Date: Tue,  4 Aug 2009 20:50:01 +0200 (CEST)
From: Teresa Yam <trevor@maytum.fsnet.co.uk>
Subject: THE COUNT OF COWLEY MANOR (BDSM)

The Riding Stables at Cowley Manor

It was time to relieve my dear nephew of his riding breeches. Of course the
handsome young fellow kicked like a mule in retaliation, causing the
overhead beam to creak in protest, it was the least I expected of him; but
with his arms suspended above, it was a fairly simple matter to wait for
the right moment, approach him from the rear, immobilise him with one arm
around his thighs, and with my other, undo his fly.

   His face was a high colour, betraying his indignation and outrage and he
spat venomously at nothing in particular. I ignored this pathetic tantrum
and continued with my intention to denude him in front of his pretty young
wife who was herself gagged and securely bound to the heavy wooden chair
next to an old chest of drawers where I kept my instruments.

   I could see my actions were having an effect on her, but it was
difficult to tell whether her passions were being inflamed in a positive,
sensual way because of it, or a negative one, with her wishing me ill will
and spite. But she was very worked-up, that much was obvious from her
constant fidgeting.

   However, I cared little for her trifling thoughts at that moment because
she shouldn't have been present in the first place. She was an encumbrance
I had not bargained for and I was rather peeved at her.

   However, the flush of hot colour on her husband's boyish face was most
enchanting and went some way in compensating me for the interruption and
inconvenience she had caused me.

   His ice-blue eyes flashed their defiance at me at every opportunity,
their piercing blueness incredibly striking under his flaxen locks. But
this only served to stiffen my prick even more as the thrill of sadism took
hold and began to warm my loins in readiness for the salacious adventures
ahead.

   Having undone his fly I took the further liberty of slipping my hand
inside his underclothing and feeling him. He had a magnificent nest of hair
and it was no surprise to find his magnificent prick in a state of
semi-arousal. I knew my actions, despite his vehement protests, were
exciting him and arousing his curiosity. How vulnerable he felt, despite
his extraordinary dimensions. It was as if I was holding his whole life in
my palm, his power to fuck and procreate was at my mercy. How fragile his
world appeared to me at that moment.

   His response to my ribald fumbling was indeed encouraging. I could feel
his prick stiffening between my fingers and I anticipated an enjoyable
afternoon's entertainment.

  "Have mercy on us, Uncle Jack," he said, now virtually resigned to his
fate. "Please, not in front of Penelope."

   I was certain his constant wriggling and squirming was as much
attributed to his own perverse pleasure, as to his pretence of
unwillingness to comply with my wishes. His resistance now was minimal; his
movements lacked any real conviction. His continual energy-burning
struggles against the bonds that contained his wrists above his head had
taken a heavy toll on his physical reserve.

  "But you are so obviously enjoying what I'm doing to you... Your eager
prick here tells me a different story, dear boy. It doesn't lie to me in
the way that your mealy-mouth does."

  "Oh please, Uncle, you shame me. If you must do what you intend to do...
then go ahead. But please, Uncle Jack, not in front of my wife. At least
blindfold her for her own sake for it may kill her to see me humbled at
your hands."

  "Or even in them," I added, rather saucily and wittily. "I rather fancy
she might enjoy the spectacle, young man." I looked across at my nephew's
pretty young wife. Her dark brown eyes widened with trepidation and she
shook her head. "Well, perhaps not. Although, I still feel it would be
educational for her to witness your seduction -- an education for both of
you, in fact."

  "No, Uncle Jack! You may do anything to me, but please spare Penelope
from seeing my defilement. If you have an ounce of pity in your bones, you
will spare her from witnessing the two of us in intimate and obscene
conflict, sir!"

  "You are in no position to request favours, Nicholas. It is I who will do
the bargaining, all you have to do is agree to whatever I have in mind. I
have you exactly where I want you, dear boy. I have planned meticulously to
get you into this situation and I am hardly likely to abandon my intentions
now just because of some pathetic protest from you and the unforeseen
presence of your wife. However, my soul is not in complete absence of pity.

  "It is most unfortunate that Penelope chose to arrive at such a critical
time; but arrive she did and I have to deal with it. I am still committed
to achieving my goal. I think you understand I had no choice but to subdue
her, tie her up and keep her with us until it's all over. I'm sorry for any
fright or discomfort I have caused her, but I will release you both as soon
as I've sated my desire."  I paused to assess the size of his considerable
gonads (for he was hung like a bull in the testicular sense), weighing them
alternately in my palm. I then continued with my rhetoric...

  "You have considerable assets, young man, and I don't need to spell out
in what sense I mean that. I am suitably impressed by your physical
attributes and I know they will provide me with the utmost pleasure in the
coming hour or so. If Penelope didn't know before, and I suspect at only
nineteen years of age her experience of the more sophisticated, but darker
side of sensuality is somewhat limited, she will soon become enlightened by
what I have in mind for you. I would very much like her to see that a man,
a husband, can be equally pleased by another man. It is not so naturally a
woman's gift or prerogative to be able to satisfy the male of the
species. We are adequately equipped to perform that function -- if called
for."

  "Oh my God!"

  "Tell you what, though... If you promise to always avail yourself of my
urges in future, I'll blindfold Penelope right now and we will continue in
her blissful ignorance. What do you say to that?"

   Nicholas didn't answer right away. He seemed suddenly to be in a state
of limbo, lost in a moment of blind ecstasy. I fancy my continual ribald
and suggestive dialogue was playing havoc with his mind. I began
manipulating his testicles in a slightly threatening fashion. They felt
heavy, possibly laden with pent-up, frustrated spunk. I wondered just how
much molten seed he would release when I finally led him to an intense
orgasm.

  "Well?" I compressed his balls together, urging him to give me a positive
reply.

  "Agghh!"

   Nicholas's face contorted in the throes of pain. He snapped out of his
self-indulgent reverie and once again gave me his undivided attention.

  "W-what do you want me to say?" he said, blearily. He sounded resigned
and fatigued.

  "Do we have a deal? Or will it take a few really firm squeezes to get you
to agree to my proposition? I can cause you intense discomfort if I have
to."

  "No, that won't be necessary, Uncle. Ugghh! Please let me go. You are
very persuasive, sir..." Nicholas had suddenly come awake, but he paused to
catch his breath, which was now coming in short, urgent pants. "You can
have me whenever you want. I'll subject myself to your whims whenever you
like, Uncle, but please release your grip and do the honourable thing --
blindfold Penelope."

  "Of course," I said, finally, although somewhat reluctantly freeing his
remarkable genitalia from my grasp and making my way over to the tool chest
next to Penelope, where besides various torture implements, I kept several
useful accessories and adornments - in this case a fur-trimmed sleeper's
blindfold.

   It is a useful aid for concentrating the mind and to heightening the
sensual sensations a skilled torturer like myself, can bring upon a
person's flesh. But in this case it was to be used for its most basic
function -- deprivation of sight.

   I fitted it snugly around her eyes, smoothing it out, ensuring that it
was both comfortable and fit for purpose. "Perhaps I ought to block your
ears too, my dear... Hmm? What do you think?"

   Penelope shook her head.

  "What? You mean you'd rather hear your husband's cries of supplication,
his sighs of surrender, his bellows of ultimate relief?"

   She didn't answer, so I took her silence to be in the affirmative.

  "So be it," I said. "Listen to your beloved one succumb to his uncle's
caresses, if that's what you want."

   My gaze fell to her magnificent bosom. I watched it rise and fall for a
few seconds, visual evidence of her aggravated and excited breathing. I
could not resist feeling her wonderful assets, which, though hidden in a
pretty floral summer dress, were admirably defined, full and ripe to the
touch, and suitably impudent in outline. I could hear her muffled protests
behind the gag as I squeezed the plump, warm mounds unhindered and felt for
her protruding nipples. Even through her dress and chemise I could feel
their bullet-like stature. They were proud and magnificent, like two
miniature soldiers standing to attention. I wondered then, if her cunt was
also speaking well of her at that very moment in time.

   Her eyes flashed their anger and outrage and it happily stimulated my
prick no end. It was a mouth-watering sight watching her pathetically
inadequate responses to my outrageous familiarities with her breasts. Her
body jerked delightfully but hopelessly against her bonds allowing my
libido to be cranked up to the very limit. But I had to save myself for
Nicholas. I could enjoy Penelope later if I so wished, perhaps even save
her for another day.

   My head was full of such sadistic delight and licentious anticipation
that I suddenly felt quite light-headed and had to steady myself against
the tool chest.

   As soon as I had gathered my wits I left Penelope to herself and
approached my nephew, who was himself visibly steaming at witnessing his
wife's abuse at my practiced and tormenting hands. But the long-awaited
moment was fast approaching. It was high time I completed the seduction of
my handsome young charge.



End of Chapter















New Chapter



I yanked my nephew's riding breeches all the way down and pulled the
leggings free of his feet. Then I relieved him of his underclothing,
freeing his monstrous prick which bobbed and danced with a hot pulse in a
the narrow shaft of sunlight that was pouring in through a gap in the
roof. There were motes of dust swirling in the beam of light. His eager
prick reminded me of a hungry bird, impatient to be fed and watered,
longing for attention, urgent for relief. It was a magnificent sight and I
was tempted to fellate him immediately. But I wanted to draw out his ordeal
and extract the maximum sadistic pleasure by enforcing his seduction. Only
then would I allow him the ultimate pleasure.

  "A fine specimen, my boy." I said, drawing myself up to his full six feet
and meeting his eyes. "You are extremely lucky to have been born with such
a gift. The gods have indeed smiled upon you."

  "It used to embarrass me, Uncle. I was afraid of anyone seeing it and
then being called a freak."

  "It is only men with small cocks that should fear ridicule. Yours is
something to be proud of. I have never seen such a magnificent beast."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "Is it the cause of any marital distress?"

  "As far as I know, Uncle, Penelope is very happy with the physical side
of our marriage."

  "She is well appointed?"

  "Indeed she is, sir."

   I walked round behind my cousin and began feeling his well-muscled
rump. His cheeks clenched and unclenched as my hand wandered across the
summits. He had the narrow hips of a matador, the cock of a bull, the arse
muscles of an Olympian sprinter. How I longed to penetrate him and rub his
cock, fuck him until my molten seed spurted deep into his bowels. I parted
his arse cheeks to get a peek at the crown jewel. And there it was,
seemingly winking at me in the hairy, humid cleft. I bent over to smell his
odour, quite pungent in this heightened state of arousal. My prick twitched
and stiffened at his maleness. I undid my fly and released my semi-erect
charger. I paraded slowly and deliberately in front of him, fisting myself
to draw out the length, squeezing the shaft to exaggerate the knob. But I
was no match for him in that department, yet I knew I could easily thrill
him with what I had, maybe even hurt him.

      I arranged my genitalia so that my balls as well as my cock were
exposed and hanging lewdly outside my tights. In this attitude I could
project an air of insolence and menace to my hapless victim which would
suitably intensify his humiliation. I went over to my tool chest and
fetched a thick leather belt from the second drawer. I ran it through my
fingers and palm noting its suppleness, its coolness. I sniffed it,
savouring the seductive smell of leather. I cracked it through the air, and
stepped towards Nicholas. I aligned myself face to face with him, close
enough to feel his breath on my face. I allowed the heavy iron-buckle to
dangle on his cock, which by this time seemed to have lost some of its
fervour, but still looked magnificent in its semi-erect state. In fact, it
is always my favourite condition when appraising the qualities of a nice
prick.

  "Kiss me, sweet nephew," I said, matter-of-factly, while I playfully
menaced his genitals with the large iron buckle.

   When he didn't respond to my request I stepped back and aimed a couple
of quick flicks to his cock and balls with the leather end of the belt. His
yelp of pain registered with Penelope, who visibly squirmed at her
husband's brief distress.

  "Kiss me, Nicholas," I repeated. "Otherwise I will hurt you more."

   He relented and offered his lips in a kissing gesture. I accepted.

   A first kiss is always special to me, but Nicholas was holding back, his
lips clamped tight. I drew away. "Kiss me properly, nephew, as you would
your dear wife." I made a loop with the belt and cradled his great balls as
if in a hammock. I tightened the loop. His mouth came open and then we were
kissing as lovers should. My tongue entered his mouth and we sparred, as if
with swords, tongue against tongue. When mine retreated, a little
tightening of his balls told him that it was probably a good idea to follow
my tongue with his and reciprocate the favour. He did, and splendidly
so. When I was satisfied he'd fulfilled my request I released his balls and
stepped back. "There, dear boy, that's better. It's so much better to be
intimately acquainted, isn't it?"

  "Yes, Uncle."

  "Kiss the belt that is to humble you."

   He did so.

   I tickled the leather end across his chest. The central hollow of his
breastbone was wet with sweat His whole upper body in fact, had a beautiful
golden sheen and seemed to define his muscles quite magnificently. His
nipples stood out like gun pellets. I fingered them, noting their tightness
and texture in contrast to the smoothness of his torso. I plumped them even
more with some skilled agitation, and then took aim with my belt. The
swollen, pinky-brown nubs made enticing targets and I couldn't resist the
challenge.

   I administered half-a-dozen sharp flicks, three to each nipple and
watched them darken and bruise before my eyes. Nicholas whimpered like a
chastised dog. I took the nipples in my mouth, each one in turn, and
soothed them, swirling by tongue around the tender points of flesh. They
tasted deliciously sweet, which was in marked contrast to the saltiness of
his body sweat. When I had made my peace with them I slid like a snake down
his torso, trailing my tongue wetly towards his navel. I swirled it around
the hard knot of flesh in its little salty pit. As I worked my tongue
around I looked up at him and met his eyes. It was the moment when I knew
he was ready to surrender himself completely and, despite his captivity,
willingly. He was mine for the taking.

   Then I followed the narrow track of pubic hair that led from his navel
to his crotch until I was on my knees. I lay the belt on the ground beside
his feet and placed my hands behind him and upon his buttocks and drew him
towards me. His long, pendulous cock dangled before me. It smelled of man
sex, slightly fishy. Already his early pre-sex secretions were drying in
tiny snail-trails around the knob. Nicholas needed reviving and I took his
magnificent beast between my lips and began fellating him. He was
deliciously savoury, with a faint taste of urine to add an element of spice
to the mix. There's nothing quite like tasting and feeling a soft cock come
alive in one's mouth. He became erect very quickly and I almost gagged with
the rapid transformation of his organ. I could have continued and taken him
to orgasm, but my immediate aim was to keep him aroused and interested
while I amused myself with other activities before the grand-finale. I had
yet to prepare him for a delicious bottom-fucking.

   I released him from my mouth, his cock now saliva-wet, springing to
attention, a shining ivory tower of man-flesh. I almost felt compelled to
salute; such was its supreme stateliness. I moved behind him and eyed his
superbly muscled buttocks.

   I always like to whip an arse before fucking it, to tenderise the
rump. It raises the intended receptacle for my desire to an agreeable
temperature and increases comfort for the protagonist, if not the
victim. The exquisite warmth caused by a good spanking or whipping makes
the penetration so much more pleasurable. But burying oneself to the hilt
inside a hot and throbbing posterior is too delicious to be able to
describe with any justice. Suffice to say, it is one of the great pleasures
in life and no man worth his salt should be denied such a unique
experience. At a calculated guess, I estimated Nicholas to be a virgin in
that department. His deflowering would be an exquisite, almost divine
experience.

   I took up the belt again and began teasing his arse-cheeks with the
heavy iron buckle, mentally plotting where I would plant the first lashes
when they came. His buttocks clenched and unclenched with nervous
tension. I could feel the sadistic delight rising like a demon inside me. I
coiled the belt around my right hand and drew back my arm to take aim.

   The belt fizzed through the air, landing plum on the right summit. The
sound of leather striking flesh is both evocative and seductive. But there
came no sound or movement from Nicholas and I wondered whether I had
suddenly lost my touch. It is so satisfying to elicit a high-pitched yelp
from a victim, particularly a brave, handsome young man, but this was not
forthcoming. Had my first effort lacked the necessary velocity to rouse
him? I coiled the belt once again, winding it up for the next whip. A pink
stripe was already forming from my first attack and my second strike, this
time harder, was aimed rather cruelly at exactly the same spot and this had
the effect of making my nephew draw a sharp intake of breath and I gleaned
some encouragement from this. But I was surprised to hear him suddenly
break the otherwise silent atmosphere with a calm, clear and articulate
voice:

  "Beat me well, Uncle. Beat me raw and then fuck me hard, sir! It's no
less than I deserve for my humbling at your hands, for you have cleverly
shamed me, reduced my status and prepared me for what is God's will. Please
do not be lenient with me."

  "Are you begging me?"

  "Yes sir, I am."

  "Very well."

   Penelope was shaking her head on hearing her husband's declaration of
surrender. Her brief protest, as demonstrated by her pointless and
energy-sapping struggles against her bonds, only spurred me on to even
greater salaciousness.

   Nicholas had given me carte blanche to punish him as I pleased and I
thus began laying into him. Each whip of flashing leather was met by a soft
inward sigh of ecstasy from my lover-in-waiting.  In fact I felt so
intoxicated with lust that I almost lost control. I quickly worked myself
into a frenzy, a sadistic orgy of arse-whipping and before I knew it my
selected target was a mass of stripes, welts and bruises. I suddenly came
to myself and immediately stopped the thrashing, breathlessly casting my
weapon aside. My face was hot with excitement. I needed to let the red mist
clear and regain control of myself.

   Oh God have mercy, what had I done? I was deeply concerned I may have
broken the skin with the ferocity of my attack on my nephew's flesh and was
relieved therefore, on closer inspection, that the wounds I had inflicted
with such zeal were actually still only superficial, though cruel enough
for all that. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. It was not my intention to
draw blood from his veins, for I am rather squeamish about the stuff to be
frank, although that one trait appears to be at odds with my overall
temperament.

  "Th-thank you, sir," said my nephew, breathlessly. "Now please go ahead
and possess me."

   My nephew's whole posterior was a glorious canvas of stripes, blotches
and florets, of pinks, reds and purples, the sight of which made my prick
so hard that I truly feared bursting a blood vessel. In a few days his
whole backside would be a pretty collage of many shades of purples, yellows
and browns. I was now more than ready for the final assault on his poor
defenceless bottom. After all, he was urging me to `possess' him as he so
eloquently put it. It was a triumph of my seductive technique that our
final union was to be so mutually desired by both possessor and possessed.



(to be continued...)