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 ï>¿A Piece of His Cock

   or Punished for Ogling

   by Big Billie

   (c) Big Billie 2019.  Not to be distributed or sold for monetary gain.

   Part 1: Warts, a Cock Scar, Stitch Tunnels and Skin Flaps

   A while ago I had a fairly large wart on the left side of my stomach. 
So I decided to experiment.  I got some thin, strong twine, tied it around
the base of the wart as near to my body as I could get it and then
tightened and knotted the twine as tightly as I could.

   Well, the plan worked.  There was no great pain except for a small
pinching sensation for a day or two; and then, cut off from the blood
supply of my body, the wart came away during my early morning shower a few
days later, leaving a wound the size of a pinhead that soon calloused over
and healed.

   On my left should blade I had another, more elongated wart.  This time I
could not reach it so my wife did the necessary.  She pinched the wart
between a pair of tweezers, handed the teasers to me and told me to keep
them clamped tightly and to pull the wart away from my body.  She then
tightened and knotted some twine around this wart, as I had previously done
around the first wart, and we got the same result.

   When I was a baby I was tightly and very messily circumcised.  I was
left with a thick, jagged, uneven, untidy and ugly circumcision scar all
round my cock, replete with scarified tissue, stitch tunnels and unsightly
skin flaps.

   One day I threaded a needle with my thin, strong twine and pushed it
through one of my stitch tunnels, blunt, eyed-end first to avoid pricking
myself.  I then removed the twine from the needle and tied and knotted it
as tightly as I could.  The stitch tunnel was only a few millimeters long,
but even so there was quite a bit of skin tied together.  Nevertheless,
there was no serious pain and in about a week, with the flow of blood
stopped, the skin separated, the twine came away, and the stitch tunnel was
converted into a stitch valley running between two small pyramidal lumps of
skin which had been formed by the pulling together of stitch tunnel flesh.

   Good, I thought.  Never again will I have to squeeze dirt and pus out of
that particular hole in my cock.  Pleased with what I had done I repeated
the procedure on my other stitch tunnel and the outcome was similar.  Hey,
I thought to myself, after the way I was sliced up the first time a surgeon
took a knife to my cock I am not letting the medical profession anywhere
near my wedding tackle; but this seems to be a cheap and cheerful
alternative to expensive cosmetic surgery.

   I got rid of three ugly skin flaps in the same way.  This time too I
pulled them away from my cock with the tweezers and my wife tied the twine
around them as tightly, and as close to the cock shaft, as she could.  Yet
again, in about a week, the skin flaps came away.

   Well, victory, I thought.  It was a bit roughhewn but at least my cock
was rather less ugly than it had been before; and there was no significant
discomfort - I was even able to enjoy a bit of sexual hanky-panky with my
wife while the twine was attached.

   Part 2: Madam, My Strict Wife

   My wife's name is Rachel, but I am required to address her at all times
as Madam.  She is youthful (more than 11 years younger than me), tall and
elegant, with beautiful, finely chiseled features.  Before we married, men
swarmed after this stunning, drop dead gorgeous lady like bees around a
honey pot, and she still has any number of male admirers who would take her
from me if they could.

   Madam was an only child.  Her rich father spoilt her rotten, and her
mother danced attendance on her.  She grew up proud, willful, haughty, and
stridently insistent on her rights and on her own way.

   I am of much lower social origins than Madam, and at first I had no idea
why she picked me out for marriage in preference to loads of suitors who
were younger, richer, more handsome and more eligible in every way.

   I have a shrewd idea now, though.  My wife is a strict, self-confident
dominatrix.  She wanted a husband who was pliant and obedient to her will,
and that's me, folks.  I am dazzled by my wife's beauty.  I am her slave
and she can twist me around her little finger.  If she so much as vaguely
hints that she might leave me I will do anything to placate her anger and
displeasure.

   Sexually my wife keeps me on a very tight rein.  Intercourse is strictly
controlled and occurs entirely at her pleasure and discretion.  "Yes," she
will say.  "You have been a good boy today.  You may have your wicked way
with me later."

   Then, when I do get my "wicked way," Madam teases and torments me beyond
endurance.  She will surrender her charms grudgingly, a little at a time,
all the while telling me what a beast I am and how I don't deserve her.  If
I am forward or over-eager she will slap my face and tell me contemptuously
that I am a dirty swine and that I am getting nothing more from her until I
learn to control my lusts.

   But Madam is capricious, and sometimes she unexpectedly relents; she
grudgingly concedes the contest, protesting all the time that I am an
animal and that later she will punish me for my filthy depravity.

   And madam does punish me too, usually with a well smacked bottom as
described below.  She also rejoices in the fact that I am tightly and
messily circumcised.  Her ex cathedra judgment on this is that I deserve
the snip for my filthy and lascivious urges.  In her view, the mutilation
was not sufficiently drastic and I was not adequately punished.  Thus Madam
thoroughly enjoyed the tying of my stitch tunnels and the twining off of my
skin flaps, and she made the most of her opportunities to tie up and remove
little pieces of legitimate cock skin at the same time as she removed the
skin flaps.  But she considered that to be only the beginning and argued
that Justice called for a far more drastic mutilation.

   Part 3: A Nubile Demoiselle Ogled

   Soon after this amateur cock surgery Madam and I went on holiday to the
south of France.  One day, as we lay on the beach, a young French girl,
beautiful as only young French girls can be, ran up the beach and past us
to buy doughnuts and drinks from a vending stall.  We knew who she was. 
She was Cecile, lodging at the same hotel as we were with her mother and
father.  We also knew that she was just sixteen years old.

   Oh wow!  What is it about teenaged girls that so turns on us older men?
Why does scarcely legal and illegal jail bait feature so prominently on
Internet porn sites?

   Well, if you had seen Cecile as I saw her on that summer day you would
know the answers to those questions.  Like most girls on France's
Mediterranean beaches she was topless.  Indeed, all she was wearing was a
virtually invisible black thong and nothing else.  As she ran past us her
firm, pert breasts and the large pink areolas of her luscious nipples
jiggled, wobbled and danced provocatively.  Her trim waist was adorned with
a large jewel dangling and swinging from her pierced belly button.  I could
also clearly see the two little fleshy hollows where the taut nubile
tendons of her quivering inner thighs rose to meet the gusset of her thong;
and I observed tufts of black pussy hair blatantly protruding from each
side of the thong gusset.  My excited cock stiffened involuntarily in my
thin, tight swimming trunks and Madam noticed the tumescence.

   Then, having made her purchases, Cecile ran back down the beach, the
cheeks of her bare bottom rippling and quivering just as temptingly as her
breasts had done a short while before, and, in the bright sunlight, her two
dimples of Venus clearly visible above her naked rump, at both sides of her
lower back.  My cock got even harder and again Madam took due note.  She
got up and sat astride me as I lay on my back on the sand.  Then, with her
flattened left hand, hard and with real venom onto my right cheek:

   Slap!!!

   (Short pause to give it time to tingle.)

   Slap!!!

   "That's for the tits!"

   Then, with her flattened right hand, hard and with real venom onto my
left cheek:

   Slap!!!

   (Short pause to give it time to tingle.)

   Slap!!!

   "And that's for the arse--one for each cheek!"

   Then, while I was still in a state of shock:

   "That's just for openers.  Just wait until I get you back to the hotel
room.  Then I'll really sting and tingle your cheeks for you; and I don't
mean the cheeks of your face!"

   Part 4: Strapped and Caned

   When we arrived back at our room Madam was fuming.  She angrily flounced
over to our suitcase and took out the tawse, the cane, a bottle of linseed
oil and the twine.  She reserved the last item for use later and took the
other three in hand.

   "Take off your clothes," she ordered, and soon I was standing naked
before her.  "Here," she said, "Oil the strap and the rattan and then stand
in the corner with your face to the wall until I get back.

   My wife then left our lodgings.

   Madam takes the tawse and the cane everywhere we go so that she can
punish me at will.  The tawse is a fearsome strap, split into two tails at
the end.  In days of yore similar tawses were used to punish naughty
Scottish school children.  They were usually applied across the hands but
the tawse is also deadly effective as a bottom smacker.  The thin, whippy
rattan cane iswhat is known as a junior cane.  It is very thin, rather less
than the thickness of a pencil.  It is too light to cause serious or
permanent damage but, even so, it stings and tingles like hell.  It is, of
course, nowhere near thick or firm enough for use as a walking stick; it
has been developed solely for purposes of corporal punishment, almost
always across the bottom.

   I took the linseed oil and its applicator and carefully oiled the tawse
and the thin rattan cane to make them nice and supple for my forthcoming
punishment.  Then, as instructed, I stood in the corner of the room with my
face to the wall.  I remained there, naked and humiliated, for fully 50
minutes, until Madam condescended to return to our room and commence
operations.

   She took the tawse in her right hand.

   "Stand there and bend over!"

   Then, before I had time to comply:

   Slap!!!

   The tawse bit into the bare meat of my backside with a sharp crack.

   "Come on.  You know the drill.  Legs straight, fingers on toes."

   Slap!!!

   "And quick about it!"

   Slap!!!  Slap!!!!  Slap!!!!

   "Come on!  Are you taking the piss?  You are beginning to annoy me!"

   And so it went on, with a series of between fifteen and twenty
gratuitous slaps across my bare bum until I succeeded in bending over to
Madam's satisfaction.

   Next my punishment began in earnest.

   First Madam confirmed the first part of my chastisement: "A dozen with
the strap."

   Then she gave them to me, as hard as she could, at intervals of about
four seconds so that just as I felt the escalating tingling from one slap
the next one hit my naked bum.  It really stung and tingled and on three
separate occasions I was forced to rise to my feet and cavort around the
room like a naked chump, frantically rubbing at my bare rump.  But every
time that I did that Madam discounted the previous slap thus adding an
extra three wallops to the total.  Then she stood me in the corner again,
this time with my hands on my head to stop me from rubbing my bum, and left
me there for a further fifty minutes.

   Then came the second part of my chastisement, the caning, and Madam
again pronounced the sentence: "Six with the rattan."

   Then she let me have them, again at four second intervals, as hard as
she could lay them on, bunching them as closely as she could across those
parts of the buttocks between my bum hole and my bollock bag.  Again I
couldn't take it with equanimity.  I howled plenty and twice I was forced
to rise, yet again clutching and rubbing my beleaguered arse meat.  For
that I got two extra strokes.  By the time Madam had finished with me there
were eight livid cuts welted into the fleshy meat of my bum; they were
tightly bunched, overlapping, and already starting to turn blue.

   Then it was hands on head in the corner again for another 50 minutes.

   "Stay in position," instructed Madam, "I haven't finished with you yet."



   Part 5: Cock Punishment

   At long last madam returned to me and told me to face her.

   Slap!!!

   The flat of Madam's right hand again cracked against my left cheek.

   Slap!!!

   Then the right cheek got the same treatment from her left hand.

   "You dirty old man!" she fumed.  "You've got a wife well over a decade
younger than you are, yet still you cannot keep your vile, filthy lusts
under control.  You mouth salivates and your cock stiffens at every
scantily clad bimbo within range.  And God only knows what foul and
perverted thoughts run through you polluted mind, like turds through a
sewer pipe.  I've strapped you and I've caned you for it time and time
again until my arm aches, and it has all had no effect at all.  Well, my
boy, now I'm going to take you in hand.  I'll curb your lusts for you and
enforce virtuous and well-governed behaviour.  Come here!"

   Well, even by Madam's standards she was coming on a bit strong, so it
was with apprehension that I approached her.

   My wife then pushed her left forefinger underneath the base of my cock,
lifted it up, and pinched a large patch of my frenulum between her right
thumb and forefinger.

   "Now," she said, "Place your right thumb and forefinger between mine and
you cock shaft and squeeze hard."

   I obediently complied with this order, and found that I had a big thick
wodge of sensitive cock skin in my grasp.

   "Next, pull your cock skin forward, away from your cock shaft.  Harder!
Go on, really tug at it!  Right!  Now don't move a muscle.  Hold it still,
exactly like that!"

   Then, without another word, Madam took the thin, strong twine and looped
it around my frenulum and right against the cock shaft.  She tied a knot in
the twine, pulled the loop as tight as she could, and secured it with a
second knot on top of the first one.  Then she looped the twine around my
cock skin again, and again tied it up as tight as she could.  Then she did
the same thing a third time, and then a fourth time.  And each time she
managed to get the twine just a little bit closer to my cock shaft so that
it enclosed a bit more of my frenulum.

   "If this twine comes off your cock before I take it off, our marriage is
over."

   This time the twine really cut into my skin and, unlike when madam tied
up the skin flaps on my cock, it really hurt.

   Now I have studied JPEG images of circumcised cocks on the Internet and
I have noticed that a lot of you guys in the US (probably a majority) do
not have any frenulum at all since it was completely excavated when your
cocks received their routine neonatal chop; and in many other cases cut
cocks in the US have only a vestigial frenulum.

   This was not the case with me, however.  The lower part of my frenulum
had been chopped off, but from my circumcision scar to the dimpled ridge on
the underside of my glans I had quite a luxuriant frenulum, replete with
sensitive, nerve enriched fleshy folds.  My circumcision may have been
tight, drastic and messy, but at least I had that consolation, and my
frenulum was my pride and joy.  "But not for much longer," I thought.  And
I ruefully contemplated its forthcoming removal as I continued to wince at
the savage, pitiless bite of the twine.  What worried me even more, though,
was Madam's threat that if I removed the twine she would leave me.  She was
a cruel, spiteful dominatrix, but the more she abused me the more I loved
her.  Well, those of you that have read Venus in Furs will know what I
mean.

   Unlike when my skin flaps were removed nothing much happened to my
trapped cock skin for quite a while.  Three times Madam tightly encircled
and entrapped it with yet more twine on the grounds that the previous twine
might be working loose.

   Eventually, after more than a month of constant agony for me, it became
clear that my frenulum, deprived of a flow of blood, was dying.  Even then,
however, the skin would not come away like my warts and my skin flaps had
done.  So in the end Madam resorted to direct action.

   The good news was that she condescended to use a local anesthetic to
ease my discomfort.  Soon my frenulum and the area around the twine on my
cock had been smeared with a topical pain-killing cream.  Then madam took a
pack of cheap assorted razor cutters that she had bought from our local
Pound Shop.  She removed the see-through plastic packaging bubble from
around the smallest razor cutter, took the razor in her hand, pushed out
the blade from its plastic casing and, gently scratching, chipping and
cutting at my cock skin on the outer side of the twine, she teased off my
frenulum, pulled away the twine, and dropped the severed skin into a small
phial of formaldehyde, where it joined the three skin flaps and their
adjoining skin that she had cut off from my cock earlier.  Oh wow!  That
razor cutter was only a few centimeters long.  But when wielded by a
dominatrix of genius it had more than enough evil intent and cutting power
to chop off my frenulum and to rob my cock of its sexual birthright!

   Madam, with a wicked gleam in her eye, then gently scratched and tickled
at the back of my scrotum where it joined my crotch and started to talk
dirty.

   "You filthy, disgusting old man," she fumed, shaking the phial of
formaldehyde in front of my nose with the hand that was not tickling my
balls.  "You can't curb your foul, dirty lust, can you?  That little bimbo
Cecile really turns you on doesn't she.  Just think of her pert, bouncing,
nubile titties!  Wouldn't you just love to cup them, naked, into the palms
of your hard, horny old hands?  Wouldn't you just love to get your fingers
under the gusset of her tight black thong and between her plump, hairy
pussy lips?  Wouldn't you just love to get her naked in bed with you at
midnight and let nature take its course?  Well just watch it, my boy!  I'll
tighten your lusts and luxuries for you!  I've had your frenulum.  Next
time I'll take your balls!"

   And so on.

   Meanwhile I had been deprived of sex for so long, and I was so
over-excited by my wife's kinky verbals, and by her vivid evocation of the
bodily charms of the delectable teenaged temptress Cecile, that my cock was
soon as stiff as a poker.  At which point Madam removed her hand from my
bollock bag, flattened it, and used it to slap me very smartly across the
face.

   "Filth!  Filth!  Filth!  Filth!  Filth!  Filth!"

   And every time she said "Filth!" she slapped my face for me.

   Then she took up the tawse, bent me over, and gave me six of the best
across my bare bum.

   It was only as I thought things through after Madam had put me in the
corner with my hands on my head that I realized why she had stiffened my
cock for me.  She wanted to make the skin on my erect shaft as tight as a
drum skin so that the wound on my cock would be pulled open and enlarged.
When I inspected my wedding tackle later I ruefully noted that there was a
large, bloody, uneven, circular wound on the underside of my cock shaft
that looked like an enormous burst blister with the blistered skin cut away
from it.  This hole in my cock skin was almost as big as a British two
pence piece and its bottom outer edge met my circumcision scar forming an
uneven circle touched by a tangent line.

   Part 6: Paying the Price

   Over the course of the next few weeks the skin grew back over the large
circular patch of wounded skin on the underside of my cock.  But, alas,
what remained of my frenulum after my neonatal circumcision was now gone
forever; in place of the delicious little patch of stringy, twangy, nerve
enriched, delightfully sensitive inner membrane of frenulum there was now a
jagged white patch of thin, insensitive scar tissue.  Now, when my cock is
erect, the flesh is pulled as tight as a drum skin up its stiffened shaft;
indeed, it is pulled even tighter than it was before.  It is uncomfortable,
painful even, especially when it is subjected to the sharp, rasping, in-out
friction of sexual intercourse.  My keratinized glans still retains some
sensitivity, but only a fraction of what it would have felt if it had not
calloused over as a result of my neonatal chop.  And I doubt that the large
disc of scar tissue where my frenulum should be gives me any extra pleasure
at all.  My wife is still exquisitely beautiful, and I love it when I am
allowed a sexual coupling with her.  But alas that I ever ogled the nubile
and delectable Cecile!  For that peccadillo Madam has inflicted a strict,
everlasting punishment; I feel it, and it makes me wince, every time I go
into her.

   ____________________________________ Please email any comments,
criticisms, suggestions, etc., to:

   bigbillie1302@yahoo.co.uk

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