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I gave her more credit than my classless brother and his idiot friends, who ran kissing-drills on the circles they created with their thumbs and forefingers, but I still wasn’t sure what she meant and whether it was a serious offer. The mad woman who had been loose the night John and I hadn’t kissed could change roles at the drop of a hat and when she wasn’t sabotaging me she was censoring me. But not today. This came out the blue and popped into my conscious mind before she had a chance to shut down the motors running my mouth. Before either of us knew it the question was out there. “You… you said, you’d show me how to kiss”, I faltered. “Would you?” As soon as it was passed my lips my darling censor followed it with a torrent of abuse that would have made any drill sergeant proud. The self-congratulatory pause in her tirade allowed me to forgo the normal rush of self-loathing and focus on the lurch I felt in my stomach as I asked myself what the hell I’d done. The momentary lag. The leather cuffs held me fast to the wooden cross. He moved his hand from my cock back to my nipples, pinching them firmly. My cock jumped each time he squeezed on them. Making my body move always made him smile. I was his puppet, his puppy, his plaything.He went to his tool chest and returns with what looks like a flat piece of leather covered in tiny silver spikes. It bends in his hands. He wraps it around my erection and a hundred tiny stings bite into my flesh from the purple head all the way down to the freshly shaved root. I began to shrink from the pain but he was having none of that. He began pinching my nipples again, causing me to swell and bring fresh hell to my cock; a confusing mixture of pleasure and pain.He grabbed my chin, lifting it, and locked his eyes with mine. "Giving you pain brings me pleasure," he said, a wry smile on his face. "Understood?" Yes, Sir," I managed to squeak out. I felt a fresh wave of pain shoot through me as I got harder. He leaned into me,.
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