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“Christyyy,” I whined. “I’ll face the wall. This woman is scary. She’s probably got Genghis Khan’s blood or something.”A pause. She was thinking about it. The attendant was arranging some stuff at her desk, but any moment she’d sit down and see my nastiness.“Christyyy.”“Fine. Just face the wall. I might actually need help with one of these.” Phew. Just in time. Wait. Did she say help? Christy hadn’t started to take off the red one from before, so I had time to look around. That’s when I noticed. We were all drinking, and I was losing badly, we got to the point where we were too drunk to care about money bets, and A was being a little horny. He suggested we place dares (I know a little juvenile) instead of bets. It started as small stupid stuff, downing beers, texting out wife's stupid shit, till A decided to take it up a notch. Again I was still losing, badly on this had (the bigger the bet the more serious the dare) and A daring me to strip. I wasn't going to back out, and I was. I've always been wet just being around you, and now I finally get to play with you. Please step over here." She pointed to a 7' post about the size of a telephone pole, anchored at the bottom to a platform. Three feet in front of the pole was a smaller pole. Ellis had his hands cuffed behind him around the larger pole. Grandma then tied a leather thong around his cock and scrotum, and stretched it over to the smaller pole. She attached the leather to a pulley, which was connected to a small. It was just the two of us. I was swelled up with pride and wine. As I have mentioned, my stepfather was the man who principally attracted me. I masturbated to my mental image of him between my legs. The handle of my hairbrush frequently stood in for his imagined cock. It was his name which I whispered as I urged myself toward orgasm. And it was he who was now plying me with wine. I had chosen my clothing for this special dinner with care. Under my chiffon blouse, I wore a silk chemise, sans.
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