reality that I am a council estate kid with elocution lessons and a bank account full of someone else's money. She has her illusions, who am I to debase her of them.

She was bursting to grill me on cuntymike, but she had my breakfast in bed tray. Toast, with Waitrose whey butter, scrambled egg with smoked salmon. Very good Coffee and she had found a source for the best homemade marmalade I have ever tasted. I'll have to give this girl a raise, or maybe I'll just let her sit on my face for an hour, she has the sweetest quim I've ever tasted.

The last bit would have to wait, her little brown ring was making buttons wanting to know what we were going to do with cuntymike. One of my very few friends is a girl called Julie. She is on her own these days, her man Bobby, had a heart attack and they say he was dead when he hit the floor. Julie has a pub, a big old-fashioned drum, that's what we Yorkshire folk call the boozers that were the centre of village life. This one was the best drum for miles. Julie ran Friday and Saturday night dances there. First Friday night of the month was a Britpop dance, first Saturday night was a seventies disco night. There was a couple of live groups a month. Two Jive nights, northern soul and a couple of mixed pre nineties nights. I was currently teaching Milly how to jive. The old boys felt us both up but you have to love an old pervert don't you.

Milly was very concerned cuntymike was going to blow her new life up. I told her I was never going to let that happen, I knew some very bad men, old friends of Arty who would not have an ounce of regret disappearing him, for good. If she wanted, I could arrange that now but I did like keeping the bastard in pain and suffering and if left to my own devices, I'd keep him like that for many years to come. Having just found out his recent history with my little Russian Dolly his sentence had grown, not shrunk. When my little Dolly said can we whip him again my cup did run over.

When we found the dreadful state we left him in last night I made Milly keep it fairly light. We put him in the horizontal pillory but didn't stress him too much, well we thought he wasn't stressed too much, what he thought, well who gives a flying fuck. I introduced Milly to the noble art of beat-down orgasm control. Milly took to it like a duck to water, she teased him to erection, then edged him with her fingers and surprised me by tickling his prepuce with her tongue. When she had a constant dribble of precum running from his japs eye, I took over and whipped his cock with a nasty vicious quirt untill his erection completely subsided.

We went downstairs and had coffee and cake, he had water and dry bread. We did it again, but reversed our rolls. We beat him down five times, but each one took an hour or more, we didn't get him hard for the fifth untill Milly got him up with her mouth. I let her beat him down for the final time, there was no way that cunts nob was going in my mouth.

I'm beginning to realise my Milly has a sadistic streak, as I have as well, I want to keep us both happy, I'm looking into how we can expand our fun by including a willing male sub or two. I'm not getting my money's worth out of the dungeon. Well actually I'm not getting Arty's money's worth out of the dungeon. I need a little isolation cell to put cuntymike in while Milly and I play with a boy-toy.

My solution, as with anything else was to throw money at it. My dungeon takes up less than half of the attic space, I needed a small room building in the unoccupied part that I could convert into somewhere cuntymike could spend nights alone, uncomfortable and cold. Meanwhile Milly and I had fun doing some fairly lightweight damage to the nether regions of the vast army of young well-hung men. Who, Milly assured me were looking for encounters with a leather clad whip wielding MILF and her gorgeous skimpy dressed assistant Robinett. Did I say I have a Catwoman fixation.

My lovely handy-woman builder knocked through the brease block wall and using more blocks built a cupboard, a wet room and another room where I intended to put some very scary furniture. There was absolutely no chance of this stuff ever being used for its ultimate purpose, I wanted cuntymike to continue to suffer at our hands, beatdowns and other orgasm denial tactics are fun if you hate the recipient. No, the first thing I had made was a replica of the guillotine that once stood in the grounds of Palace de la Bastille. Obviously, the blade travel was truncated because of my roof height restrictions. but as it was just to scare the shit out of cuntymike that didn't matter. Most of the other instruments of human dispatch I had made were completely working replicas of the real thing.

I had two garrottes, one a copy of the device in the interrogation rooms of the Doge's palace. A bit of a disappointment for two reasons. One, the executioner could not see the executionee while he was suffering. I said I wasn't going to use these items for their ultimate use but I wanted to see the fear on him. Two, cuntymike had never heard of the interrogation rooms of the Doge's palace. He had however seen the James Bond film "The World Is Not Enough", and knew all about Elektra King's claim that the device was an antique torture chair. It was according to the script of the film found during archaeological excavations near the Maiden's Tower in Istanbul.

Cuntymike never really enjoyed the re-enactment where he played Pierce Brosnan's James Bond roll, Milly or I, played Sophie Marceau's roll of Electra King. Millie played the exicutionatrix first. I nearly spoiled it, I wet myself laughing when Milly gave cuntymike Electra's line, "just four more turns, and your neck will brake". Then she added and don't be expecting Hagrid to come and rescue you, he thinks you're a scummy cunt as well. That was the point where I wet my knickers.

I had a replica of old sparky, the first electric chair in New York. That one didn't work the first time, mine could never work, even cuntymike knew my household electric supply would never do the job but it did give me an idea.

My poor Arty had died of problems arising from cancer of his man bits. As I have said repeatedly, I didn't want cuntymike dead. It had been over a year and the only release he had was wet dreams. That just wasn't good enough. So, one day while Milly was strapping cuntymike into the mini guillotine, oh did I forget to tell you about that one. It was designed to castrate, or remove part or all of its victim's cock, or have the lot away. Well while my Russian Dolly was arranging his tackle, so that should the blade fall cuntymike would lose his middle man plumb I had a brilliant idea.

A month or two ago Milly and I went to a demo in the concert room of my friend Julie's pub, she hosts the South Yorkshire Perverts Party. It's just a local munch but a good one. It was given buy a girl selling electro stim devices. She sold it to me by telling me the settings had to be just so to work on a man. Too gentle and he could be on it for a month of Sundays and he wouldn't cum, too strong, it would be absolute agony, but it would be like cleaning his tubes with sulphuric acid. I bought a stim unit and every electrode she had.

I have only ever used two on Cuntymike, one is a gold contact surface on a but-plug. It is designed to sit on his prostate. It's mate, electricity needs flow between two points, is a urethra probe, that I thread up his pipe untill he yelps. This girl understood me, I told her about Arty, but left out the bit about him dying and me replacing him with an unwilling prisoner. Well, without a single mishap or one fried man-nut I emptied his reservoir.

The great idea I had about sparky was I strapped cuntymike into my Sparky prior to stealing his man juice. I have to admit I was a bit slow as to how to dispose of it. I was going to flush it away, Milly was horrified at the thought of it. I had a piss feeding gag. We substituted a syringe for the pressure piss bottle and cuntymike took care of his own waste product.

Before I let this bit go I have to tell you more about the cock and ball guillotine, it has a trigger on one of the slides. It is spring loaded so once the blade is cocked, ha ha pun intended, the tether on the trigger needs a tug to cock it. Then the lanyard has to be kept taught or the blade drops. The blade arrangement weighs five pounds and drops six feet. A bit of blood, skin and gristle ain't stopping that blade. Cuntymike of course knows this so when Milly puts the lanyard in his mouth. Cuntymike knows if he relaxes his bite, it's by-bye to whatever Milly has carefully arranged on the bottom blade. My personal favourite is a tiny noose Milly made, she tightens it around his bell end. He is never sure, because he cannot see the bottom blade clearly what part of his tackle is under threat. I've got to say Milly always makes it interesting for him. I crept in behind him once and gave him a shot on his brownie with a cattle prod. He couldn't help himself and cried out in pain. The noose was tied so the blade cut the cord and missed his bell-end by a couple of millimetres. The final thing about this fun toy is the safety, it stops the blade dead when the blade is an inch or so from the target. Its been used once or twice but idiot-boy cuntymike hasn't realised there is a safety there yet. He thinks something went wrong, nothing will go wrong untill we have a replacement for him.

That's perhaps not as far away as I used to think, Milly is finding boy-toys aplenty on line. I don't seem to have my finger on the pulse these days. Why oh why would an eighteen-year-old boy with muscles in his piss and a nice big chopper that is actually worth locking away for later, want a forty year old, old boiler like me when a tender little chicken like Milly is on offer. Milly tells me forty-year-old boilers are hot, forty-year-old, old boilers with money, leather clothes and a need to spank bad boys' bottoms are red hot.

Once the extension was completed to my satisfaction I had driven Lola, my handy woman mad. Thankfully she remembers what I was like while I was giving my special love to Arty. She realised I had no need or desire to settle on one man. I had no desire to settle on any man, or men. Consequently I had a cell block for Cuntymike and three others. Night time accommodation was either spread-eagle in cuffs on the wall or spread-eagle in cuffs on a hard wooden bunk. The doors were very secure but as they were in cuffs a secure door was just for show. I did have a fantasy of securing a pretty boy face down and letting a bisexual man free roam the three other cells. I had already fitted cameras all over the dungeon and cell block. If we could make It happen, it was going to happen, both Milly and I got a bit wet talking about watching a gagged pretty boy taking a big cock for the first time. That went on to having a permanent trestle with plenty of cuffs and restraints in the hallway outside the cells. Again everything was soundproofed and a rack of torture toys was kept outside. When Milly found our first candidate, I got so worked up thinking about it I got the strap-on Arty bought for me and did the poor sod with the number three. That's after I opened him up with the one and two first. One day I'll get brave and use the number 4. Can you imagine using that to break in a tight little virgin boy's arse with.

It didn't take long, we were being sought out in the kink world. The only problem was the boys in my fantasies were young fit and virile. We developed a vetting procedure. We met them in the Red Lion pub in the next town. They had to wear some form of identification and supply us with a mobile phone number.

We would scope them out and I have to say a good 66% didn't get past this stage. If they did, I would call their number from a public phone box and give them instructions to meet me in the Red Lion carpark. Though it was now quite old, Milly and I would drive here in Arty's old van. It may have been getting on a bit but it was still a part of him I clung to. I recon Arty would have approved of the use I was putting it to.

Milly would dress me up just for this bit, I would look like a street walker, an older trollop with the emphasis on trollop. Over the top makeup, a dress that barely covered my arse, my best red soled six-inch stilettos, OK 5 and a bit inch, I've only got small feet. I can do stupid high in ballet boots. However I need the boot bit for support, it's supposed to be my victim in pain, not me, and I have to drive. With Millie's situation we can't afford some big bugger in blue putting his size elevens in it.

So if he passes the no flab and pretty boy test and he smells nice and hasn't got a hunch back and add to that if I can persuade him to get in the back of the van, we are off to the races.

So far, we have scored three times. Milly hit on the idea of filming the sessions and replaying them to cuntymike. I don't know where she got him from but she found a guy who set a computer to replay the recordings on a big flat screen I had built into his cell wall. It somehow tracks his eyes and if he looks away, he gets one hell of a shock to his but-plug and urethra electrodes. I can verify he doesn't like that one bit. He gets a shock if he blinks. Milly has gone pretty much girl only, or strap-on sex with boys so I have to fuck todays star prize.

Milly watches me intently as I carry the load, or in some cases loads, sometimes loads in all three holes. First, I spit the blow job load into cuntymike's mouth, then I sit on his face for him to clean my pusssy. Milly has him hooked up to the stim machine set to pain. Pussy polishing time sings Milly and he does, he licks me spotless. Milly sits on a chair in the room and applies enough electricity to light Grater Manchester to his two electrodes. He tried to resist once but I thought Milly was going to burn his dick off and cauterise his arse. I must admit I like having him lick cum from my arse, I push my biggest personal dildo up my honey pot to squeeze as much cum out as I can, that's before I go and douche. It doesn't make me cum but Milly does after.

Our fourth score was the best ever. The guy is twenty-five years old but he is so baby faced, baby girl faced, he looks as though he should be still at school. He lives here full time and is the very best male pussy licker ever, now we have him trained, he is fun and we share him, I had to buy a bed for three and despite his innocent looks he is a card-carrying member of the pervert party. Oh, it's locked away safe and sound in one of Kevin of Cambridge's PA no-pull-out chastities. The only question I have about him.

How can any mother call a boy who looks more like an innocent teenage girl, Sam!