It had been a warm summer and lots of girls were wearing short skirts or dresses. I loved watching their slim legs as they sauntered along the pavement. I spent hours guessing which were wearing stockings beneath those swaying hem-lines, standing at the window rubbing my hard cock through my trousers as I dreamed of thin blank panties just yearning to be rolled down over curvaceous thighs. I even made up names for the regular passers-by: Lisa in her black knee-length number, Tracy with her cotton print mini-dress, and Jenny, just begging to be taken from behind in her longish grey number with the kick pleats and the long back vent.
Then, one day, the flat a few doors down from me went vacant. There was a dirty “For Let” sign hung in the shop window downstairs for nearly three months before a new occupant moved in: that would be about the middle of September. I noticed the sign had gone before I saw who had moved in, but one Tuesday morning when I was nursing a hangover I opened he curtains and saw a girl coming out of the door and walking down the iron stairs at the back of the flats. She was dressed in the prefect uniform of a local school, so I guessed she must be in her final term and therefore about eighteen, although she looked pretty mature. What I noticed first was her blonde hair down the back of her dark blue blazer. As my eyes looked down her body I couldn’t believe the length of her skirt: it was so short I felt sure the school would have banned her on the spot if she stepped through the gates dressed like that. As I watched her walking down the steps I realised what she’d done. It was an old trick I’d seen some of the more forward girls do before: roll the waistband of their skirts over several times so it was hitched up short. I figured that she must be keen to impress some boy on the bus but would make sure she unrolled the top of the skirt before she went to class.
From that moment I was hooked. Because she left for school at the same time every day I made sure I was always at the window when she left home, dreaming of what I’d like to do to that slim sexy body as she strolled off towards the bus stop. I began wanking each morning as I watched her walk down the road, seeing if I could come before she turned the corner. I wondered if, one day, I could be outside my flat on some pretext and engage her in conversation. I even dreamed that, if I got her talking, I could somehow get round to inviting her up to my room. I’m thirty but I pride myself I look at least ten years younger, so I reckoned I may have been able to kid her I was nearer her age so I could get closer to those sexy hips and soft young chest. Little did I know then where my lust was going to lead me.
It must have been about the end of October when it happened. It was just after breakfast and I was asleep in front of the television, my pants still wet from where I’d jerked off watching her that morning. Suddenly I was woken by a ring on the doorbell, and when I’d focused enough to open the door I found a middle-aged woman looking at me, her eyes full of anger.
“You pervert!” she snarled before I could even mumble a greeting. “You’ve been watching my daughter. I’ve seen you hiding behind the curtains. I’ve seen you fondling yourself.”
I froze.
“Come inside,” I said weakly, trying to stop her shouting and alerting the entire neighbourhood to my sexual habits. Fortunately she stepped into the hall, and I was able to shut the door before she started shouting again.
“I’m going to have you arrested. For fuck sake she’s a schoolgirl.”
“She’s over sixteen,” I replied mildly in my defence, but she wasn’t taking any notice.
“How do you know?” she snapped. “She could be twelve for all you know.”
“She’s wearing a prefect’ s tie,” I stammered, trying to defend myself. “She must be eighteen or more.”
“Yeah,” she growled again, “she’s eighteen: just. But she’s still a schoolgirl. And how old are you? Thirty? Forty?”
The thought she could mistake me for being forty didn’t do much for my ego, but at the time the only thing on my mind was how to stop her yelling.
“Look,” I began firmly, but my voice drifted away as she stared at me defiantly.
“So you want to fuck her, eh?” she continued unabated. “You like girls in uniform do you? Men like you should be castrated. You dirty little fucker!”
I didn’t see her knee come up until it was too late. She caught me right in the groin and I collapsed onto the carpet at her feet, writhing in agony with the terrible pain from my crushed balls. As I lay there, rolling on the carpet, she stood and watched me dispassionately. Then, while I was still lying on the floor, she fetched a chair from the dining room.
“Sit on there,” she ordered, and fearing another bull busting I did as she asked. I was still clutching my groin, and sitting up in the chair was even more painful than lying on the floor, but I knew I was powerless. I hardly noticed as she unbuckled the belt from her jeans and walked around behind me, pulling my arms around the back of the chair and securing them with her belt. When this had been accomplished, and she was certain I was secure, she stood in front of me again, watching as I struggled hopelessly to free myself.
Slowly, her eyes fixed on me, she unzipped her jeans and rolled them down, stepping out of them as they lay in an untidy tangle on the floor. My eyes dropped from her face to her crutch, and despite my pain the sight of her white panties and her slender bare legs started to harden my dick.
“You’ve got a good recovery time,” she said sarcastically. “Do you want to fuck me too? Do you want me to take off my panties?”
I didn’t answer, but my cock was so hard inside my trousers words were unnecessary.
She smiled.
“Okay, loser. I’ll give you thrill.”
She pulled down her panties and I found myself staring at the dark triangle of hair around her pussy. Despite the beating she’d given to my balls I wanted her badly, and when she stepped close to me I tried arching my groin up to meet her advancing body. For a moment she looked amused at my desperate attempts to reach her clit whilst still bound to the chair. Then, still smiling, she kneed my balls as hard as she could.
The second wave of pain hit me like an electric shock, and I threw my head back so violently I nearly tipped the chair over. My mouth was open, trying to release a yell of agony, but as I brought my head forward again she caught my chin and quickly stuffed her panties into my mouth, stifling my cries. I tried to spit them out, but they were forced so far back towards my throat I couldn’t use my tongue to push them away. As I tried to catch my breath she took off her T-shirt, rolled it into the shape of a long scarf, and tied it round the back of my head and between my jaws effectively gagging me with her panties still in my mouth.
Without the power of speech and bound fast to the chair I was completely helpless, and my balls were so raw even the sight of her wearing nothing except her bra failed to make he hard. After a few seconds she bend down and removed my trainers, then removed my socks and used them to tie my legs to each leg of the chair. Finally, when she was sure I was completely bound, she unzipped my trousers and roughly exposed my aching cock.
Satisfied she stood back and admired her handiwork, and for a moment we stared at one another. When she finally broke the silence she spoke in a controlled, almost soft voice.
“Now here’s the deal. As you obviously can’t control your dick I’m going to have to take control of it for you. I could fit you with a chastity device, but my guess you’d find some way to break it open, so I intend to do something more permanent.”
She moved towards me and I instinctively flinched, expecting another knee in my exposed balls. But instead she bent her head down and gently started licking the head of my dick. The sensation was incredible, and when she opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around my throbbing penis, taking it down deep into her throat, I couldn’t help starting to ooze pre-cum. Even the feeling of her hair against my groin was incredibly arousing, and I was soon on the verge of exploding into the best orgasm of my life.
She must have been an expert at sensing just when I was about to come, because just as the first spasm pulsed through my dick she pulled her head back slightly and brought her teeth heavily down, biting my penis so hard I almost thought she would sever it completely. To go from the point of orgasm back to pain was almost more agony than the bull busting, and there were real tears in my eyes as I struggled in vain to scream through the gag.
“Well done,” she said, standing back up and admiring the marks of blood on my dick where her teeth had sunk in. “It’s called a ruined orgasm, and the idea is that you start to associate coming with pain not pleasure. That way, when your training is complete, you won’t be able to come however hard you try because all you’ll think about is the pain.”
When she’d finished speaking she left me alone in the hall and went searching around the flat. When she came back she was dressed in one of my shirts and a pair of jeans.
“I’m off now,” she said casually. “My daughter and I will pop in from time to time to feed you. You’ll have to piss and shit in the chair I’m afraid, but you’ll get used to it. I’ll rig up a more permanent tether tomorrow. Since you seem to like my daughter’s school uniform so much I’ll ask her to wear it when she visits you tonight. Don’t expect any sympathy from her though: I’ve taught her self-defence and she’s just itching to have a slave to kick in the balls. Who knows, one day, when you get to the stage that you can’t come no matter how hard you try, we might even release you for limited periods. We’ll see.”
With that she opened the door and walked out into the sunshine. Left alone I studied my crushed and bloodied dick and balls. I thought about her daughter visiting me later, tempting me in her school uniform then crushing what was left of my testicles. Despite the pain the thought of it was making me hard again, although an erection was now painful in itself with all the wounds to my dick. I would beat them, these two sluts. They would never stop me from having an orgasm, no matter how much pain they made me suffer.
All that was a few months ago. It took two months for them to destroy me, but finally they succeeded in ruining my orgasms so many times I couldn’t come no matter how hard I tried. They built a steel cage and for most of the day I’m chained up, but if I’m very good they will release me for a few hours to serve them around the house. I am never permitted to wear clothes, however, and if I make a mess of my chores they take turns to bull bust me. Sometimes the daughter invites some of her schoolgirl friends around to look at me, and they laugh as I struggle in vain to get an erection. A few have even been allowed to handle my battered dick out of curiosity, my captors knowing that it’s so raw from their punishment I can’t derive any pleasure from such stroking. Mostly though the girls use me to practice their self-defence, kicking and kneeing my balls until they’re bleeding and swollen.
So next time you look lustfully at a schoolgirl in the street remember my story. As you eye those thin legs remember how hard they can knee you in the groin. As you dream of removing those tight blouses remember how hard a schoolgirl can use a strap-on up your arse. And most of all, if you want to wank to the sight of those swinging virgin hips in a pleated miniskirt, remember your next jerk-off could be your last if her mother catches you.
Via: https://www.lushstories.com/stories/bdsm/a-mothers-revenge