Love in Cathedral Heights - Book OneSubmitted by: Justin
BOOK ONE"Where IS she?" Gerry moaned...It's been forty-five minutes... My dick hurts, I can't stand it!
Danielle, owner of the salon where Helen was a stylist often remarked that her star employee sounded like an art historian and dressed like Joan Jett... "Must be the cute young lawyer who rents from you, huh?" Dani kidded... Helen looked great today outside the coffee shop, spiky red hair, tank top (no bra) and tiny leather miniskirt. Her new fishnet stockings looked great too... Gerry had hooked the garters that morning, trembling... It's great that I still can do that to him at nearly fifty, she thought. One of Helen's ivory hands, the long nails colored the same flaming red as the hair and lipstick, absently stroked a collie's ear, the other held a bottle of Johnson's Baby Lotion, purchased twenty minutes before at that awful CVS drugstore a block down.
Gerry preferred Astroglide, but this would do. She'd been gone an hour now, what with coffee and shopping...was Gerry all right? If anything happened after all, he couldn't move. Helen smiled, and sipped some of her latte. Strange to worry this time, after fourteen years of this. The stove was off, the door locked. He must be squirming.
Gerald David Morin, 33-year old patent attorney and first year partner at Gideon, Shapiro and Burling tried to stretch his arms... no, he couldn't move them, not an inch. Jesus, I curl 175 but Helen makes the ropes fuckin' tight. Why isn't she back? Gerry lay spread eagled on Helen's four poster bed, his broad chest taut, and hands and feet tied by tight nylon cord to each wooden bannister.
Naked as always, his pierced dick struggling in its weird loop, the cockhead attached by a ring to a tiny padlock in another ring just above the scrotum. Impossibly, precum seemed to be oozing across his ball sack. Helen had just been going to unlock it when she realized they were out of lubricant. It had been more than an hour... where the hell was she?
Though it had been Gerry who begged that they switch him from the chastity belt to pierced rings in '98, he sometimes regretted it. He had to sit down to pee, like a girl. Had not used a urinal in five years. And now his dick really hurt right now, and looked ridiculous in its constant tremble... trembling because its natural instinct was to stick straight up, not to be hooked to his balls... stick straight up and wait for Helen's wandering fingers.
"Do you want to go with a bunch of us to Great Falls this weekend?" Marsha, a summer associate in her early twenties had asked on Friday... "I'm going to be wearing cut-offs and splashing my feet after all the work on this case."
Gerry had imagined she'd look good in cut-offs... His penis had struggled against the ring then, making a teeny tent in his Brooks Brothers summer trousers. "I can't." He tried to smile.
"Gerry NEVER goes out with us. Wasn't even at the Christmas party." said Ann, a second-year associate with bouncing auburn curls who'd flirted with Gerry since her first day at Gideon interrupted." I think he has a curfew or something... Look! He's BLUSHING!"
The womens' laughter had tinkled cruelly... but Ann was so close. Not a only a curfew but a BEDTIME. Thirty-three years old, and he'd never seen "Law and Order" because it was on after eight-thirty. Sometimes he could stay up til nine if Helen felt like a little cunnilinguis or a massage, but usually she got that BEFORE dinner.
Helen loved him, and she knew best... Gerry's reverie was interrupted by the door opening. For a minute he panicked... What if it were the old Miss Hall from the dog park? Did she have a key? Oh Shit. "Hello, sweetie, I'm back." came the familiar lilting Southern tones...Oh, thank God.
Helen came into the room, tucking in her tank-top,which of course made her chest balloon..."What have you been doing?" An old joke, they both laughed. She sat on her stool by the bed, and took the key off the bedside table. "Ooh, it's purple... you don't need me."
Helen smiled at his agonized look, and unlocked the tiny padlock between the rings. Gerry's penis shot up to attention. "Like one of my daddy's recruits at Fort Benning." Helen, a former army brat said, laughing, and took the lotion out of the bag. Seeing Gerry's disappointment at her purchase, she cocked her head. "What did you want me to do Gerald, drive down to the Pleasure Chest?"
"God you're beautiful, Miss Helen" Even after he'd discovered they both had subscriptions to "Leg Tease" after he'd rented her basement his sophomore year at Georgetown. "You're a cutie too, my Gerald" Helen began gently rubbing the lotion into the underside of his now furious and quite violet member..."Thank you ma'am...ooh that's good...I'm Sooo horny..." A sharp flick of a fire-engine nail on the cockhead "er- I mean aroused" Though she'd left Vanderbilt after her first year Miss Helen was still an educated woman and frowned on slang.
Gerry had never really felt comfortable going to a first-name basis with Helen; but she'd allowed him to go from Mrs. O'Neill to Miss Helen on their fifth anniversary; when he'd signed over his first Gideon paycheck. After rubbing and stroking his penis for about five minutes, Helen stood up, and Gerry caught a flash of the garter attaching her net stockings.
God, I'm glad I bought her that miniskirt, her legs are better than Ann's. "What...what's wrong? Why are you getting up?" It was feeling so good, too..."Sweetie, I have to go in the kitchen and feed Victoria and Albert...I'll be back..." His penis wagging like a metronome, Gerry tried to smile. A tantrum wouldn't work, being trussed like this. Not to mention that Miss Helen could lock him right back up again, as she'd done in the past when Gerry had summarily ordered her to keep stroking...
As Helen only gave him a "teasing" every other Sunday morning, with release averaging about once every 90 days ("So you have something to look forward to, Gerald; remember, an expectation is a resentment waiting to happen") it behooved the K Street law community's patent and trademark expert to keep his remarks prudent. "Aah...take your time, Miss Helen. I'll bathe the dogs for you later on." If he kissed up enough, maybe today would be cum-day...maybe.
Helen smiled, gently pushed a fluffier pillow under her captive's head, and she left the room, her derriere twitching in the skirt as the door closed. Gerry sighed and bent his chin on his chest to watch the juices flowing from his miserable, enthralled and utterly unsatisfied "wee-wee"
A fortnight earlier, Helen had made the shaft of it buck, supported by Gerry's hips, as she'd alternated for five hours between her glorious fingers and an ostrich feather that she'd picked up at the Georgetown flea market.
After about 20 minutes of feather-rubbing the area just under his cockhead, Gerry had burst into tears, begging Helen to quit, and she'd immediately, to his chagrin ceased the entire tease, icing his member til it was flaccid for the evil padlock. "No, don't stop COMPLETELY..." he'd begged, tears and mucus running down his cheeks...but she'd locked him, untied him and put him to work scrubbing her five bathrooms..."A more productive occupation anyway, Gerald for an enterprising youngster on a weekend afternoon."No cumming for another two weeks. Damn! DAMN!
He'd primed himself to be ready for the feather's ministrations today, but Helen's mind was fertile with surprises...in fourteen years he'd never been able to predict her next move!
Gerry had interrupted a deposition last Wednesday to duck into a restroom stall to uh, prep for the upcoming Sunday feather, when he remembered again as he had several times in the past decade that, although he could stimulate his cock as long as he liked, lubing with that vile pink soap the firm had, it was to no avail...though he averaged five bathroom trips a day for this sordid purpose. With the evil padlock there was NO RELEASE. Back to the meeting he'd trudge, ball sack leaden.
"Don't you ever give up?" Miss Helen often asked, arching one eyebrow. "Just use the lavatory for its correct purpose, Gerald." as she clucked over the scabs the cheap pink liquid left on his unsatisfied erections. Once when he threw a tantrum over wanting the padlock removed before cum-day, she'd replaced it with a steel ball hooked to the rings, and batted it between his legs with a spoon as Gerry writhed in pain. It didn't help that nearly every night, he was giving her gorgeous 36DD breasts a scented oil massage, and spending two hours or so (before dinner)between her legs...He was hornier, and she was fine! A few weeks ago Gerry'd begun crying when he realized he was licking someone's semen out of her vagina...his penis had certainly never been down there, and she soothed him..."Just an old friend I saw..."
It's worth it though, he thought now, bound to the bed, Bring on the feather, I'm ready. "I'm back, Gerald." Helen swished back in..."Victoria is really enjoying the leftover bacon...Did you miss me?" Gerry nodded weakly, and watched Helen sit down and prop a plastic box of dental floss on her fishnet thigh.
"Miss Helen has a surprise today..." She smiled, and pulled a bit of floss out of the box. Was she going to tend to her teeth, before bringing out the horrible feather? Snapping off a piece of floss about seven inches long Helen then squirted a bit of lotion in her left hand, and, floss in her right, rubbed both hands together. What was this?
Helen then took the greasy strand between the fingers of both hands, and looped it around Gerry's straining cock, in that sensitive area just beneath the head where the feather had visited two Sundays before. And then holding the ends between the crimson tipped thumb and forefinger of each hand, Helen began pulling the string baack and forth...
Gerry lay rigid, feeling the delicious tingle of the lubed dental floss that Miss Helen was rubbing around his straining, drooling erection. First she'd stick right below the pulsing now violet cockhead, and then pull up and down the shaft.
Miss Helen was a beautiful Southern redhead, and as she pulled the string back and forth round the shaft, her breasts jiggled in the snug tank-top...At forty-seven Helen's tits might not ignore gravity, but they winked at it a little...Gerald just couldn't take his eyes off them. When the floss became dry, Miss Helen would re-immerse it in the lotion...
It'd been an hour of this, puncutated by brief, no release handjobs..."Miss Helen, Please I don't want to complain the way I did about the feather torture..." "What did that get you, Gerald?" Miss Helen dragged the floss further downt he shaft, pullling it back up towards the purple mushroom..."Answer me!"
"You locked me back up for two weeks...the floss is okay...Just...I'm soo...uh..." his dick felt like a missile ready to go off. The light touch of the greasy floss, further inflamed by his excellent view of Helen's balooning cleavage straining against the tank-top as she bent over to pulll the string just a little more.
When he'd met Miss Helen Gerry was a confused and somewhat pudgy trust-fund baby,whose ambition was to drum for Metallica. His adolescence had been a myriad of prep school expulsions, wrecked Mazdas, pregnant girlfriends, and methadone maintenance.
Hell he'd only gotten into Georgetown because Uncle Will was a generous alumnus; and had moved to Miss Helen's because he'd been kicked out of a frat for hazing too hard..."Only A I ever got was when I cheated on the exam..."was one of his old yearbook quotes,..."Scary Gerry" was ashamed of nothing except his kinky fantasies...Ooh, the string is driving me MAD!
Finally she tossed the strand into a wastebasket and began casually stroking the underside of his cock with her crimson tipped fingers. "There is a large purple vein, Gerald...IF you took up drug addiction again this would be the place to inject...Ooh your juices are soaking my finger...Lick it off, please."
Gerry sucked the precum off his landlady's long fingernail as if it were a dildo, and withdrawing her finger, Helen opened the end table drawer and tok out some Scotch tape. "Do you like what I do to your wee-wee Gerald?"? Helen wrapped a bit of tape around Gerry's foreskin...."Yes ma'am...The teasing is so heavy sometimes."
"It's what you begged for, remember?" Helen wrapped more tape around the shaft gradually working her way down the frenum. "You begged to for it, remember? Dumped your little sorority girlfriend, quit running with your friends for the TEEASE, Gerald..."
At first she'd teased the excited nineteen year old for only short periods, his hands bound behind...she always let him cum within an hour or two sometimes twice if he brought helped to clean the house,..then one night, no cumming.
"What's wrong?" Gerry had asked. "There are rewards and punishments, Gerald..." The house was to be spotless,the ponytail and beard would be replaced with a crewcut and clean shave; 500 daily chin ups,push-ups and situps for Gerry; a mile a day of running with Miss Helen shouting encouragement from her car window; turning over his allowance and credit cards for her to manage; and STUDYING.
Every test or quiz score over 95 would be rewarded by long, heavy teasing and then orgasm; 85-80 resulted in long, LONG teases ending with horrible ice dropped on his swelling scrotum;no release..."Why oh why can't you do better academically, Gerald? Don't scream darling, the ice isn't that bad" and below a score of 79 there was no teasing; just fifty with the strap and two nights in the closet...with all this effort there was no time for parties anymore.
One day "Gerald Morin" was on the dean's list! And on the tennis team? His former dirtbag friends were astonished...Not only did he look great and was summa cum laude...but for the first time since his twelfth year, "Scary Gerry" was addicted to nothing--no tobacco, booze or drugs, and needed no methadone or support groups. All he was addicted to were his landlady's wandering, lubricated fingers--and that was a secret. College and then law school professors, and finally employers said the same thing "That boy is DRIVEN!" The last time, this compliment came from a firm partner, as the brilliant young associate limped by, butt swelling, and confined erection overloaded, because the firms aging trademark expert had lower standards for a well-written brief than Miss Helen did...
But he'd endured it, and now..."Is the tape irritating you, Gerald?" Helen smiled, Gerry could see her nipples poking through the tank top..."Its all right sweetie..I'm sorry about my temper over the feather incident..." Mollified, the trusting prisoner complained a little. "Well, the tape is really sticky and my dick is so hard." It had been Gerry's suggestion, fourteen years ago, that he purchase a good chastity belt, selling his Harley-Davidson to order several different European models,with Helen holding keys, of course...
"Oh, sweetie...I'll take the tape off...it'll be all better, my precious boy." Then one night was it she or him? who proposed,good grades or not, a month of total chastity belted celibacy, with thirty evenings of frustrating no-release milkings..." Thank you Miss Helen for removing the tape...YEAAGH! YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO RIP IT OFF?" Crying now, Gerry's cock was scalding from the quick er, removal of the tape...Helen was laughing..."It's not (Sob!) funny! IT HURTS!" Helen instantly quit laughing and looked quite annoyed. Tossing the crumpled tape into the trash, she arched her back, breasts rising majestically. "You seem to complain at the end of every tease-day now..first whining over the feather, and now the tape...I think I'll quit, you obviously don't WANT to orgasm..." No, NO. "Please, Miss Helen" Gerry wailed. "I can't take it...it's been over a hundred, hundred and five days now...I won't complain!"
Though he used to get milkings daily, with orgasms each day, eventually Miss Helen who needed her hands to have energy for her work as a stylist, had limited the sessions to twice a month, on alternate Sundays...
This happened after Gerry had made partner, and was habitually a hard worker.."Gerald, the whippings will remain if you falter in work or housework, or even if your Saturday rugby team loses too many games, but the rewards will be fewer, a good bloodhound needs nothing but the joy of the hunt."with Gerry, having discarded the chastity belt to wear a cock piercing of two rings, one at the tip and the other at the scrotum, which locked the penis in a non-masturbatable arc.
Gerry could get aroused playing with it, but no cumming...And any excuse on these play days would cause Miss Helen to re-lock the poor boy back up for another frustrating two weeks...it had been well over three months now...couldn't he mollify her somehow? "Please Miss Helen (sniff) I won't complain anymore. Please don't stop now..."his voice broke, watching her get up off the bed and walk out the door. "I'll consider it, Gerald...I'm going to get some tea now."
It was nearly four o'clock, Miss Helen had taken about two hours to have her tea. Gerry was attempting to waggle his penis with his torso, hoping vainly that he could make it squirt...but no go! It might have been easier if he didn't have the desires of a compulsive masturbator, and the semen was certainly built up...Water had been running in the bathroom...Would she come back?
About seven years ago, he'd decided to leave Helen for a while; sick of the early bedtimes, teetotaling, no partying and no "fun" He wanted to date a few girls his age, dammit! After about six weeks in a cocaine drenched love-triangle with a nineteen year old waitress and a gorgeous blond paralegal, both of whom had dumped him for his strange desires...he'd called Helen,crying from a detox ward..."Coming home, Gerald?"Forgiveness came readily, but he'd not squirted for an entire summer! Now, thinking about it, he'd been such a fool, though the life here could be tough. Where is she right now?
"Well, how have you enjoyed your respite?" Helen wandered back in. She had taken a long bath, changed her tank top to one of her little t-shirts that accentuated the boobs and exposed the midriff, and some white short-shorts..."I couldn't tell whether you wanted me to quit or not."Giving him a mischevious smile, Helen sat down on the bed and placed a manicured forefinger on the tip of his cock. "You seem so emotional." "I'm calm now,Miss Helen, really I am...please let me cum today!"
"Whine, Whine...I think you need to get out of this bed..."Gerry panicked inside, wondering if he would be locked for another fifteen days, and relegated to more housework. Helen undid his hands and feet, and pulling out some handcuffs from the drawer. Motioning the naked attorney to stand up and turn, she cuffed his hands behind his back, and led him out of the bedroom by the head of his burgeoning penis.
Following her, Gerry's arms and legs felt quite stiff, as befitted someone who had been in four-point restraints since the early morning.As they cme into her old fashioned "sitting room" he noticed the grandfather clock. Four thirty! No wonder he could barely move, he'd been in bondage for hours...
They sat on the familiar couch where Helen had given him so many over the arm-rest bare bottom razor stroppings...The couch where he was allowed to watch one football game a year-the Superbowl.He had to earn it, though-- This year he'd viewed the game wearing a frilly oversized pink dress with a little-girl bow in the back,something out of the 1920's...complete with big flowery hat, white socks and Mary Janes and white parasol-since his hands were cuffed it was propped next to him for the duration of the game.
He'd worn no panties since his butt, blistered from a pre-game stropping, housed a cucumber the size of a Louisville Slugger, it seemed. "I got it at the Farmer's Market, Gerald...your regular dildo is getting chipped." The Superbowl fine til she'd blindfolded Gerry for the last 10 minutes of the game..."I polished all the siverware in this dress so you'd let me see the whole game, Miss Helen!" Tears coming down from the kerchief..."Don't whine, Gerald, this is to test your listening skills...the announcer will tell you how things are going, he isn't as irritating as Howard Cosell."
Now, she looked over at him. "I think you should get off the couch, Gerald...Kneel on the hassock right next to it...It'll help you stretch." She smiled mischeviously.
He obeyed, climbing on the hassock on his knees. Immediately, Miss Helen reached over and began stroking his cock. She was so close that she could do this without having to lean over. It was quite comfortable for her..."Kneel up straight, dear as we did at the eight a.m. Mass." Gerry straightened his naked body. This was even harder than the bed--he had to balance his handcuffed form, knees pressured, staying ramrod straight while Miss Helen tickled his throbbing member with her nail tips...what if he fell over?
The phone rang. Helen reached for the phone next to the couch with her left hand, the right still making poor Gerry crazy. "Hello, oh hi Miguel..."Her tongue was between her lips, arousing her straight soldier further. Miguel? Not the firm's most arrogant mailboy who he had dispatched to change the oil and wash Helen's hot-pink Austin Healy 500, a present from Gerry last spring, Gerry had ordered Miguel to do these chores or be fired, as the little creep had used the firm's courier service to pay a late bill. Let him know whose in charge, you know? That was two months ago, Miguel'd been over since then to rake leaves...But I was out of town..."Motley Crue? I love them!" Helen giggled, leaning into the phone. But I was whipped for buying their CD, Gerry thought. "Try a little Brahms, Gerald." she'd said. But now, "God, I'd love to go...Miguel, you're so sweet"She squealed like a schoolgirl.
She reached a long nail under Gerry's scrotum and began toying with his full balls. Propping the phone on one shoulder Helen took her o ther hand and began manipulating the shaft, shooting Gerry a warning look as his shoulders seemed to be losing posture. His butt was falling towards the backs of his legs as well. "Mr. Morin? He can't stay out that late, he's in bed by eight."
Gerry's face burned. Does she have to tell the world I have the bedtime of a nine-year old? Helen was massaging faster as the conversation grew hotter "Do you think a lot about me, Miguel...you can tell me...I'm your sweetheart!" She pumped the shaft, and Gerry felt a wonderful, surging in his granite-hard cock as he hadn't felt in a hundred five days...oh, this is worth it all, I love her...His hips began shaking violently, and he closed his eyes...now, now...NOW...yes, please...Gerry dropped his head to his chest, and waited for the blast.
Suddenly Helen dropped his genitals as if they were a hot potato...she swung her legs over into a lying position. She lit a Marlboro, and smiled at his face.."Why should I quit smoking if you won't?"he asked years before."Adults can smoke, Gerald, but you'll always be a sniveling schoolboy."was the answer.
Now she puffed away, talking kittenishly into the phone "Oh Miguel, of course I enjoyed Thursday. You told Mr. Morin you were sick? I won't tell...the picnic was nice, and I didn't mind paying for the room at that little inn...Mr. Morin's platinum card can be very generous."
Helen watched Gerry, crushed at the sudden cease of the near-orgasmic experience, about to slump on the hassock. She put her hand over the phone. " Keep kneeling with good posture, that's right straighten up or you won't cum til Labor Day...remember, Gerald, the Fourth of July isn't even here yet." She stopped her hiss to chuckle at the tear rolling down the now straightened Gerald's cheek. She went back to her conversation.
Gerry was in bad shape. His penis was in pain from suddenly not squirting, and still quite engorged, he had a serious need to pee, his legs were cramping from kneeling nearly forty minutes, and there was the unbelievable conversation... "No, Mr. Morin's never told me I performed fellatio well, Miguel, it's not a part of our relationship." She sucked the little bastard's cock? "He's very rigid, Mr. Morin is...Sweetie, call me tomorrow and we'll plan for the concert. We can spend the night at the little Inn again. Goodbye."
"How many packs a day did you smoke, Gerald?" She used a nail to flick ash at the young man's tumescent penis. As he was kneeling naked, hands cuffed behind him on the ottoman, this was not taken comfortably...He gasped, and his dick trembled. Gerry was kneeling, not in a sitting position but with his butt up, as they do on the kneeler at church...this had been going on for an hour or two, and he was beginning to cramp. As Miss Helen was sitting comfortably on the couch not seven inches from Gerry's precarious balance on the hassock, it was only amusing to her. She was fully dressed, wearing a midriff t-shirt, tight over her large breasts, and short-shorts, showing her magnificent legs...Gerry felt even more nude in this situation...
"Butt up, Gerald, don't lean on your legs that way...and answer me!" Gerry's lip trembled...he had to pee badly. "I don't...remember, Miss Helen. It was over a decade ago that you made-helped me quit-"
Miss Helen flicked another, larger spark, which fortunately missed the cock entireley, scalding Gerry's inner thigh. "How many (flick) packs (flick)did you (flick)smoke a day, stop crying (flick) Gerald, I'm so sick(flick)of your sniveling...it's not attractive(flick) now about the cigarettes, I'm not going to stop flicking, til you tell me, dear..."
Gerry's crotch was stinging, and he was having a dear time trying to maintain his balance...his upper calves ached, as did his back"One, uh or one and a half, Miss Helen." "My sweet chain-smoker, I think it was more like three, and the first day you moved in here, you put a butt out on my antique cherrywood coffee table...you were an arrogant young man, weren't you?"
She flicked one more spark, it hit directly under the shaft, and Gerry fell off the hassock. Miss Helen got up and patiently helped him back onto the evil cushions..."You know, darling, I only smoke about four ciggies a day..." Helen said, began rubbing the scorched, but still throbbing penis tenderly. "Why are you so addictive?" She asked this as if Gerry had last smoked an hour ago, instead of back in 1988. Picking up a jar of vaseline from the coffee table in question,(Gerry'd long ago had it refinished) she opened it and began spreading the cooling gel all over Gerry's shaft. "Isn't it nice that we have jars of Vaseline all over the house like this?" Gerry sighed deeply, the woman certainly knew how to manipulate her fingers...(giggle) More Vaseline than most couples I imagine."
Miss Helen began energetically rubbing the underside of Gerry's penis with her long red-tipped fingers. "Poor Gerald, I went too far with the cigarette, let me soothe your wee-wee." She stroked a bit more."Better than before you bought me the dryer, darling...remember the clothespin fun?"
Gerry shivered, and his cock wilted just a little. He remembered! But he quickly rose again, his landlady was too good with her massaging. Precum oozed a bit from his penis tip, and Helen rubbed it right back in the skin like ointment, blowing through her full lips. "Ooh, I need to touch up."
She opened her lipstick, and put a fresh shade of pink on her lower lip, rubbing the two together..."Wish I'd use these lips for fun, Gerald? Fun like Miguel gets?" She was referring to her lover, the mail clerk in a firm where Gerry was a partner. Helen put the lipstick away and pushed her head very close to his straining cock and after dipping her long nails into the vaseline jar, began rubbing the foreskin with two fingers...
Gerry, despite the tiny burns all over his penis, felt it filling once again with blood, stiffening and he was incredibly aroused. Miss Helen's fingers rubbed the head, and then worked up and down the shaft..."Poor Sweetie, does that feel better?" She rubbed the shaft more with her soft, white fingers, causing the semen to rise once again from the testicles...
Gerald sighed. He was so used to this Charlie-Brown-Lucy-pulling-away-the-football treatment that these false alarms shouldn't have bothered him, coming close to orgasm, REALLY BELIEVING he was going to cum, and then having her stop suddenly, and ridicule him.
Once after an excruciating forty-eight hour no-cum tease,which had followed fifty-one days of the padlock, he'd stolen her key and unlocked the padlock...she'd caught him, just before he'd squirted kneeling there on the bathroom floor, pumping away and clutching one of her brassieres. Miss Helen had given Gerry a weekend of hell, starting with the strap, and continuing with full infantilism treatment..."Wear Depends til you learn not to squirt without permission, darling." Now, his cock felt that racing that happened right before orgasm yet AGAIN Gerry began trembling, his penis was starting to buck Helen switched from rubbing to tickling, and then... Helen suddenly bent down and kissed the tip, something she'd never done before. She got down on her knees and kissed it again. "Does that feel good, sweetheart? Does that help, kissing the boo-boo?" Suddenly, she seemed to be reverting to baby talk, and right in the position to give head...
No! it couldn't happen..."Did my wittle Ge-wuld's wee-wee burn?" She stroked more, slathering Vaseline over the purple mushroom cockhead...
Gerry felt the surging again...His balls were leaden and he swayed on the hassock, it was so strange having his Miss Helen on her knees in front of his burgeoning,suffering penis. Would he get relief? This would be so ecsquisite, if she blew him.
His last orgasm occurred when Miss Helen, entertaining a group of black male gay hairdressers had allowed him to masturbate his cock with his left hand (he was, of course right-handed) lubricated with Ben-Gay...he had to cum within ten minutes or no go...
As the queens screamed with laughter at the naked, blindfolded young attorney pounding his pud desperately on a rubber sheet laid over the Oriental rug, Miss Helen blew smoke through her nostrils and sang "Jimmy Crack Corn..."and timed Gerry with his stopwatch from the firm track team...
He'd made it with twelve seconds to spare, and licked it up while the biggest of the gay hairdressers hit his ass with a wooden spoon...humiliating, but it had been an orgasm, now PLEASE LET ME HAVE ANOTHER A HUNDRED FIVE DAYS!!!...
Miss Helen suddenly stopped rubbing, to run her Vaselined hand through his buzz cut "Darling, aren't you glad we chopped off that blue and green streaked ponytail when you first moved in, fourteen years ago?...
Gerry'd been startled by his meek agreement to her hair change proposal; up til then his coiff had been a statement..."It's MY HAIR, you asshole !" this repeated jerimiad had effectively cowed Dad,a renowned author of family therapy manuals; hell,Gerry's first trip to Juvie, sixth grade? He'd tossed a brick at a traffic cop who'd made fun of his new mohawk...But Miss Helen had a way about her...
Miss Helen went back down to rub and kiss his weiner...this continued for a while, til Gerry was shaking in anticipated orgasm..."Oh, Miss Helen...PLEASE let me cum...I'll do anything...oooh I'm so cloose..."
Then Helen sat back, and reached for Gerry's penis with her patent leather pumps...Rubbing the top of the cock with her right heel, she caused friction with the underside by rubbing the top of her other heel..this went on for about twenty minutes, and as her legs were up in the air, Gerry could get brief panty shots under the miniskirt.
A former ballet instructor,Miss Helen could hold her legs up almost indefinetely, and caused great friction to Gerry's bloated, purple member rubbing away...occasionally she would stop and put both her heels together, squeezing the cockehead painfully, and then return to rubbing the shoes against the naked, throbbing penis... Gerry's hips began shaking again,as the semen seemed to be pushing out, he had to hold back, if he drenched her new shoes in cum, it would be fifty with the strap and another twenty-five with her evil cane, but he was sooo close, was it worth it? Oh Ohhh....He was so close, he felt it coming the first one in a hundred and five DAYSS....
Miss Helen suddenly dropped her feet to the floor, just seconds before Gerry was to spurt, and stood up. "Wha--no..." Gerry looked at her in alarm. Helen helped Gerry off the footstool. "Oh Miss Helen, thank you for taking me off that awful thing, my knees were killing me, but what about my cumming?"
"Don't you love to give orders, little boy." Miss Helen guided Gerry over to the marble floor of the fireplace..."Back on your knees..." "No, it's been hours PLEASE!" Gerry was close to a tantrum. "My knees and my back are killing me, god damn..."
Miss Helen let go of Gerry and went into her bedroom...She didn't slap me...maybe things are looking up...Gerry stood on shaking legs...his penis was shriveling a bit in fear of his landlady's temper, but was still as hard as a regulation lead pipe.
"Gerald...sweetheart..."Miss Helen walked back in and stood in front of Gerry..."You must learn to obey, and not insist, don't you think I know more than you do?" Gerry hung his head..his eyes were open, however and in her hand were five jacks...the little metal stars that girls used back in the old days...
"Do you know what these are, Gerald?" Miss Helen shoved them into Gerry's downturned face."They're jacks, I left the ball in the other room... I showed them to you once." Miss Helen bunched the jacks in her hand and crushed them against Gerry's balls. the pain was excruciating. " I played with them as a girl, and you foolishly told me that you made your poor little sister swallow one of hers." Helen squeezed the jacks harder, and the points were searing his scrotum, but Gerry didn't scream, just bit his tongue ".But, darling boy, you couldn't take her to the Emergency Room, because you had a date that night...you laughed at the memory, Gerald." Miss Helen let go of Gerry's balls, and he heaved a sigh of relief. She bent down and put the jacks on the marble floor in front of his feet. "Gerald, do you really want to orgasm?" "Yess...you know I do..." Will you do something for me...it will be nice and also educational."
"Anything, Miss Helen..." Gerry began brightening up. "I asked you to kneel before, and now I insist. Kneel on the jacks, Gerald..." Gerry looked down in horror, and Miss Helen took him by the shoulders and made him kneel again. His knees, not too well from the hours on the hassock felt new stings from the little metal jacks prodding.."Now, Gerald, if you want an orgasm, I want one first. You haven't eaten me out since seven this morning, just before we went to Mass..."
Miss Helen took off her shorts and panties and put her shaved vagina in front of Gerrys tortured face. "Eat, Gerald...give me the orgasm that you want."
It was ten o'clock. Gerry was once again spread eagled to the bed, after having licked Miss Helen to about four orgasms, before collapsing under the pain of the jacks... Miss Helen had rubbed iodine on the knees, and taken him back to his prison of the morning... and was stroking his penis again...using the lotion. True to form, Gerry was again rock hard, as he'd been on and off for thirteen hours.
Helen was now in bra and panties, casually blowing on Gerry's cockhead, and then rubbing up and down feverishly on the purplish shaft..."I came over and over, Gerald...it was wonderful..." She gripped the shaft like a VW bug throttle, and began rubbing up and down in quick strokes... Please PLEASE..."
Are you ready, my sweet?" "Yes ma'am..."She rubbed faster, and Gerry's hips ground and bucked, and it was now time, Oh, my wonderful Miss Helen! Suddenly Miss Helen stopped again, and Gerry felt an ineffable pain in the tip of his poor, tortured erection..."Sweetie, I have to go watch the ten o'clock news. I forgot, there's something about the hairdressers union...I'll let you come at eleven p.m."
And she kept her word...two weeks later, on a Sunday night at eleven p.m., her grateful Gerald had a wonderful, surging orgasm, that was served back to him on Miss Helen's manicured fingers...
It was a blustery Sunday,in March of 2020. The memorial service had broken up, and the fifty-one year old managing partner of K street's most powerful law firm thanked the reverend and walked out into the cold air. A sudden stroke...one day Gerry'd just come home, and Helen was it appeared, fast asleep over a Jane Austen novel. Now, though he was heartbroken, and terribly terribly lonely for his partner of over thirty years... and had been crying daily for a week, Attorney Morin had a new problem. His padlock was still on, and he hadn't been able to find the key. Bolt cutters?
His last orgasm had been a month away, and he was grieving but horny, jerking off would help him forget Now, he could do it over and over again, whenever..."Mr. Morin?" Gerry looked over, and the attractive young redhead who had been sitting in the pew behind him was smiling at his side.
"You're Keri Ann, right? Helen's niece? You've moved here to finish college?" Gerry smiled at her. God, Keri was gorgeous, the same figure as her aunt, but what mischevious eyes! Keri smiled and handed him a letter. "Read this, please."
Dr. Towlen informed me the other day that I have angina, and not long to live. I have kept my neice, Keri Ann, informed of our life together, and sent her the many pictures that I've taken of you in various states. She has inherited the house, and needs someone to help her with college, and perhaps grad school tuition. I trust you can help her.
I love you very much, and treasure our time together.
P.S. Keri Ann has the key"
End of Book One
Page last updated 03-Mar-01 by: Altairboy@aol.com