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From: Andrew Roller <roller666@earthlink.net>
Subject: Sum 6 Summer of Sin part 6 of 20 (NND)
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
SUMMER OF SIN
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Six
With her implements laid out neatly on the small folding tray
table next to me, Helene regarded the urgent wrigglings of my hips. Her
long loose curls hung down past her cheeks and her eyes and brushed
lightly the small frail bones of her shoulders and, lower down, the
fulsome cleavage of her tits. She wore her blouse, buttoned carefully
over her breasts, hiding the full splendor of her tits but too thin keep
her tits from sprouting. They poked up into the material like thorns
hoping to tear it. The shirt covered her arms completely, but left her
belly sexily bare. She touched her navel, leaning over me, stroking the
indentation in her tummy while gazing between my wrenched open
buttcheeks at my puckered anus.
Amusement showed on her lips. “Do you have to pee?” Helene
asked, knowing I did. When I stared up at her balefully and nodded my
head, she only smiled. “Don’t do it on the pillows,” she warned me.
Then she turned and, bare bottomed, clad in only her heels, her
earrings, her long white stockings and her blouse, she sashayed over to
one of the walls enclosing us in this room. She ran her fingers along a
shelf on the wall. She found what she was looking for, amongst the sex
toys and dildos and (incongrously) the Raggedy Ann Doll that were lying
there on that shelf. It was a gag. She took it down and walked over to
me. Carefully, she fitted it into my mouth.
“Ohhhh!” I gasped. I needed to empty my bladder, not have a
gag put in my mouth! But despite my desperate need I was somehow
strangely receptive to the gag. I didn’t fight it. A little, perhaps,
but not enough to keep Helene from fitting it into my mouth and then
tying it with slow, loving hands behind my head. Somehow I knew then
that my whipping would be just as slow, delivered with carefully placed
cracks of the whip that marked my bottom as if it were a painter’s
canvas.
I knew then I’d never make it to the toilet. The thought
stilled my hips, for a moment, until I realized my pee was about to
spritz out and had to put all my willpower into holding it back. Helene
finished tying my gag and caressed my hair. Then she patted my bare
rump and selected a long, whippy cane from the tray.
I froze in my bonds. My breath exhaled anxiously and Johnnie,
feeling it blow across his cock, fought against his bonds with an urgent
need to cum. Helene passed her hand quickly across my bottom, as if to
give it a final, loving feel. Then, with just a touch of reluctance in
her eyes, she brought her cane down hard against my upturned fanny.
“ZOOOOOWHIT!” the cane cracked across my ass. I bucked in my
bonds. The feel of it, after such a soft, caressing pat from Helene’s
hand, was a shock. I emitted a high wail into my gag but the the rubber
that composed it kept my scream from reaching Helene’s ears. My eyes
blinked. I felt my bosoms rise up from the bench and then crush back
down into them as I humped myself against the pillows supporting my
hips.
“Ah, yes. So young and quick to respond,” Helene smiled. She
gave me another lick of the cane. Ah, how it stung! It blazed down
into my fanny, imprinting itself on my cheeks, then springing up again,
like some boy quickly pinching my butt in the schoolyard, and then
running away. I was left to writhe and buck a second time, and to
scream anew into my gag.
My aunt, standing nearby, began inching her way toward Raul,
who lay in the baby pool, looking ridiculous, but with a cockring
clasping his dick and another ring srunched up around his balls, sure to
deliver an electric jolt to his genitals if Helene found him unruly.
She had placed the box on the T.V. table next to me, to keep control of
Raul, even though he was on the other side of the room. The long wire
that ran from the control box to his genitals looked like an evil black
snake, extremely thin and extremely long, running across the floor.
In some restaurants there isn’t room for tables, and so they
set out small, tall platforms that you can put your food on, after you
buy it, in order to eat it standing up. Helene had one of these
platforms in her basement. She noticed my aunt walking toward Raul and
called out to her.
“Rebecca!” Helene said sharply. “Stop. Go to the feeding
station,” Helene said. She nodded to the tall, circular table against
the wall, near the refrigerator. Rebecca, bowing her head submissively,
but giving a small cry of dismay, and wriggling her hips with her urgent
need to cum, walked over to the feeding station. To see her hips as she
walked, swaying and wriggling with her pent-up desire, was truly
breathtaking. I wriggled my own, watching hers, and felt the long, hot
lines of the cane across my bottom and the desperation of my bladder,
and wondered whether this was not some sort of very sexy hell I’d
admitted myself to. My breath, hot and bothered, flowed out my nose and
past the gagged cornes of my mouth and tortured Johnnie’s cock.
When my aunt was standing at the feeding station Helene bent,
gave my cheek a quick kiss, and walked over to her. She bent and showed
us her bottom, opening the small refrigerator sitting on the floor. She
took out a Saran-wrapped plate with a large cookie on it. She also took
out a chilled glass, and a pint of milk. She set everything up on the
high table. Rebecca watched her. Helene opened the container of milk.
She poured it into the glass. Then she lifted the glass to Rebecca’s
lips and forced her to drink from it. My aunt resisted, a little,
moving her hips and swaying, her bare bosoms jiggling, but there was no
way for her, with her hands bound behind her, to keep the milk from
passing inbetween her lips, if Helene wanted her to have it. She might
have shut her mouth, but then it would have spilled down her front and
Helene would have been certain to punish her for that. So my aunt
drank, wide-eyed and resistant, but drinking the milk all the same, her
long thin throat working to take it all down, as Helene tipped the glass
further and further into an angle, filling her mouth.
When my aunt had been made to drink a full glass of milk Helene
fed her the cookie. My aunt took it in slow bites, eating it with, I
thought, a kind of relish, not resisting at all, as if something in her
spirit had broken and she was now a willing victim in Helene’s games.
When the whole cookie had been fed to her Helene poured her another
glass of milk and made her drink it all. My aunt didn’t fight the glass
this time. Instead she drank it down like a greedy child, thirsty after
a full meal.
“Now I’m going to give you something a little less fun to
drink, but just as important,” Helene purred with satisfaction to my
aunt. She bent and opened the refrigerator again. She took out a
bottle and a chilled spoon. My aunt, reading what was on the side of
the bottle, widened her eyes in alarm. There was a white milk-mustache
on her upper lip and she licked it away as she stared at the bottle.
“Yes, it’s castor oil,” Helene smiled to Rebecca. “You’re
going to make a little poop on Raul. And, since you’ve just drank two
glasses of milk, perhaps you’ll need to pee too!”
“Oh, no! That’s awful!” My aunt found the courage to say.
Helene laughed.
“Everything’s awful down here, my child. But it will all end
well, I assure you. Unless you’re disobedient, of course.” With my own
bottom blazing hotly, and my mind-boggling need to pee, I wondered how
I’d offended her to be in such sad shape already. Then a chill ran up
my spine. If this was how I was treated when I hadn’t done anything,
how would Helene treat me if I truly did something naughty?
Helene put a spoonful of castor oil to my aunt’s lips.
Rebecca, wide eyed, gazed down at the spoon, too scared to open her
lips. Helene whispered something and my aunt said “Ohhhh!” in disgust,
upon hearing it. Helene jammed the spoon into her mouth. It was large,
and my aunt looked a bit silly with the big spoon sticking in her mouth,
adding bulges to the sides of her cheeks. Craning my head back behind
me, I watched as my aunt’s throat began to work. She swallowed the
castor oil. When it had all gone down her throat Helene removed the
spoon from her mouth.
“Yeck! That tastes awful!” my aunt replied.
“One more,” Helene said, pouring out another spoonful into the
spoon.
“Oh, no! I could never--” my aunt began to say. Whereupon,
seeing her lips open, Helene popped the second spoonful into her mouth.
My aunt gave a girlish “glug!” as she was forced to swallow it. Helene
took the spoon out of her mouth and set it down gently atop the
refrigerator. She put the cap back on the bottle of castor oil and put
it away inside the frigde.
Helene took my aunt by the arm. She led her over to the baby
pool. My aunt, anticipating already her need to make poop, feeling the
castor oil in her tummy, walked with waggling hips. She resisted a
little the tugs of Helene’s hand, but with her hands bound behind her,
and ankle straps on her legs, and wearing high heels but otherwise nude,
she was hardly in a position to do more than act awkward and childish.
And with her tummy now full of castor oil, there was little hope for her
to be free. Even if Helene had unbound her hands, and restored her
clothes, what would my aunt have done? We were quite a ways from home.
There was no way she could do anything now, with the castor oil doing
its work inside her. Soon, she would poop, and when the need for it
came she would have no way to keep her poop inside her. She was, now,
truly imprisoned here, unless she wanted to wind up pooping out in the
street.
Helene had Rebecca step into the baby pool. Gazing down at the
hard-bodied, buff older man lying beneath her, my aunt at once tried
impulsively to sit on his upstanding dick.
“No, no, dear Rebecca,” Helene smiled. “You could do that
anywhere, could you not? You came to see me. We do things a little
differently here.” Helene turned Rebecca around, so that she was
standing with her jutting round bottom cheeks, high and childish, for
she was only 19, above the 40-year-old man’s face. Despite being a
gentleman, and rather indisposed, with his cock fitted tight into an
enclasping ring at its base, he had a rough face. It showed a shadow of
hair. I knew, just by looking at it when he’d arrived, that if I’d
kissed him I would have smelt a strong after-shave smell coming off his
swarthy cheeks. At the moment I could not see him now, since he was
down in the pool, but I could see his hairy legs sticking up out of the
pool and resting over it’s edge. Just seeing those big hairy legs of
his made me remember the sight of his face. Worse, sticking up all by
itself, jutting up above the rim of the pool, I could see the stem of
his cock. It was big and knobby. A jewel of pre-cum glistened at its
tip, visible even to me as I lay over my pillows on the other side of
the room. It was strange, looking at it, and having Johnnie’s urgently
stemming cock at the same time hard and stiff just inches away from my
head.
Oh, what had Rebecca and I gotten ourselves into? I had always
fancied myself a good girl. I hadn’t even ‘done it’ until I’d come to
visit Rebecca for the summer. Now I was lying belly-down, bottom-up,
over pillows, tied hard to a bench, and with two wicked cocks on view,
both men urgently working their hips with their need to spend!
“Sit,” Helene told my aunt. Rebecca tossed back her long hair,
as if to show some independence from Helene’s command. Helene gave a
quick pat upon my aunt’s bare bottom, and I remembered again the sting
of the cane upon my own. My aunt sat down. She sat directly on Raul’s
face. He gave a groan as her lovely big bottomed ass, so shapely and
innocent, for she was half his age, settled on his nose. I heard Raul
inhale. Then, sighing with pleasure, he exhaled, and my aunt squeaked
as she felt his breath rush out over her naked cunny. Then my aunt
uttered a harsh gasp as Raul, eager as a schoolboy, stuck his raw tongue
up into her sex.
“Noooo!” my aunt cried. Yet as she said it she tossed her head
back. Her no became a throaty scream as, at last, she was able to find
pleasure on the manly seeking of Raul’s big, muscled tongue. She
wriggled her hips. Raul groaned as my 19-year-old aunt ground her bare
bottom down upon his face. Imagine the perversity of his delight, as he
realized, tonguing her, that when her need to poop came, she would have
no choice but to do it right in his face!
My aunt’s head was pushed forward. Helene did it, pressing her
hand to the back of my aunt’s lovely head. My aunt’s long brown tresses
spilled forward, shading her big, wobbly breasts as she was made to bend
her back and lean down toward Raul’s stomach. At first Rebecca
resisted. Then, seeing she was being made to lean down and grab at
Raul’s cock with her mouth, she accepted. Raul gave a terrible,
impassioned groan as Rebecca’s mouth made contact with his prick. It
sounded like a beast caught between the pleasure of an act and raw
fear. For Raul knew that the minute he spent, his time in the dungeon
would be through. I imagined him fighting hard now, working his hips
against his innate desire, clenching his bare bottomcheeks, straining to
keep the seed of his desire within his balls. Small licking sounds
reached my ears as my aunt submissively sucked on his cock. I wondered
if, should he come now, Raul would have to lie in the pool until my aunt
pooped on him. Yes, I decided. Even if he should spend immediately,
Helene wouldn’t let him rise until that wicked deed had been done.
Helene watched the couple at her feet. She listened with
bright eyes to their groans and their sighs. She put a hand between her
legs and frigged her slit as she watched them. She gave a small cry of
her own, leaning her head back and enjoying a trembling that ran up her
knees, clad in her white stockings, to the very juncture of her thighs,
bare and wet and receptive, impaled now on her searching finger. When
she had given herself this small pleasure, Helene withdrew her finger.
It was wet and she bent down and ran it through my aunt’s bent head,
drying it in her hair. Then, with a quick laugh, Helene left the
amorous couple and came walking over to me. At once she picked up the
cane.
“No! Helene!!!” I tried crying over my gag. It was, suddenly,
as if she never had left me. Without so much as a loving glance at my
face, Helene gave me a hard crack across my bottom.
“Whooooo!” I shouted inside my gag. Two more strokes followed,
and suddenly my bladder burst. I felt the pillows wetten under me. I
wriggled my hips and tried to escape, struggling to crawl forward off
the pillows. It was impossible. I was tied fast to the bench and
couldn’t budge an inch. With a sense of horror, staring wide-eyed first
at Johnnie and then at Helene, I released my pee onto the pillows.
“Naughty! Naughty! Naughty!” Helene cried. She whacked my
exposed bottom hard with her cane. Each stroke of the awful implement
printed pain-searing lines on my ass. I shrieked. My breath snorted
out of my nostrils and attacked Johnnie’s stiffened, engorged cock. He
groaned. He begged me to stop my screaming. Each breath-jolting stroke
of the cane on my bottom was making me breathe gaspingly across him.
With his cock covered in Irish Cream, he felt newly enflamed each time
the air from my lungs passed around his penis.
“Yes,” Helene said, satisfied with our suffering, as tears
sprang to my eyes and Johnnie bellowed that he could take absolutely no
more. “Would you like me to wipe off the cream, Johnnie?” Helene asked
sympathetically.
“Please!” Johnnie begged. “My cock feels like it’s on fire!”
“A flaming penis,” Helene laughed. “Let me get a towel, dear,
and wipe it for you,” Helene said. Cringing and crying, I looked up at
her as she passed to the shelf on the wall. I watched the lascivious
sway of her hips. She put a finger down between her legs again, and
gently frigged herself. She was having a wonderful time, I saw, though
it depended on all of us suffering. She picked up a small towel. It
looked warm and fuzzy. She unfolded it. It was a hand-towel, slightly
bigger than a washcloth. She pranced over to Johnnie and with fire in
her eyes, put a towel-covered hand to his penis.
“Urgh!” Johnnie groaned. The little towel was made to pass
coaxingly around the shaft of his cock. Helene said nothing, worked
diligently, but I could see by the gleam in her eyes that she hardly
felt she was doing Johnnie a favor. He had been told not to cum. Now,
with the soft loving stroking of the towel, he went from the agony of
the Irish Cream to the equal agony of having such a wonderful soft thing
as this towel applied to his penis.
“Not-- not so--” Johnnie begged.
“What, darling?” Helene asked with a voice that dripped with
sympathy. “Is something wrong? You asked me to wipe off the cream,
didn’t you?”
“Yes, but--” Johnnie groaned. His dick was completely covered
with the hot cream and Helene had to work hard, with stiff but very
loving fingers, to wipe it off him. She might have tried wetting the
towel first, but instead she used it upon him just as it was. This
meant she had to press harder with her fingers to remove the cream. She
seemed not to mind the extra effort. She put her tongue into the corner
of her mouth and worked her hands. Her breasts, naked and free, hung
heavily underneath her. They swayed in time to the movements of her
hands. Her lovely curled hair hung down over her face. Wisps of it
passed dangerously close to Johnnie’s engorged cock. Now and then a
wisp of her hair tickled the tip of his penis.
“No! Stop!” Johnnie yelled suddenly. I gaped at his member.
I was working my hips with the pain of the cane that had struck me.
Yet, as doomed as I already was, with a red bottom and wet pee-stained
pillows under me, I felt a sudden sinking in the pit of my stomach, as
if worse was about to cum.
And it did! Suddenly, Johnnie’s penis began spontaneously
spurting. At first I thought it was pre-cum, but then, as great gobs of
white stuff began erupting from his pee hole, I realized I was watching
him orgasm. I shrieked in my gag. His cum spurted into my face and my
hair. Helene laughed. She kept rubbing Johnnie’s big stiff organ. She
watched with delight as he splattered my face with his jism. When at
last he was done, Helene dropped the hand towel to the floor. She put
her fingers into an O and gave Johnnie’s cockhead a flick, as if to say,
flicking him with her fingers, that he was somehow inadequate, despite
having a huge member that had just erupted a Niagara of sperm upon me.
“Well, boys will be boys, I suppose,” Helene said
disdainfully. She rose. She turned and picked up the box that
connected by a wire to Raul’s cock. “Parting is such sweet sorrow,”
Helene said. She turned a knob on the side of the box. Then she
depressed the bottom on top of it.
“Yeeeeeowwwwch!” Raul, across the room, hollared.
“Oh!” my aunt cried. She was sucking his dick and perhaps she
felt some of the electricity that now ran through his member, coming
from the box.
Helene took her finger off the button. “I think I gave this a
little too much juice,” she said, half to herself, half in apology to
Raul, who probably couldn’t hear her, for he was still groaning, and had
my aunt’s lovely taut thighs gripping his head.
“Oh, I have to go to the bathroom!” My aunt, still sucking at
Raul’s cock, suddenly announced. “Helene!” she cried urgently. I
watched as her back and hips strained. Her bottom wasn’t quite visible
to me, being mostly below the rim of the pool, but I imagined it
tightening. She could feel the castor oil down in her bowels now, and
it was eager to make her poop.
“Yeeeeugh!” Raul yelled. Helene had depressed the box’s button
again.
“Helene! I must go!” my aunt yelled urgently.
“You must go and he must cum,” my aunt laughed. She pressed
the button on her wicked little box again.
Suddenly, both parties in the 69’ed couple shrieked. My aunt,
feeling her bowels loosen uncontrollably, made a poop upon Raul’s face.
She later admitted to me that, feeling her poop come, the wetness of it
passing out from the cheeks of her bottom and onto the face of a man old
enough to be her father, she suddenly felt an equal need to pee. And
she did, the pee running out of her cuntlips and down into Raul’s
gasping mouth. At the same time, hunched over him, she felt his cock
jet an upwelling of sperm into her mouth.
“Oh, how awful and yet how lovely it was,” my aunt confided to
me afterward, when we were at last alone together again. “I was peeing
on him, and he was cumming up into my mouth! I felt sorry for him, for
I know he could have held on longer, if Helene had not delivered those
cock-jolting spasms of electricity to his penis. But it was, I suppose,
necessary, if she was to treat me in the way that she did, giving me an
experience even my most girlishly depraved thoughts could never have
devised. Would never have devised,” she added. “For it is too wicked,
except to think of it in retrospect, when I’ve had the experience and
must accept that it has happened to me.” She gave me a sly smile.
“There are benefits to being a prisoner, you see,” she told me. “Some
girls get drunk, to assauge their guilt, and I’ve done that too. But to
put yourself, not being drunk, in someone’s hands... someone who knows
how to take control of you, and yet protects you, and cares for you...”
My aunt’s words ended in a sigh and she smiled happily at me, and said
nothing, the glow in her eyes telling me all.
That was much later, however, that we shared those inner
reflections. At the moment I was still bound belly-down over pillows to
a hard bench. Try as I might, I couldn’t move, except to wriggle my
bottom, and lift my head a little, and wriggle my nose and shed a tear.
Through a gasping mouth I begged Johnnie to rescue me. He gazed down at
me, his cock level with my face, his big frame bound implacably to the
tilt-board. I saw to my horror that there was a sense of satisfaction
in my eyes. He’d spouted off; both men had, now. I heard Raul groan
contentedly from the baby pool. I couldn’t see Raul’s face (my aunt was
still sitting on it) but I could stare up at Johnnie’s, and he seemed
not to have a care in the world now. He’d been a good boy, he knew,
struggling to the last to retain his sperm, and Helene would not be
displeased with his performance. In fact, I saw, as she turned toward
him, that she had need of him, in order to see that Raul was properly
dismissed. Despite being 40 Raul was no slouch in the muscles
department. He could easily overpower all us girls, if he wished, and
even rape us too, I had no doubt. Johnnie had to be freed before Raul
got up, so that Helene could use Johnnie to ensure that Raul did as she
bid him.
Quickly, cooing with love for Johnnie and complimenting him,
Helene undid him from the board. Johnnie grinned, flexed his arms, and
finally stood.
“See that Raul leaves when I tell him to,” Helene whispered to
Johnnie, and rose up on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss on the
cheek. She looked at his penis. She smiled. It had shrunk after
expending its sperm, yet was still somewhat turgid. In an act of love,
uncalled for by the moment but inspired by seeing him thus, she darted
to a shelf on the wall. She returned with a stick of cherry flavored
Natural Ice lip balm. She took hold of Johnnie’s organ. She pulled on
it, stretching it out, her fingers imparting a new rigidity to it just
by touching it. When she had his cock well-presented she flicked the
cap off the Natural Ice, screwed it up fromt the base to expose it, and
began rubbing it all over his dick. She even put some across his pee
hole, causing Johnnie to wince, for he knew the “ice” would impart a
warm glow to his cock in just a few moments.
“Don’t,” Johnnie begged, when he saw the ice passed over his
pee hole. “It will burn,” he said.
“I know,” Helene whispered. She grinned. She covered every
inch of his long, meaty shaft, burnishing his penis with the ice as if
it were a big bronze phallus on some statue in a temple. Johnnie winced
as he felt the ice begin to take effect. I watched as his balls, so
recently emptied, drew up instinctively between his thighs. Did they
hope to cool his penis by discharging a new round of sperm through his
pee hole? Or were they simply reacting to Johnnie’s fear? Even though
he was being handled by Helene, there was still a slight fear, for he
was being manipulated for the purpose of pain.
When she had finished, Helene dropped the Natural Ice to the
floor. Then she turned and, swinging her bottom salaciously, she walked
over to where my aunt still savored the feel of Raul’s swarthy face upon
her soft cunt and bottom. She bent down and undid my aunt’s handcuffed
hands. Then she walked over to a shelf against the wall. There were
towels there, on the shelf, and Helene pulled down two from the pile and
tossed them to Rebecca. My aunt caught neither. One hit Raul on his
dwindling cock. The other landed on his belly. Rebecca sighed. She
brushed back her hair from her face. She looked rather like an Olympic
gymnast who’d just completed a competition as she picked up the towel
off Raul’s belly.
“Use them to wipe,” Helene told her. “Then it is time for you
to go, Raul. For you have cum.”
Raul groaned. Yet Rebecca, seeing he was no longer the man
he’d been five minutes before, reluctantly got up off his face. She
blushed as she lifted her bottom off Raul’s nose, she told me later. It
had been wedged up in her hiney-hole. Raul had tried to stanch the
discharge of her poop, by plugging her bottom with his nose. It hadn’t
worked. He’d gotten shit-faced all the same.
With sheepish smiles, Rebecca and Raul stood up. Their limbs
were awkward. Rebecca stood unsteadily. Raul had to reach out a hand
to keep her from falling, himself looking wobbly-kneed as he passed a
towel over his face and his chest and wiped off her runny shit. Rebecca
reached back behind herself and cleaned her ass. It was a messy job.
Helene took a bottle of champagne from the refrigerator. She
uncorked it. She pointed its snout, spouting with bubbled liquid, at
Rebecca’s hiney. My aunt, still standing in the baby pool, screamed as
the champagne squirted onto her bottom. Raul turned and presented his
cock and face to Helene and she sprayed him in both places. Then she
tossed a new towel to each of them. They wiped themselves some more.
“That’s better,” Helene said. She put the champagne bottle to
her lips and drank from it. Then she put her thumb over its mouth and
shook it. When it was well-shaken she aimed the neck of the bottle at
her cunt and removed her thumb and let the champagne spurt up onto her
dell. She shrieked, loving the feel of the cool, wet liquor as it
spumed sperm-like up within her cunt.
“How do I get this cock ring off me if he’s got the key up his
ass?” Raul asked, looking down at himself.
“Oh, I completely forgot,” Helene blushed. She looked at
Johnnie. An evil light glowed in her eyes. “I’m afraid, Raul,” she
said, putting a finger to her champagne-wettened cunt, “that if you want
to get free of that cock and ball apparatus you’ll have to enemize
Johnnie to get that egg back out of him.”
Johnnie looked appaled. His dick was burning with mineral ice,
causing him to flex his hips in a backward and forward motion. He
stepped away from the board where he’d been bound. I saw that his gait
was awkward. It thrilled me to think of his rectum as erotic storage
space, as I watched from my bent-over position. I rubbed my cunny
against the pee-stained pillows underneath me and wished there was
sufficient contact between them and my dell for me to cum upon them.
But there wasn’t. My eyes gazed with awe at Johnnie’s behind. It was
so small! Yet jammed up inside those perfect male cheeks was a big egg
with a key in it. A key that Raul needed if he was to get his cock out
of the electric ring that coiled around it.
“This is ridiculous,” Raul said. He wiped the towel he was
holding across his face again, removing the last traces of my aunt’s
poop. She glanced at Helene. I saw loving affection in her eyes, even
though she was still busy trying to get all the shit off her bottom by
rubbing it with a towel. Helene grinned at my aunt. I swooned, thiking
of Raul forcing Johnnie to bend down and show him his ass, so Raul could
go digging in it. Imagine that! Two grown men, neither one the least
bit homosexual, yet one having to offer his ass to the other, so it
could be douched, with enema fluid, like the cunt of a woman, and made
to produce an egg!
“Let us make an event of it,” Helene, perhaps remembering her
original plan, announced. (She was ever wishing to control us. Her own
desire to cum, though, confused her thoughts sometimes.)
“An event?” Johnnie asked. I watched as his bottomcheeks
tightened.
“What do you mean, an event?” Raul asked her.
“Why, it’s time you two shared some intimacies,” Helene
laughed. “Yes, gentlemen! Imagine if you never did, hmmm? Perhaps you
are both missing out on something you’d like, if only you tried it.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Raul gasped.
“You’re not gay, I know, dear,” Helene said to Raul, as if to
assure him. “And neither are you, Johnnie. But that doesn’t mean you
both can’t play at being gay. Especially since you’ve no choice,
anyway.” She smiled. “Both of you should be glad we girls are here.
Three girls, eager to watch. Just remember that, and you two shouldn’t
have any problem. Cum now. Do as I say and don’t disappont me and
Rebecca here. Just look at how delighted her eyes are. Even little
Chloe is mesmerized by the thought of you two getting it on!” She
glanced over at me. They all did.
“God, this is ridiculous,” Raul sighed.
“Try living with her,” Johnnie said.
30
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