From authorsix@hotmail.com Fri Oct 16 13:43:33 1998
Path: news.iconnect.net!chicago-news-feed1.bbnplanet.com!news.bbnplanet.com!newsfeed.enteract.com!ix.netcom.com!news.alt.net!qz!not-for-mail
From: "Dream Spinner" <authorsix@hotmail.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Subject: ST: At Their Mercy - Part 12 (m/t/b, scat, ws, humiliation)
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Date: 16 Oct 1998 19:43:33 GMT
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Lines: 1324
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
Message-ID: <16579eli$9810161543@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/16579.txt>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <19981006030158.10497.qmail@hotmail.com>
Xref: news.iconnect.net alt.sex.stories.moderated:4745 alt.sex.stories:236648
AT THEIR MERCY - PART 12
WELCOME TO ARM PITS
My masters want me to keep a Journal. In it you will read about scat
and water games and the humiliation of a forty-four-year-old man by
three preteen boys and a fourteen-year-old. You will also read about
sexual activities between us and other teens and adults. My masters
and I would like to give special thanks to T** and J**o (Sept 13),
K******* (Sept 19), R****** (Sept 21), Sc***, G*****, M****** and J**h
(Sept 25); and St**** (Sept. 26) for the ideas in this Part. I hope
you will enjoy this account of my new life with my masters. Comments
can be forwarded to the boys and the author at authorsix@hotmail.com
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 1998
This is the first entry of my new Journal. My masters want me to
describe everything that happens to me from this day on, and that is a
big responsibility. I am very proud that they trust me to do this and
I will keep as good a journal as I can for them.
I moved into my new home today. It was a big job moving but my
masters were a big help. It is not the home I was planning on moving
into, and it is very different from the home I used to live in, but my
masters say that this one will meet our needs much better than the
other two, and they know about such things. I will also not be taking
the job that I thought I was going to take either, but my masters said
they would explain it to the people I was going to work for. I am so
very lucky to have them look after me.
I will describe the different rooms in the house as I tell you the
things that happen. We can start with my bedroom. It is much smaller
than my bedroom in my old home, but it is all that I need. It is
eight feet by six feet and is in the basement corner under the stairs.
I have a nice comfortable mattress to sleep on, a pail for me to shit
in, and a jug for me to piss in. Jay has instructed me to freeze my
piss at the end of each day in the large deep freeze in the basement
so we can use it later for special occasions. That is also why they
want me to take my dump in a pail instead of the toilet. Why they
want me to save my shit I have no idea, but I am sure they have a good
reason.
Two walls of my bedroom have shelves from floor to ceiling where I
can put the different toys and presents I am so lucky to get from my
masters. As I tell you some of the things that we do in my new home,
I will tell you about some of the toys and gifts too. The boys also
want me to tell you how I feel about all this. Right now I am very
tired having spent the day unpacking and arranging everything in our
new home.
SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 1998
The boys arrived after lunch with Josh and he drove us down town
in an old truck. We stopped at an adult sex store and Jay gave me
three hundred dollars and a list of things from a catalogue the boys
had found on the net. I was surprised they would have so much money
to spend, but Master Jay said not to worry about it, and that there
was lots more where they had gotten it. He just winked at my other
masters and I knew that it was not my place to know where it had come
from. I noticed that Jay had a wallet just like I used to have, but
of course I have no need for a wallet anymore. It is very flattering
that he has copied me and gotten a wallet just like mine.
The boys said that all these things I was to buy were for me.
Many of them I have never heard of and I don't know what they are for,
but for me to have refused would have been ungrateful. Although I
have known about adult shops, I have never gone in one and a wave of
shame passed over me as I entered the xxx store. Once I entered it
was even worse. Not only was I feeling very embarrassed about being
in an adult sex store, but I was feeling guilty as I searched through
the shelves for the things the boys wanted me to buy. I had always
been of the opinion that only perverts and degenerates would go into
such a store, and even though the store was very clean, I felt filthy
just being there. To make it even more humiliating, the cashier was a
young blond girl half my age in a leather skirt and revealing halter
top. I could only imagine what she thought of me as she bagged my
purchases.
We then went to a bar in the more disreputable part of the town.
The man there gave the boys several tables and chairs and some other
furnishings like ashtrays, glasses and napkins. He also gave them
half a dozen boxes of alcohol. I do not know what the arrangements
were of course, but I did hear Master Jarred tell him that they would
have the pictures for him later in the month. Considering the part of
town we were in and the type of person he was, I was sure that
whatever was happening, it was illegal. I watched everything and
everyone carefully, ready to protect my masters if I had to.
After it got dark we went to a maintenance yard and the boys
picked the lock so we could get in. We went to one of the storage
sheds and stole a bunch of desks and a blackboard and tack board and
some other school stuff. Master Jarred said it was not really
stealing because it was all extra stuff and just getting dusty so we
might as well make use of it. We stored all of these things in the
garage.
Just before my masters and Josh left, Jay said Sunday was a very
special day so I had better go straight to bed and get my rest. I
asked why it was so special, but Master Jay said he would explain
tomorrow.
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 13, 1998
I got up early this morning and shaved my body so it was perfectly
smooth and hairless. My masters like it that way, and I wanted to
please them on this special day. As soon as they came in the house,
they took off their clothes because they like to go naked in our new
home just like in the old one. That is not something they can do in
their own homes, which I think is a shame. They have beautiful bodies
and are at that perfect age where they still have the soft round
contours of boyhood but are developing the muscle tone of teenagers.
They certainly should not have to cover such perfect bodies up.
As they took off their clothes, I picked them up off the floor
wherever they dropped them. They might be my masters, but they still
behave like boys in many ways. I hung their shirts and pants up in
the closet in their bedroom and folded and put their socks and
underwear in the drawers. Each of my masters has a drawer just for
his things. The dresser used to be mine, but they have much more need
for it because I only have the special underwear that they all signed
when we had a special bonding ceremony last month. Of course I have
my diapers and plastic pants for when the boys want to play games, but
they are better just stacked on one of the shelves in my bedroom. I
also have one suit, a set of casual clothes and a set of dressier
clothes, and of course my new little boy clothes. The boys let me
keep them in their bedroom because I am not responsible enough to look
after them myself.
While I put away their things, the boys went to the party room.
The party room is where we have the leather sofa and recliner, glass
coffee table, and stereo that used to be in the living room in my old
home, and several more leather chairs we bought to match. When I
joined them, the boys told me why this day is so special. It is
exactly four months since they tricked me into going down in the
ravine and gave me the Rohypnol that started all this. What a
surprise that four months have gone by!
"To celebrate this day, each of us made up a little speech why
this day is so special," explained Master Jay, who is the leader of
the boys. He looked over at Master Billie.
"This day is really special for me," began Master Billie, "because
I have a man who worships my butt. I really like to have my butt
worshipped."
Little redheaded Billie smiled at me with those big greenish eyes
and I knew just what the nine-year-old wanted me to do. I got down on
my knees and he turned around and bent over. I shuffled over to him
and stuck my nose in his butt crack and inhaled deeply. "I love the
smell of your butt," I told him. "It is so fragrant, and smells so
good, I am so lucky you let me sniff it." I ran my tongue along his
crack and closed my eyes with the delightful taste of his crack. I
knew he had not washed it that morning just for me. I spread apart
his cheeks and licked the cute little pucker. It quivered and I knew
that Master Billie was enjoying this very much so I licked it even
more.
"I love the taste of your asshole, Master Billie," I said, so
happy that I was allowed to do this. "It tastes just like a young
boy's asshole should taste, nice and musky and natural. I could lick
and suck on your hole all day." Billie giggled and I knew he liked me
saying that, and I meant what I said. My masters have taught me the
pleasures of sucking young boys' butts. I ran my tongue along his
crack, and darted it in and out of his hole, and I put my lips against
his pucker and kissed it and sucked on it. My other masters all
laughed and said what a great asslicker I was. I knew they were
poking fun at me. I might be their slave, but I am not stupid, and
although I found what I was doing stimulating, I knew that act was one
of the most degrading a man can perform. Billie finally straightened
up and turned around and I saw his little two-inch boy dick was
standing straight up so I knew I had done a good job.
My cock itself was partially erect. Now I know that for a grown
man to eagerly drop to his knees to lick and suck on the asshole of a
young boy is demeaning. That is what you tell someone to do if you
dislike them, and although I have an overwhelming desire to please my
masters, that does not mean I don't feel humiliation and shame. At
the same time it did make me feel good doing it, because I enjoy the
smell and taste of young boys' butts, and because I enjoy making
Billie feel good. At the same time I know that many people would find
what I was doing sick. I have become a pervert and there are many
hours I lay on my mattress unable to sleep because of the guilt. I
find this mixture of feeling both good and bad very confusing.
"This day is really special for me," said Master Tyler next,
interrupting my morose thoughts, "because I like to have my feet
worshipped, and nobody does a better job of worshipping feet than you,
Arm Pit."
I was so proud to get such praise from him. I went right over to
him, still on my knees. The eleven-year-old was lying on the recliner
and he laid back as I sat down before his feet. He had been wearing
his Reeboks and had what my masters like to call sneaker feet. That
means their feet smell just like hot sweaty sneakers, which is the
best smell for boy feet. As I knelt before him and sniffed at his
feet, my dick began to grow with excitement, causing my underwear to
stick out and making the boys all laugh. That made me feel even
better because I like to make my masters happy, but at the same time
deep down inside I knew that they were laughing at me, and that was
humiliating. Besides, despite all the times I have had an erection in
front of the boys, I still feel embarrassed each time it happens.
I ran my tongue over the back of Tyler's feet and the taste of his
salty sweat and sneaker canvas made my saliva really flow. I let it
run over his feet and then licked it up and swallowed it. It was so
erotic licking up my spit after it had picked up the flavour of his
young feet. I licked the sides, and his damp soles, and then I wedged
my tongue between his toes and licked off his toe jam. When I began
to suck on each of his toes, Tyler began to jerk off, and by the time
I got to his last toe he was bucking and shivering with his dry
orgasm. I looked up at him, and he grinned back over at me and I knew
I had pleased him too. It had been so good the tip of my dick was wet
with pre-cum. Again, some may have felt it degrading for a grown man
to grovel before an eleven-year-old boy and to lick his feet, but I
feel it is a privilege.
"This day is real special for me," said Master Jarred, "because
you are the first dude to have sucked my dick, and you are the
neediest cocksucker around."
I am, and I enjoy the taste of young cock as much as I enjoy the
taste of young ass and boy feet. I readily shuffled over to the
fourteen-year-old where he was laying on the sofa and I began to lick
his stiff boy cock. It had grown over a quarter of an inch since we
had first met, and at five-and-a-quarter inches, it was the biggest of
the four boys. I was so privileged to be able to lick it and savour
its fresh boy taste. Now I know a lot of people would say what I was
doing was even more perverted than what I'd done with Billie and
Tyler, and that bothers me because I really like sucking cock and I do
not see what is so wrong about it.
I ran my tongue along the shaft, and then up and over the knob,
savouring his young boy taste. His flesh was really hot and I put my
mouth over his cockhead and sucked on it gently. It was such a great
feeling to have his young teen cock throbbing in my mouth and knowing
how much pleasure he was feeling. I went slow, and he strained to
hold back. When he finally succumbed and shot out his fresh boy
cream, I knew he was in heaven, and so was I. I swallowed his hot cum
eagerly and then kept on sucking on his hard dick until I had sucked
out all he had to offer. As I sat back with the tart taste of fresh
cum on my lips and with my breath smelling like dick, I didn't care
what others thought about me. The boys appreciated what I was doing,
and that was enough for me.
"This day is real special for me," said Master Jay, "because you
are the first asshole I have ever owned. You belong to me, man, like
totally."
"Yes," I replied as, still on my knees, I bowed in awe before
Master Jay. He did own me, body and soul. "I am yours, to do with as
you wish. I live to obey you and please you Master."
Jay smiled down at me with that strange smile of his, as if he
could read my mind, and as if he was thinking some deep secret. He
probably was doing just that, because he knows a lot of secrets. He
had me straighten up and then he bent his head and kissed me, right on
the lips. His tongue went in my mouth and stroked my tongue. That
was so hot, and I was so grateful to him for his love. He worked up a
mouth of spit and then puckering his lips he let it flow from his
mouth to mine, and as we parted lips a rope of spittle connected our
mouths. Telling me to stand up, he reached down and took my swollen
cock out of my underwear. He slowly jerked on it, and then brought
his fingers up to my face. I sniffed the odour of my cock on his
fingers, and licked them. He smiled again, with that deep stare.
Reaching behind me, he ran his middle finger along my butt crack and
slipped the tip up my hole. Removing it, he again brought his hand to
my face and I similarly sniffed the musky odour clinging to it and
then licked his middle finger.
"You'd fucking lick your own asshole if I told ya and ya could,
wouldn't ya?"
"Yes, Master Jay," I replied, looking up at him hesitantly.
He sounded sort of disgusted with me, and I did not know what I'd
done to displease him. Then he smiled, and that wicked, devilish grin
told me everything was all right. He ran his hand over my bald head.
"Yeah, I own ya," he said with a grin. "Go get dressed. We're
takin' ya out for a while."
The place we went to I have never been to before. It was a tattoo
parlour. The boys talked to the man, and then he had me strip. On my
right ass cheek Billie had him tattoo "I am a butt sucker" and on my
right thigh Tyler had him tattoo "Boy feet make me horny". Jarred had
him tattoo on my left chest "I love to suck cock". Jay had him tattoo
on the back of my neck, "Property of Jay". He tattooed the boys
signatures on my other butt cheek, and then tattooed my ass pucker the
seven colours of the rainbow. Finally, he put something on my dick so
it would have no feeling, and then he tattooed it with alternating red
and white rings like a candy cane, ending with my knob a bright cherry
red.
The boys had him pierce my right nipple and put in a small gold
nipple ring. They said maybe some other time they would add more
rings. The boys really think the ring is cool.
On the way home we picked up four litres of pop, a large chocolate
cake, a bucket of ice cream, and some snacks. Back at home we put
four candles in the cake and lit them and sang a happy anniversary to
ourselves.
"Now," said Master Jay, "this cake is something special for us to
eat to remember this day by. We'd like you to have something special
to eat to remember this day too." Going over to the cupboard, he got
out the crystal salad bowl and gave it to me.
"Hope you got to take a crap, Arm Pit," said Jay.
"I'll try, Master Jay," I replied, wondering just what this had to
do with eating but knowing my master would explain it to me when it
was time. Placing the bowl on the floor and squatting over it, I
strained to empty my bowels, and fortunately I did have to go. The
boys all stood around and watched me and cheered as each turd eased
out of my body. I was totally embarrassed performing that basic
bodily function in the presence of the four boys. I felt like I was
some animal just taking a dump out in the open, and that there was no
way that young boys should be watching what I was doing.
"Think you can fill this?" asked Master Tyler as he handed me an
empty pop bottle.
"I'll sure try Master Tyler," I said, and aiming my dick at the
opening, I did manage to fill at least three-quarters of it.
"Good, now you have something to drink and to eat on this special
day too," he said.
I looked at the bottle and bowl and then at the four boys. They
all stood there grinning back at me. I looked again at the body
wastes that had just exited my body and that the boys were now
expecting me to ingest again. The boys sat down at the table and
motioned for me to sit down on the floor. Saying it would be a waste
of time to use forks and plates, my masters just scooped up the cake
with their fingers.
"Go ahead, Arm Pit," dig in, said Billie, nodding to the bowl.
I looked at it, and then up at him. My four masters sat there
watching in anticipation. I hesitantly reached in and scooped up a
small bit of the warm, sticky paste with my finger tips. I looked
again at Master Billie.
"Go ahead, eat your shit, dude. It's good for ya."
I hesitantly raised my fingers to my lips, and the stink almost
made me gag. I quickly stuffed my fingers in my mouth and sucking off
the foul paste, I swallowed as fast as I could so I would taste it for
as little as possible. I felt like vomiting but I knew if I did the
boys would make me eat that too. I withdrew my fingers, a rotten,
stinging taste left in my mouth.
"Fucker downed that fast," giggled Billie, and the four boys all
laughed.
"Go ahead and eat it all up, we expect to see a clean plate young
man," said Jarred.
I reached in again, taking a big handful this time, and the boys
really hooted.
"Aww, fuck, look at him. He loves the stuff!"
"Course, he's Arm Pit ain't he?"
"Freakin'!"
The way I had figured it, the faster I ate my shit the sooner this
would be over with. If I took my time, I would vomit for sure. I
hated the foul taste and the stink, and I knew this was sick, but they
were my masters and I had to obey them. Even so, although I wanted to
please them, it did not mean I had to like what I was doing. Eating
my shit was a degrading, disgusting act, and I felt filthy, but my
masters wanted me to do it, and so I did it.
"Lick your fingers off, dude," instructed Billie. I raised my
shit-coated fingers before my mouth and tentatively extended my
tongue. I had to do this fast too. "Finger-licking good, ain't it?"
he asked as I began to rapidly lick the filthy brown paste off my
fingers.
"Yes, Master Billie, it is very good," I replied reluctantly, and
the boys all hooted again.
After the cake, the boys ate the ice cream, the four of them using
spoons and eating right out of the container. They told me to wipe my
ass with my fingers and to lick my fingers clean, and to do it over
and over until when I wiped my hole my fingers were just as clean
before as after. The first time I had a large smear of shit, but with
each subsequent wipe there was less and less. By the time they were
finished the ice cream, I had cleaned my ass.
The boys hung around for a while, playing on the computer that was
now in their bedroom. I went down to my room and lay down and rested.
I knew if they wanted me they would let me know. As I lay there, I
looked at my nipple ring and the new colours of my dink. The life I
was leading now was so different from the life I once knew, a life
that I missed terribly, and a life I wished I could go back to if I
could only turn the clock four months and a day back.
On the other hand, it was exciting doing different things. My
other life had been so boring, but life with my masters promised to
make up for that and then some. I could not wait to see what was
next, and they always came up with new ideas. They told me that a lot
of men and boys in England were writing, and that right at that moment
the boys had more ideas than they knew what to do with. Even though I
have begun each of the preceding summaries of my life acknowledging
the men and boys who have suggested the idea, I am still surprised
that anyone would read about this, never mind write to the boys with
ideas, but they said it was so, and I know my masters would never lie
to me.
SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 1998
Jarred came by after supper and told me to shower and shave.
Taking a tube of KY jelly, he squirted so much up my ass I felt like I
had to take a shit. He then gave me some new clothes to wear, a tight
pair of black jeans and a black jeans vest that he told me to leave
unbuttoned. After I dressed he and Josh drove me down town to an area
I have never been in. He showed me a two-story building that had a
sign out front announcing it was Club Roma. He said it was a gay
bathhouse. Taking me to the corner, he told me I was to hang around
there and offer sex to any of the men going to and from the bathhouse
at thirty dollars a job. Jarred also said I had to tell the men they
were to use condoms, or if they wanted blow jobs, they could not cum
in my mouth. He smiled at me and pinched my cheek and said that after
all the trouble he and the guys have gone to, they didn't want me
catching any diseases because they expected us to have a long
relationship. He and Josh then parked across the street to watch.
I have never approached a prostitute in my life, male or female,
and the only thing I knew about it was what I'd seen on television. I
had no idea how a person went about initiating a conversation, or how
a person let the other know his price. Fortunately for me, the first
man to come by was leaving the bathhouse and he took the lead. He was
a bit younger than I, in his mid- forties, and although a little on
the heavy side and balding, he was not that bad looking.
He walked by slowly, and then paused and came back. He commented
about it being a nice evening or some simple thing like that, and then
hinted that he was lonely. My heart was pumping madly when I replied
that he did not have to be, and he said he was hot for a blow job. I
replied that it would be thirty dollars and that he couldn't come in
my mouth. At that moment my mouth was so dry I could barely speak,
and I felt embarrassed as hell telling a man I would suck his cock for
money.
To my surprise, it was as simple as that. We went in the back
alley and he pulled down his pants. I knelt before him and took his
limp cock in my mouth. It did not take long for it to get hard. I
found it was a marked difference compared to the young cock that I had
been sucking these past several months, not just in size but in the
whole atmosphere.
This was plain and simple sex, not love or because of obedience or
anything else. He wanted to get off and I was just someone to be
used. That was exactly how I felt as I bobbed my head back and forth
along his hot cock. He was horny, and was squirting out his stuff on
the ground in no time. I felt ashamed as hell when he paid me, and
when I emerged from the alley and looked over at the two boys grinning
back at me, I felt even more ashamed. I'm sure they must have been
talking about how depraved I was to sell myself to strangers like
that. I love my masters, but they can sometimes be very mean and
cruel.
A hairy fat fellow in his thirties was my second trick. He wanted
to fuck my ass, and fortunately for me, his dick was small and slender
and Jarred had done a good job lubricating my asshole. So, for being
the first cock up my ass it was not that traumatic nor painful. I
felt even more ashamed having sex with him. As I stood there bracing
myself against the wall while he pounded my ass and grunted with the
pleasure, I realized just how a whore must feel. I was allowing
others to use my body for their gratification without any regard to my
feelings or needs. I certainly would never envy a whore her life.
As the night wore on, I began to dread the approach of each man.
The looks of disgust by those who walked past, and the look of pity or
total lack of concern by those who had sex with me made me want to end
my existence. I have never felt so ashamed of myself in all my life,
and having the two young boys watching the perverts who picked me up
made me feel even more shameful and used. By making me do this, the
two boys were using me just as much as the men who were using my body
for sex.
To the delight of the boys, I was quite popular. By the time one
a.m. rolled along, I had made 360 dollars, which translates to twelve
customers. Seven wanted blow jobs, two were evidently afraid of Aids
and wanted hand jobs, and three had fucked my ass. I feel very
embarrassed and ashamed writing what we have done this night, and I
told Jarred and Josh that. They laughed and then grinned at each
other and Master Tyler said watching me sell myself was a major turn
on and that he and Josh had jerked each other off twice watching me,
once in the car and once in the alley watching me getting my ass
fucked. That they had snuck into the alley and watched that indignity
made me blush even more, much to their amusement.
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 1998
Master Jarred came by after school yesterday and told me to dress
up in my going in public dress clothes. I changed into a clean pair
of underwear and put on socks and my dress pants and a nice shirt. It
felt very strange after going around in just the special underwear
that I wore around the house. We took the public transit down to a
clinic in the poorer part of town. Master Jarred said that one of the
doctors there was a special friend who they had found out was into
water sports. I think that is very good that doctors practice
physical exercise, especially something as difficult as swimming or
water skiing. When I saw he was at least fifty pounds overweight, I
was surprised considering his interest in sports. They gave me some
aether, which put me to sleep and I did not wake up until late today.
While I had been asleep the doctor had inserted a tube up my penis
called a catheter. It is a very thin tube that fits up the pee tube
to the bladder. The other end is attached to a bag. That can be hung
on a post or something, or can be strapped to your body if you are
going to walk about. When the waste goes from your kidney to your
bladder, instead of stopping at the bladder it keeps on going all the
way through to the bag. They explained that it was used to flush out
the body so that urine did not get stored, and it was usually used
with people who had bad hearts or blood pressure and had a hard time
to pee. I was afraid I was sick or something, but they said they had
some special plans for me. I don't know what that is going to be, but
I know my masters will let me know what I need to know when the time
comes.
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 1998
Billie came by on his way to school and told me to put on my
diaper and plastic pants. He then disconnected the sac at the end of
the catheter and fastened the tube so it would drain into my diaper
instead. He then instructed me to drink four litres of strong tea,
and to be at the Crestwood Elementary School at ten o'clock.
As I drove to the school, I never felt so bloated in all my life,
and by then my diapers were so soaked they hung heavy in my pants when
I walked. I went straight to the boys' washroom as I had been
instructed. Billie had skipped out of his Middle School and was
waiting there for me. Having been in the school the previous year, he
knew a lot of the boys yet. The school had grades from Kindergarten
to grade three, and had six hundred kids. There were two boys' rooms.
The one I was in was for the kindergarten and grade ones. There were
ten stalls, and a row of fifteen urinals. I had barely arrived when
the recess bell went. The boys entered the boys' room in a boisterous
rush. They stopped suddenly and ceased talking when they saw me
standing there. A couple stepped up to the urinals, evidently
uncertain of my presence, but desperate to take a leak.
Billie told them that I was all right, and said that I had
something really cool to show them. That got me really worried
because I could not remember him telling me I had to bring something
with me. There had to be at least twenty boys in the washroom when
Billie called for everyone's attention.
"This dude's name is A.P.," he said. "I told him to come here
because he has something I thought you dudes would find interesting."
He looked at me with a big smile and I was really anxious. I also
felt very bad that I was going to disappoint my master. "Take off
your shoes and your pants, A.P." I reluctantly did as I had been
instructed. Part of me knowing I had to obey my master, but part of
me embarrassed being seen in a diaper by a bunch of little children.
The boys glanced at each other and then at me in wide-eyed wonderment.
A couple glanced at each other and smirked. All of them wrinkled up
their noses when they saw how wet my diaper was. "A.P. here got to
wear diapers since he can't control his bladder," explained Master
Billie. "Pull down your diaper and show them why," he instructed.
I felt even more embarrassed as I pulled down my diaper. For one
thing, they were sodden with piss and the boys could all tell, not
just from the sight but also the smell. The second reason was that I
found it embarrassing showing little boys that age a grownup's penis.
That was embarrassing enough, but mine had this plastic tube sticking
out of it, and with all the tea I had consumed, I was constantly
producing urine. If all that was not reason enough, there was what
they had done at the tattoo parlour. The boys all stared at me in
amazement, their eyes opening even wider.
"Why does he have that thing up his peehole?" asked one of the
braver little boys.
"You know how a baby just pees when he wants to cuz he hasn't
learned how to hold it?" Billie asked and several of the boys nodded.
"Well, A.P. can't control when he pees, like you and me can, so the
doctor put that tube in him. In most men it is connected to a plastic
bag that the guy has to empty every once in a while.
"Ewww," commented several of them.
"A.P. prefers to just have his pee pour directly into his diaper."
"Ewwwwww, that's ever more gross," observed one of the kids.
"Naw, A.P. loves the feel of hot piss soaking his wiener and nuts,
don't you A.P?"
"Yes, I do," I replied. I found it disgusting, but I would never
contradict one of my masters. Also, I had been told that in public I
was not to call the boys Master unless they said it was alright.
"Weird," said one of the boys.
"Hey, wow, look, he's peeing right now."
"Jeez, look at it!"
My urine was running down the tube and all I could do was stand
there and let my hot piss flow through the tube. I tried desperately
to stop it, but that was useless of course. The boys crowded even
closer to watch my pee flow out of the plastic tube in a constant
stream.
"Can't he stop it?"
"No," repeated Billie.
"Look, its running through the tube into his diaper!"
"Holy shit!"
"Ewwww."
"Why is his wiener coloured like that? That because he can't
control his pee or something?"
"No, that got nothing to do with it. He just wanted to make his
dink look pretty," said Billie with a grin and the boys all laughed.
"It looks weird like that,." observed one and a number nodded
their head.
"He's strange," another observed and a lot more nodded their
heads.
I stood there helplessly as the boys all watched my urine flow out
of me and into my diapers. Several stepped closer to have a better
look at my tattooed penis. The bell rang and they all dashed off to
classes, chattering and laughing about what they had just seen.
Billie peeked into the hall to be sure no teachers were around, and
then hurried me over to the older boy's washroom. Because they had so
many students, they had two different recesses. Again, we had no
sooner gotten there then the older student's recess began. Again a
crowd of boys rushed into the washroom, and again they looked at me
and stopped and became quiet until Billie explained that I was not a
teacher and that they could say and do stuff they usually did in the
bathroom and I would not care. Of course the boys did not believe
him.
"So, if I say ol'Beckel is a fuckin' bitch," he won't care I
swore and he won't say nothin' to her?" asked one of the braver
eight-year-olds, looking me right in the eye.
"Do you care if boys swear, A.P.?" asked Billie.
"No, I don't care," I replied, thinking back to when I got very
upset when I heard young boys swear, but I am much wiser now thanks to
my masters. "If adults can swear then we should let kids swear too."
That was what my masters had taught me.
"Shit, is this old fart for real?"
"Oh yeah, he's real," said Billie with a grin.
"So, like why is he wearing a diaper?"
"And why is it soaked?" asked another, holding his nose.
"What are you and the dude doing here anyway, Billie?"
"Got something to show ya."
"Like?"
"Go ahead, A.P."
I pulled down my diaper and again all the boys gaped at me.
"What the shit is that up his dick?"
"It's called a catheter."
"Fuck, it hurt dude?"
"No, it felt uncomfortable at first, but it doesn't now."
"What's that running through it?"
"That pee?"
"Ewww, it's going all over him."
"Ahh, yukkk."
They all crowed around and I again stood there blushing a bright
red and unable to do anything about it as my urine flowed out of my
body and out of the tube
"Why is his thing white and red like that?"
"Cuz he wanted it coloured that way."
"Looks like a candy cane."
"Ha, you want to lick his candy cane, Randy?"
"Yeah, sure, why don't you lick it yourself, Justin."
"Shit, his piss just keeps coming and coming."
"Like the energizer bunny on t.v., he just keeps going and going
and going," said Billie and the boys all laughed at his joke.
"He's been going a lot, look how wet his fucking diaper is!"
"Ewwww, gross."
Most boys wrinkled up their noses and made gagging noises, but I
noticed there were a couple who were not disgusted. From the looks on
their faces and the sudden bulge in their tight jeans, I would say
they found the whole thing not just intriguing, but arousing. Finally
the bell went, and they too had to go back to classes, although they
hung around for a much longer time than the younger children. After
they left, Billie tore several holes in my plastic pants.
"Ok, Arm Pit, ya can go home now. I want ya to walk, and we'll
see you tonight."
"Can I put my pants on?"
"Of course not stupid. Can't ya see you're pants are leaking? Ya
don't want pee all in your nice trousers do ya, ya stupid shit head."
"Sorry, of course not. That was very stupid of me." I felt very
dumb having suggested I wear my pants, and very bad having to be
reprimanded by my master. "I'm sorry," I said, hanging my head.
"That's why ya got me and the other guys to do your thinking for
ya, and to keep ya out of trouble."
"Thank you, I am so glad you are here to take care of me."
"Hey, anytime, dude," Billie said, and he gave me a big smile.
"Now ya go home, ok?"
"Sure."
Again making sure the coast was clear, Billie lead me out of the
building and while he headed back to class, I headed home. I walked
through the back alleys, and if there was someone approaching me, I
took a detour around the block to avoid them. There were several
times housewives came out to dump the garbage unexpectedly, and all I
could do was stare straight ahead even though I knew they were staring
at me. It was most embarrassing walking along in my diaper with my
pee trickling down my legs and I walked as fast as I could.
There were other times when I was seen by guys, mostly older men,
who were out mowing the grass or just laying around in the back yard.
I had to walk past them because to detour would have meant exposure to
even more people. I could not hide my shame as my pee poured into my
soaked diapers and ran through the holes down my legs to my socks. By
the time I got home my socks were soaked too, and my legs were
streaked with pee.
SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 1998
I finally had the catheter removed yesterday. This afternoon my
masters took me to the high school football game. I have not been to
a high school football game for many years, and I was so grateful that
they would take me. There were a few surprises while we where there.
One was two grade twelve players, one seventeen and the other
eighteen, whom I had forgotten having met. They were George and
Joshua, the two bullies that the boys had brought over to my other
place and that had been made to dress up like girls. Another surprise
was to see Josh again. He was a water boy and sort of assistant or
something to the coach. The coach was a young teacher, only four
years into his career. He was twenty-five, tall, very handsome and
athletic, but with a young looking face and complexion that sort of
reminded me of Michael J. Fox.
It was a very exciting game, with the score tied most of the way.
I did notice that the Crestview High team was getting tired and sort
of glassy eyed, but then Josh seemed to call them together for a pep
talk or something, and whatever he told them, it certainly motivated
them because there was a sudden burst of energy and they scored two
touchdowns in a row, which gave them enough of a lead that the other
team never did catch up.
We headed straight home after the game, and to my surprise, the
two bully Jocks and the coach showed up almost as soon as we had
arrived. As they stood there looking rather confused at the door, I
suddenly realized from the looks on their faces that they had been
drugged with the rape drug the boys had once used on me. The boys and
the coach were directed to go into the bathroom, and my masters went
in with them. The football players and coach emerged half an hour
latter totally transformed into three gaudy whores. Their thick
make-up and their tight, flashy clothes made them look like cheap
prostitutes. They were taken to the party room. We had brought up
two extra mattresses from the storage room and covered them with white
sheets earlier in the day.
"Now, listen up," said Jarred. "You all know that you are boys,
and that you like girls and that you think having sex with guys is
disgusting. You also know that even though you feel that way, you
must not let anyone suspect, because if you do, I'm going to fix it so
you will never be able to have sex with a girl." He smiled and took
out his pocket knife. Opening it, he walked over to George and
pointed it at his crotch. "Snip, snip, and no more balls, dude," he
laughed. "And a third snip, and no more sausage. Got it?" George
nodded vigorously as did the other two. "So, when the team arrives,
you make like you are real hot and horny whores, and you be sure you
please them, got it?" The three nodded again. "Okay, go wait in the
guest room, cunts."
The three went into the small bedroom that the boys said would be
for special people who came to visit us, like all the guys who wrote
in about things to do over the past four months. Jay, Tyler, and
Billie went into their bedroom and closed the door.
It was shortly after that that the rest of the team arrived,
fourteen husky, horny athletes and their water boy/assistant manager,
all still in their muddy football kits. They milled about in the
party room, loud and boisterous and full of piss and vinegar after
their win.
"Ok, dude," one of them said to Josh, "where are these hot chicks
you said we'd get if we won?"
"Don't worry, they will be right out," said Josh with a grin as he
glanced over at me and Jarred.
"What's with these two?"
"The old dude is the pimp," Josh said, looking at me, and here to
make sure that you boys all treat his girls right."
"I'll treat one of them right," said a tall, solidly built two
hundred pound hulk as he groped his crotch. The others laughed.
"And the young dude?"
"He's here to learn the ropes," said Josh. "There are three other
young boys here too. They are cool, just ignore them. Now one last
thing. Remember the rule. You can have the girls do whatever you
want, jerk, suck, let you screw their ass, rim ya, anything, but ya
can't take off their g-strings, or screw their pussies, got it?" They
all nodded in unison, and that was when I realized their drinking
water must have been spiked too. "These are the most beautiful girls
you have ever seen in your life, and the hottest, got it?" They all
nodded again, this time more eagerly. "Just like I promised you'd get
if ya won the game," Josh said with a grin.
"Arm Pit, go get the girls," Jarred demanded, and I hurried to
obey.
As the three girls arrived, the boys all hooted and cheered. The
three girls paraded in their padded bras, low v-cut blouses, and short
miniskirts, eager to please the boys, and eager to protect their
manhoods. They really believed Jarred would cut off their genitals,
and I was not so sure that he wouldn't. The boys all hooted and
cheered louder as the girls wiggled their tight asses. George sat down
on the sofa, drawing up his bright red skirt to reveal a pair of very
recently shaved legs and a pair of lacy pink panties, and four of the
boys immediately swarmed over to him. Joshua sat in the recliner and
similarly hiked up his miniskirt, and immediately another four swarmed
over to him. Coach Kryznowski walked over to the mattresses, his wig
of silky long red hair bouncing as he walked in his high heels. He
actually looked quite sexy with his young face and padded bra. The
remaining boys crowded around him.
It was not long before there were three sets of hot action. The
other masters rejoined us to watch the activities, and when nobody was
noticing, to take some pictures. As one of the footballers kissed
George passionately, his muddy nose and forehead smudging George's
carefully applied rouge, a second opened up his blouse and removed his
bra so he could suck on George's tit, and a third ran his hand up
George's thigh and groped his crotch on the outside of his panties.
All three boys were convinced they were making out with the hottest
looking chick of their fantasies.
I tried to imagine what was going on in George's mind. On the one
hand, he knew he was straight, and that what these three boys were
doing was filthy, degrading and immoral. On the other hand, he knew
he had to act like he was really enjoying this. I could see the
dilemma in his eyes, as on the one hand he want to smack the guy
groping his crotch, but on the other he had to squirm and flirt like
he wanted it. Joshua and Coach Kryzanowski had to be feeling the same
way. It must have been hell to be straight and yet act like they
wanted to have sex with the hot athletes groping their bodies.
One by one the footballers began to remove their muddy kit, or
have the girls remove it for them. Muddy jerseys were the first,
followed by their boots, socks, and assorted pads. I looked about in
dismay. When this was all over I was going to be the one who had to
clean up. Despite everything that has happened, I still believe in
keeping an immaculate home. At the same time the football players
were stripping or being stripped, they were collectively disrobing the
girls until the three were only in their g-strings. All three had
smooth, completely hairless bodies. Soon the footballers were
similarly only in their briefs or their jock straps. It was quite a
sight to see fourteen young, muscular athletes groping, what was
evident to everyone except them, two of their teenage schoolmates and
their young coach in makeup and wigs.
"Go ahead, babe," said one footballer, his chest with a youthful
mat of black hair and his chin with a four o'clock shadow, "take off
my jock and sniff it."
George did as he was told. Holding the sweaty jock to his nose,
he inhaled loudly and looked up at the football player gratefully.
"Hot, real hot," the footballer continued, "now come over here and
sniff the real thing." George did as he was told again, kneeling down
before the jock and sniffing his hot, sweaty balls. He was soon
commanded to suck them, and to get his tongue wrapped around the guy's
tool. George did so readily, but I could tell in his eyes how
revolting he was finding this and how he was desperately trying to
break the hold my masters had on him. I could have told him he was
wasting his time and he might just as well enjoy it.
Joshua was on his hands and knees licking the hot dirty feet of a
young dude with huge pecs, while behind him Josh was lubing up his
hard dick and the football bully's hole. As the stud behind him
slipped his finger up what he thought was a stunning girl, I could see
the look of pure shame on Joshua's face, and the apprehension knowing
that the finger was soon going to be followed by his teammate's cock.
Over on the mattress, Coach Kryzanowski was rimming the butt of a
hairy dude, his tongue surprisingly long and his skill surprisingly
good. Another footballer was behind him, spreading apart his cheeks
with one hand and lubing up his stiff cock with the other. This had
to be particularly difficult for the young teacher to be knowingly
licking the butts of his students, and to be getting fucked by them
and being unable to do anything about it. After this day I wondered
how he was going to be able to look at his students and not remember
what they had done to him this day. That was going to be really
humiliating.
Those who were not actively engaged with one of the three whores
stood around and watched and cheered on their teammates. I hurried
from one to the other, replacing empty sodas and juice cans with full
ones, and refilling the dishes with assorted munchies. By then three
of the football players were getting a blow job, and another three
were ramming their cocks in and out of a hot asshole. The three
whores were dutifully, if somewhat reluctantly, servicing their
clients. Soon there were six hot teenage boys grunting and gasping as
they shot their wads into what they thought were hot, sexy chicks.
They had no sooner finished than the next six were up and sticking
their stiff cocks in the holes that the now spent cocks had only
vacated minutes earlier. By the time every boy had gotten his rocks
off, the first set was ready to go at it again.
It was a few hours later that I noticed Josh and Tyler watching
one of the footballers fucking the ass of the coach while another
fucked his mouth. Josh was fiddlling with Master Tyler's cock through
his pants, and Master Tyler was similarly fiddling with Josh's. The
two boys soon lost interest in what was happening in front of them and
were shivering and dancing with their own orgasm, the one dry, the
other filling his underwear.
The party went on well into the night, the footballers having a
week of cum and a week of energy to burn off. Fourteen horny hot boys
and at least forty hot loads shot, the room was smelling like a whore
house with cheap perfume, sexual sweat and spilt cum. I noticed even
the g-strings of the three whores were spotted, and while the football
players thought it was cunt juice from getting turned on by them, we
knew better.
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 26, 1998
Today I visited my mother for the first time since I moved to my
new home. We dressed up in my little boy Disney shirt and shorts and
Jay accompanied me.
"Now listen closely," he said before ringing the doorbell. "You
are three years old and you and me have just come back from the park.
Whatever I say happened, you agree happened. You talk and act just
like a three year old, but you know in your head that you are really
forty- four years old and you remember and feel like a forty-four year
old man, understand?"
"Yes, Master Jay."
When my mother opened the door, Jay stepped up to her and
whispered something in her ears. A strange look came over her, as if
she was confused, and then she smiled at us. Jay must have left a
posthypnotic suggestion with her the last time were had been there.
"Well," she said, smiling at me. "Did you have fun at the park
with Jay?"
"Yes, Mummy."
"I bet you worked up an appetite, didn't you."
"Yes. I'm real hungry."
"Well, go wash up and I'll fix you a little snack. Will you join
us Jay?"
"Sure, Mrs Wallace," Jay said with a wide, innocent grin.
Jay and I went into the washroom and washed our hands as good boys
should and then went into the kitchen. Mummy had made jam and peanut
butter sandwiches for us and had poured us a glass of milk. I sat
there and stuffed my face like any three-year-old as Jay and Mummy
talked.
"I'm afraid little Alexander got into a little mischief at the
park," Jay said with a sorrowful look on his face.
"And what was that?" Mummy asked, and I too looked at Jay
curiously.
"Lift up your shirt and show your mom your chest."
I did, and stared down in horror at the tattoo I'd forgotten I had
there. "I love to suck cock" was written in bright blue letters on my
left chest. My mother looked at it in even greater horror, and then
over at Jay.
"When he went into the bathroom, I didn't know, but he had a pen,
and he wrote that on his chest," said Jay. It's in permanent ink.
"Alexander, you naughty, naughty boy! Where did you ever learn
such words!" Mummy scolded.
I looked helplessly at her and over at Jay. Of course I knew the
real source, but I could not say what really had happened.
"Television these days," said Jay, shaking his head solemnly, "you
never know what little kids will hear anymore."
I'm sure he heard that plenty of times from adults. Adults would
be shocked to know what words he used, and what things this
eleven-year-old boy did.
"Well, you know the punishment if I ever hear you say a dirty
word," said Mummy. I nodded my head. "And that is?" she asked.
"You wash my mouth out with soap."
"And?"
"And spank me."
"You'll excuse me, Jay."
"Of course, Mrs. Wallace."
"But I didn't say the words," I protested, using my three-year-old
logic to try and tell her this was not what it looked like as she took
my hand.
"Writing them is the same thing," she said as she began to lead me
away.
"But it's not my fault," I said, but she was not listening.
Mummy was sixty-eight and I was forty-four. I could easily have
overpowered her, but I was also instructed to act like a
three-year-old, and I had to obey my Master. Besides, she was still
my mother, and I was raised to obey my parents. So, I stood there in
the bathroom while she ran the soap under the tap, and then instructed
me to open my mouth. My mother was not a cruel woman, and the
punishment was quick and brief. Just enough for me to remember the
foul taste of soap the next time I was tempted to use bad words. As
the taste assaulted my tastebuds, I remembered countless times in the
past I had been so punished. My mother believed in the old- fashioned
way of disciplining children.
As I followed her to the living-room, knowing what was next and
approaching it with even more dread than I had as a three-year-old, I
wondered maybe if parents did that today my four masters would be far
different boys. Then again, maybe nothing would be different where
they were concerned. As an after thought, I figured probably nothing
would have prevented them from becoming what they were.
As Mummy sat down and ordered me to come stand beside her, my face
turned a bright red and I moved slowly and reluctantly as any
three-year-old would under the circumstances. She reached over and
undid my belt buckle and pulled down my fly and I watched in
mortification. I could do nothing about this. My mother pulled down
my pants, and then reached up and began to pull down my underwear. I
wanted to die forty-one years ago when she exposed my little boy
thingy, and I wanted to die now as she exposed my manhood. Just like
she had when I was little, she glanced away and closed her eyes, but I
was still embarrassed as hell. I leaned over and lay in her lap,
trying not to place my one-hundred and eighty pounds on the old
woman's lap.
"Alexander!" she shouted, "how did this happen!"
She was looking at my tattooed pucker and the obscenities on my
butt. Jay, who I noticed out of the corner of my eye had been
watching all this, used the opportunity to come running in. He looked
at my butt, and then at me with a wicked grin and a devilish twinkle
in his eyes. "There were some older boys in the washroom," he said,
looking at my mom with wide, innocent, dark brown eyes. He could look
so pure when he wanted to, but I knew the real Jay, and he was
anything but innocent and pure. "He must have had them write that
stuff."
"I wondered," said Mummy. "When I seen what was on his chest I
wondered how a little boy like this knew how to spell such things.
Well," she said, turning her attention back to me, "this will never
happen again."
With that she began to smack my butt, hitting as hard as her
elderly hands could. Even though she was elderly, it still hurt, and
I was a three-year-old. With each smack I winced with the pain, and
the more she smacked me the more it hurt. Besides that was the shame
of having my elderly mother smacking my bare backside, and that being
witnessed by an eleven-year-old. The pain and the shame had the same
result on me as it had forty-one years ago. I began to cry. Mother
finally had me stand up, and again she looked away as I wiped the
tears from my eyes and my runny nose with the back of my hand. As I
began to pull up my underwear and pants, Jay looked at me with a
wicked grin. He leaned over and whispered in my ear.
"Mummy?"
"Yes?" she said, still looking away.
"There's something else you should see."
"What is that?"
"My weewee."
"Alexander, you are getting too old now for your Mummy to." She
had been turning and looking out of the corner of her eye, and when
she saw how my penis had been tattooed, she stopped and stared.
"Oh, Alexander, how could you!"
"It was fun," I said, parroting what Jay had told me to say. "The
more I coloured it the bigger my weewee got, and when it got real big
like a big boy's cock, it felt real good to play with."
"Alexander Wallace! Where did you learn such language and to do
such things!"
Again I looked helplessly at Jay. I had only said what he had
told me to say, and he knew the truth behind the tattoos. Mummy
looked helplessly at him too.
"I'm real sorry," he apologized. "It is my fault. I should have
been babysitting him much better."
"No," Mummy said, "you had no reason to think Alexander would do
something like this. It isn't your fault at all. In fact I think you
should punish him."
"Mam?"
"He looks up to bigger boys. He always has." That was true, and
over the past four months I had learned again how to look up to boys
Jay's age, this time as an adult. "It will mean so much more being
punished by you."
"Well, I don't know," Jay said, pretending to be hesitant,
although I knew he was eager to punish me.
"I insist," Mummy said.
She followed us to the bathroom, where Jay lathered up the bar of
Ivory, but he made it lather much more than my mother ever did. When
he shoved it in my mouth, a lot of suds were left. I worked my mouth
around it and swallowed the spit. I looked down at him and he grinned
widely, thoroughly enjoying my humiliation.
Returning to the living room, I lay over Jay's lap and he smacked
my butt, and he did not hold back. He smacked it as hard as he could,
and it did hurt. With each smack I squirmed in his lap, and my dick
brushed up against his jeans. My butt hurt like hell but my dick was
getting aroused. Jay knew that and smacked me all the harder and
squirmed himself to rub the rough demon. against my sensitive dick.
By the time he was done, my butt was a cherry red and my dick was
jutting out stiffly, much to Jay's amusement and my mother's
embarrassment. I stood there in shame, a forty-four-year-old man
standing before his mother with an erection.
"You go straight into the tub, young man," Mummy ordered. "We
will have to get that writing off."
As I headed to the bathroom a third time, I knew the writing was
not going to come off. It was on permanent. I wondered what was
going to happen. I stripped down as my mother ran the bathwater, and
then I stepped in and began to bathe. At least the water hid my
erection, and with my attention elsewhere, it went down. My mother
began to soap up my hair, like she always did, and then scooped up
water and rinsed my head off. She washed my back and reminded me to
always wash under my arms and to wash my ears. When I was done with
the latter, she bent over and checked them
"Now stand up."
I had forgotten this part. I sat there, wanting to die all over
again. "Alexander, do as I say! I am very mad at you this
afternoon!"
I stood up, my back to my mother. She soaped up her hand, and
then ran it between my butt cheeks. Her soapy fingers ran over my
butthole, and she rubbed it vigorously, trying to remove the tattoo
she thought was in permanent ink. I remembered her telling me as a
little boy how important it was to keep that part of my body
especially clean, and how she had done just as she was doing now.
That was one thing when I was three. Now I was forty-four, and having
my mother touching there had me blushing a bright red. The result of
her administrations and the thoughts of my mother doing this to her
adult son also soon had me erect again.
"I think it will take several washings," said Jay who had been
watching with great delight. "That was very good ink."
"Yes, I think you are right," she said. "Turn around Alexander."
No, I could not. "Alexander Wallace! Now there is nothing there that
your mother has not seen before, and nothing that your babysitter
hasn't either."
I turned slowly, my erection swinging around like a baton. Mummy
soaped up her hand and ran her soapy fingers between my ball sack and
my thighs, and then gently cupped my balls and soaped them.
"Remember, you always soap up your weewee and be sure it is specially
clean."
"Yes Mummy," I replied, wishing this was all over.
"And pull back your skin and be sure to wash good," she said,
running her soapy fingers along my stiff dick, ignoring its condition
but looking uncomfortable as she did so.
"He's got a pretty big weewee," Jay observed, almost splitting
with laughter.
"Oh yes, my Alexander is going to be a big man when he grows up,"
she said proudly. She had to look it at to do what she was doing, but
evidently was embarrassed despite her pride in her boy.
"Ah, would you rather I wash him there?" asked Jay.
"Yes," she said, "Perhaps that is better." She got to her feet.
"You be sure he cleans himself well down there."
"I will," Jay said as she left the room and closed the door behind
us.
"Okay," he said, "wash your weewee, Alexander." He soaped up his
right hand and then handed me the soap. "And I'll give your asshole
another good washing."
As I worked my soapy hands over my stiff cock, Jay reached behind
me and slipped his soapy finger into my hole. I squirmed with the
sensation.
"Squeeze your little dinky real hard and rub it up and down until
I tell you to stop."
My little boy mind did as he told me, while my adult mind knew
exactly what he was having me do. My little boy mind was fascinated
by what was happening. As a three-year-old, the ripples of pleasure
running through my stiff dick were new and as of yet not forbidden, so
I pumped on my stiff cock rapidly and eagerly. Also as a
three-year-old, having someone's fingers up my butt was totally new,
and also very stimulating. My adult mind told me this was wrong that
I should not be openly and eagerly masturbating before an
eleven-year-old boy, and he certainly should not be working his soapy
fingers in and out of my asshole. However, my adult mind also
reminded me that I was pleasing my master. Either way, as a
three-year-old or as a forty-four- year-old, what was happening felt
great.
"This is really fun, isn't Alexander?" he asked.
"Uh-huh," I said, nodding my head and thoroughly enjoying the
growing tension in my stiff cock and the itchy feeling up my butt. As
a three-year-old, I was finding this fascinating. However, far back
in my mind and getting farther and farther back as each day passed, an
adult part of me was disgusted by my physical response. How I could
be revolted by what was happening, and yet be aroused was very
confusing.
Despite the negative feelings, my balls got tighter and tighter,
and my cock hotter and hotter until finally it happened. My semen
spurted out of my cock and into the bathwater. Jay removed his
fingers. "Fuckin' kewel," he grinned.
I rinsed off and dried myself, and we returned to the kitchen. My
mother ordered me to go lay down and take a nap. I didn't want to of
course, and didn't need to, but I did as I was told. As I lay down in
my old room, I remembered this scene years ago. Jay and Mummy talked,
and I strained my ears to hear, just like I had as a boy and others
were talking while I was supposed to nap. In this case, I really was
worried what Jay might be saying, or even doing with my mother, but
there was nothing I could hear, and nothing I could do anyway.
About an hour later Jay came for me, and we left, supposedly Jay
talking me to the store.
"Well, did you have fun visiting your Mummy today?"
"Yes, Master Jay, I had lots of fun. Thank you so much for taking
me," I replied.
Jay grinned up at me with that dark, wicked grin and said nothing.
--
+----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+
| <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> |
| Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>