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Subject: Fevered Fall part 21 of 22 (NND)
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_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
FEVERED FALL
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
Chapter Twenty-One
There is no more wonderful sight in this world than a stallion,
young and powerful, surging to a gallop as he demonstrates his prowess
on the racetrack.
None, that is, except for a man. Imagine how full of desire I
felt as the men were paraded one by one in the ballroom. I thought to
stay in the holding room with them, but Rebecca, summoned to sit on the
lap of the Prince, asked that I be brought out. I knelt at the foot of
Prince Havash’s throne. He wore boots. I was given a cloth by a guard
and told to kiss and wipe the Prince’s boots. But they were already
well polished and when I failed to comply, just holding the polishing
rag in my hand, the Prince ordered the guard to go fetch the first of
the men and not to molest me.
The leather-clad woman appeared, beckoned by the guard. From
the holding room she drew a man. He was the first she had teased. He
had a mesmerized look on his face, for She led him by his penis, her
fingers encircling his stiffness. In her other hand she no longer held
shears but, rather, a riding crop. I trembled when I saw it.
Instinctively I grabbed one of the Prince’s legs. I hugged it, feeling
his leather boot against my bare skin. He did not snap at me. Perhaps
my fear amused me. I, who had suffered so much at his hands, was now
seeking solace from him! It was confusing being a slave, one had few
saviors, and many tormentors.
“Ooohs” and “Aaaahs” arose from the assembled women as the
first of the men was displayed to their eyes. They had greeted him
earlier in clothes, dressed as they were. They had watched at a
distance as he was stripped and I washed his balls. Now, however, he
was threaded between them, like a dog being taken for a walk amidst
guests in a crowded park. The leather-clad woman lead him. Whenever a
woman requested it, Sabrina, the woman in black leather, halted the
man. He was forced to stand still as his dick was admired. Soft hands
touched his penis. Fingernails intruded one by one into his pee hole.
Palms reached beyond the ring of leather at the base of his dick and
squeezed his balls. Even men could get into the act. Any man who
requested to feel the slave was permitted. It was not considered gay;
the male slaves had been selected because of their fine bodies,
particularly that part of themselves sticking out from between their
legs. It was natural for a man to wish to compare notes.
The men did feel; some roughly, some gently. Many liberties
were permitted the guests, but the slave had to endure all in silence.
I watched, still hugging the Prince’s boot. I yearned to be like the
men and show off, yet it was a secret yearning, and I was simultaneously
glad that I was just a girl, with only my buzzing clitty between my
legs, and sitting secure at the Prince’s feet. No one could touch me,
here, by the Prince’s throne, unless he gave them permission.
When he had been fully scrutinized, when his capacity to serve
had been proven by his ability to hold himself forth, the man was
released. Sabrina let go of his cock. The other guests’ hands
retreated. But a further humiliation awaited him. Though no longer
being touched, the man was given a drink and invited to converse with
the guests. He blushed. He had already been told what he would have to
do, as he waited in the holding room. A chamber pot was brought into
the ballroom, by the guards, and set on the floor. As the man
conversed, he drank, and as soon as he finished his drink the guests
gave him another. All the while they spoke to him in the most pleasing
tones, as if he were clothed, as if his big penis weren’t sticking out
all naked and raw. It might have been bearable if the drinks the man
was given were alcoholic. But they weren’t. Alcohol might allay his
embarrassment. So, while the guests sipped fine cocktails, enjoying the
alcoholic buzz of their drinks, the man was given fancy, colored drinks,
that amounted to little more than water. He was urged to drink one
after another, and as he did, they talked with him. The men who had so
freely fondled his cock spoke to him of sports. The women discussed the
weather, or other things, equally banal, equally pointless, save for the
very pointed image of his poor penis displayed before all their eyes.
When he could endure no more, the man asked to relieve himself.
“What? You have to go to the bathroom?” a man asked merrily.
“Yes. If I may,” the male slave replied, another drink urged
into his hands, his eyes wandering toward the solace that awaited him at
the chamber pot.
“I say! This young fellow says he has to pee!” the man
shouted. A titter of laugher went up among the ladies. One of the male
guests saw fit to pass around cigars, which he had been keeping in his
coat pocket. A lighter was shared, the cigars were lit. All the while,
the male slave stood with his cock exposed, twitching with its need.
“He must spend and pee, I’ll bet,” a lady said, and requested a
man to allow her to puff upon his cigar. He did, she savored it,
rolling it on her tongue as he held it to her lips.
“Prince Havash, shall we let this young man urinate?” a male
guest asked the Prince.
“If he cannot hold himself, I suppose we must,” Prince Havash
replied. He yawned. He was growing bored with the whole affair, I
guessed.
“Pee, then,” the male guest commanded the slave. “But do not
let your sperm out.”
“Thank God!” the slave answered. Immediately he went over to
the chamber pot. The guests followed, and they all stood around
admiring him as he pissed with his admirable cock into the waiting bowl.
I watched each man displayed in turn. My cunny hummed with
delight at the spectacle. Surreptitiously I touched myself, but I
feared getting caught and could only brush, very briefly, the special
place between my legs. At last Robin came out. The guests loved him
for his youthfulness. I felt jealous, watching them touch him. When he
peed, I rubbed myself eagerly, imagining his strong flow to be flooding
me. I gasped. Sabrina heard, somehow, and turned and looked at me.
Quickly I drew my hand away from myself, blushing.
“Be good, little one,” Prince Havash admonished, sitting high
above me on his throne.
“Yes, sire,” I answered. My voice was meek. Rebecca darted
one of her bare feet forward and kicked me, lightly, along the side of
my face. I looked up at her and she frowned at me, silently. I rubbed
my cheek. I didn’t have to ask why she’d kicked me. I knew. She was
as worried as I that I might get into trouble.
The contest ended with Robin being awarded the blue ribbon. I
was shocked. Other men were bigger, but his youthful charm had, I
guessed, won them over. He was called forth from the holding room. We
all clapped. Even I clapped. Robin grinned. He seemed quite proud of
himself, and his penis. A blue sash was put over his head by two of the
ladies. He wore it across his chest. Upon it was pinned a blue
ribbon.
“Now you must prove your penis’s worth, and not just show it
off,” Prince Havash ordered. At once the women, up until now models of
decorum, began undressing. The men disrobed too. Robin stood in the
middle of all of them, his blue-ribboned sash draped over his chest, his
penis sticking out like a prong on a hatrack. When everyone was naked
someone produced a bottle of baby oil. Two women knelt in front of
Robin and carefully undid the collar-like leather ring around the base
of his dick. Then, hands began touching Robin everywhere. The guests
no longer confined their explorations to his penis, but felt his
buttocks, his chest, his arms, even his finely chiseled face. Soon
afterward the bottle of baby oil was pointed at him and squirted until
it was completely empty, and Robin was dripping. Hands sluiced in the
oil, smoothing it all over him so that no part of his body, not even the
crack of his ass, was left uncoated by the oil. Robin groaned. He had
endured so much, yet now, being felt everywhere, knowing that wild sex
was just around the corner, it took all his effort and more to keep from
losing himself amidst the plethora of hands that were sleekly admiring
him.
When Robin was as wet as if he’d fallen in a lake, he was
ordered to lie down. He did so, right on the floor, and his cock stuck
up like a flag from the flatness of his belly. A woman, her clothes
discarded, sat on his face. Two other women knelt on either side of his
waist. Everyone leaned in, but a gap was left in the group, so that
Prince Havash might see, and me too. As I watched, my mouth open, my
tits trembling and my hands wedged between my legs, the two women
kneeling over Robin’s groin began stroking his erection. Now, for the
first time of the evening, they asked him to cum. In fact, they ordered
him. Still, Robin was so well-trained by now, trained to resist, that
he held himself back.
“No, you do not understand, my boy,” a man said, leaning over
Robin. “You are a slave. You are not merely to abstain from losing
your sperm. You ARE to lose it, whenever and however ordered. It does
not belong to you. If told to hang on to it, you must of course keep it
inside you. But if told to shoot it, you must do so with the same
obedience that you earlier showed by not spurting.”
“Ah! I cannot!” Robin gasped. His voice was partly muffled by
the woman sitting on his face. He jerked his loins upward, once, yet
the ministrations of the women’s hands still did not bring forth his
seed.
“Then whip him!” the man ordered. Did I sense a secret delight
in the man’s voice? At once, the women got up from Robin. Even the
woman sitting on his face rose up, leaving him lying there on the floor,
gasping.
I watched with fearful eyes as guards came into the room. They
dragged Robin to his feet and marched him over to a trestle that, even
now, was being carried into the room by several other guards. Robin was
put against the trestle. It had two parts; the standard saw horse part,
plus an upper part, a wooden frame. Robin would be bound standing up,
and leaning forward. He was. They had no consideration for his dick
which, still erect, protruded over the leather seat of the trestle.
Robin’s legs were spread and his ankles were bound to the legs of the
trestle. I saw, between his thighs, his balls resting hard against the
trestle’s seat. He looked like he had a big water balloon wedged
between his legs. Robin’s arms were uplifted and chained to the upper
part of the wooden frame, the part that leaned back away from the
trestle, drawing Robin with it, and exposing his back and buttocks.
Robin looked frantically over his shoulder. His back was strong. He
yanked at the chains that held his wrists to the upright whipping frame,
but the neither the chains nor the frame itself budged. He flexed his
bare buns. Sabrina, still carrying her riding crop, was given the honor
of punishing Robin. She sauntered forward, eying the boy’s behind as I
clapped my hands over my eyes and refused to look.
“Then we are agreed?” I heard above me. There was no answer
spoken, but instead I heard a kiss, wetly applied. The next thing I
heard was: “Ah, she dares not look, she loves him so.” It was spoken
by a woman, out in the crowd, but the Prince heard it and must have
leaned forward, regarding his boots, and me beside them, crouched low,
rabbit-like. One of my arms was still hooked around his leg, feeling
the slick leather of his boot, as I pressed my hands hard to my eyes and
wished I had two more hands to put over my ears. And one for my mouth,
so I could scream unabated, and not make myself appear girlish and
foolish.
Soft feet dropped to the floor beside me. I was surprised to
hear them; I wedged apart two of my fingers and peeked out. It was my
aunt, standing before the Prince. She had slid down off her lap.
Distractedly her fingers toyed in the bush of her pubis. I sensed that
she yearned to plunge her fingers between her legs, and rub her sex
freely, but that it was not permitted.
“Stand up, Chloe,” my aunt said in a soft voice. There was an
odd air of command to it. I opened my wedged-apart fingers wider, and
looked up through them at her. She stood over me naked, her tits with
erotically sprouted nipples, her breath coming in short, desire-laden
gasps. “Chloe!” she said more strongly, her voice high pitched, almost
frantic. Her fingers dipped lower upon the sweet mound of her bush.
She reached down. Her breasts bobbled before my eyes and she grabbed
one of my arms. She yanked me to my feet with a strength and a
determination I had not known her to possess before.
I gazed at the Prince. He smiled at me, but his eyes gleamed
wickedly, like those of a wolf eyeing prey. The next thing I knew Robin
had been untied, and was standing near me, and Jim Rutland had been
brought forth from the holding room.
The Prince turned his gaze to Jim, who was the oldest of the
four of us standing in our bare skins before him. I saw that Jim’s
obscene leather cock collar had been removed. Jim’s face looked
haggard. He gazed at the Prince with his usual boldness but I sensed he
was overwhelmed by something. His penis looked marvelously erect, as
did Robin’s. It was coated from its head to its base with vaseline. It
gleamed like a newly polished lance. Robin was covered completely with
vaseline, as if perhaps he needed to slip his hole body through
something tight. My cunny yearned, gazing at him. I would splay myself
for him, impossibly wide, and my whole being would be filled not just
with his cock, but with every fiber of his muscled body.
“Sire,” Jim Rutland said. His voice had a kind of gasping
quality to it, as if he were having trouble breathing. His chest heaved
as he spoke. His penis, enflamed as I’d never seen it before, throbbing
mightily, looked at the brink of spending.
“Yes?” Prince Havash asked. His voice was nonchalant. He had
a drink resting on the arm of his throne and he lifted it to his mouth
and sipped it. His eyes fell to Jim’s penis.
“I am-- I mean, I was-- in the holding room. We were being
serviced. I was about to...” Jim said. His voice broke off. I needed
no help in knowing what he was saying. He had been on the brink of
release, when the Prince had called him forth.
“How is your bottom?” the Prince asked. “Turn around. Let me
see?”
Jim’s eyes widened. He turned and showed the Prince his
perfect, compact cheeks. There was a light fuzz of hair on them and,
hanging between his thighs, his balls looked heavy and tight. A red
blush still remained on Jim’s ass where Mrs. Hatami, adding to his
earlier punishments, had spanked him with the belt.
“Sire, my... bottom is all right,” Jim stammered. He squeezed
his ass cheeks and threw both his hands forward and grabbed his dick, as
if he were about to urinate. “It’s my cock that’s dying!”
“Take your hands away!” the Prince ordered. Jim’s arms
slackened. His hands fell from his cock. He turned, again faced us,
and thrust himself quite openly at the Prince. How odd it looked, one
man presenting his cock to another, literally stabbing the air with it,
as if begging to fuck him! I thought the Prince would be insulted, but
he only stared at Jim, and sipped his drink. At last the Prince put his
drink back down on the arm of his chair, and said:
“Mr. Rutland. May I call you Jim? My worthless brother warned
you that the time would come when you wished you had no penis at all.
That time is now. I am going to give you something more torturous than
being a slave. I am going to give you your freedom.”
I gasped. Jim did too, but he continued to strain his hips
forward, as if, in addition to giving him his freedom, the Prince might
also jerk him off.
The Prince lifted a finger. “Not your complete freedom,
however. I am going to provide you, Rebecca, little Chloe here, and
Robin with a private cabin. It is located many miles from here, but it
is equipped with the latest, state of the art video equipment.
Everything you do there will be filmed. However, you will be free to do
as you wish. If, that is, you can reach your destination without
spending. You, and Robin also, must keep your sperm in your balls until
you arrive. Otherwise, you will be given over to my guards, who are
dying to have you.” The Prince looked at Robin. “Both of you,” he
said.
“Oh, God!” Robin cried. “Put me back on the rack! I don’t
care! I can’t keep my sperm in my balls anymore!” He grabbed at his
dick. He thrust his hips forward. Instinctively I darted away from
him. He looked as if he was going to let loose a flood of pee, right on
me! My aunt turned and slapped Robin hard on his bare chest. Robin
shouted. Startled, he dropped his hands to his sides. I stared at
Rebecca. She seemed surprised at how quickly and forcefully she’d
acted. I sensed a jealousy within me. Did she love Robin like I did?
“You will all be given clothes, and you will dress, right here,
in front of us all,” the Prince said. “Then you will be escorted to a
car, and my guards will accompany you, to insure you don’t play with
yourselves.” He laughed. But groans went up from his guests, for they
had been looking forward to seeing Robin whipped and made to cum.
“I want to spank his ass!” Sabrina said.
“I want to feel him spurt in my face!” a woman gushed.
“We have plenty of slaves at our disposal, ladies,” the Prince
said. “But as for these four, they have a specially hard road ahead for
themselves. Hours in a car, clad in tight jeans, all four of them.” He
laughed again. He looked at me. “Chloe, don’t you feel lucky?” he
asked. “It is because you’re so beautiful that I’m giving you your own
cabin.”
“It’s because you know we’ll fuck like animals, and you’ll be
able to sell the tape,” Jim said. I looked at him, wide-eyed. Would we
fuck like animals? I gulped. Yes, we would. He was more honest with
himself than I was, always tangling myself in girlish white lies.
“The price of oil is depressed at the moment,” the Prince said
to Jim. “You should look forward to the opportunity to serve my kingdom
in so profitable a manner.”
“Oh! What if boys in America see me?” I gasped. The thought
of being given complete privacy, to perform acts which might afterwards
be seen by anyone, shocked me. I looked at my aunt. She dropped her
eyes, and gazed at her feet. Her fingers still played in her bush. But
she did not touch herself where she needed it most. Much later I
remembered I had offered myself to cameras once before, at Helene’s.
But she was a much more discreet host than this stupid Prince Havash
was.
I sat between Jim and Robin in the car. It was a stretch
limo. It accommodated the guards as well as ourselves. Rebecca sat by
Robin, next to the door. I wished she had been put beside Jim instead,
for in her nervousness (or was it something more?) she stroked Robin’s
thigh with her hand.
My eyes flitted from one man’s groin to the other. Both looked
tremendously full, as if a cucumber and eggs had been stuffed into the
front of each man’s pants. Jim tried to look relaxed by giving me an
occasional smile, otherwise directing his gaze out the window. But,
sitting so close, I could feel a trembling in his body, as if there were
a shuddering spring wound tight in him, that was aching to be released.
A strangeness enveloped me. Despite my harsh treatment in
Quatar, everywhere I had gone I had been constantly complimented on my
beauty. I had been clothed in it, wearing my naked skin as most people
wear fine garments they buy on Fifth Avenue. But now I was dressed, and
my clothes distracted me. They hid my loveliness from the two men I
wanted most in the world. At any other time I might have tolerated the
clothes. A pair of jeans, after all, tightly worn, reveals much. But I
was so used to being utterly free, to presenting my bare self to
whomever cast me the smallest glance, that it was a trial to sit there
in that car, wearing jeans. A t-shirt, unadorned, hugged my upper
body. My bosoms pressed tightly into it, pushing the shirt forth into
twin globes. I wore no bra and my nipples perked into the shirt. It
was a simple covering, yet too much, in my excited state, and I wanted
it off right away.
Rebecca squirmed. I looked across at her. She wore her hair
in a scarf, to keep herself correct in the eyes of Moslem observers. I
was only 13, still able to evade such laws, according to the Prince.
Perhaps he liked the contrast we offered; myself with my hair flowing in
blonde abundance down over my shoulders, Rebecca sitting primly, her
hair pinned neatly up under a scarf. Otherwise she was dressed in
jeans, like me, and a t-shirt, but she had a small leather coat pulled
over the shirt, again for modesty. Both Robin and Jim wore jeans and
bright polo shirts. Robin’s green, Jim’s blue.
Our limo passed through a small village. Chickens, pecking in
the road, scattered before our car. It slowed to wait for children,
playing soccer in the dirt street, to pick up their ball and scuttle
away. We rolled on, out into the desert, nothing but barren sand for
miles around. In the car all was cool, quiet. I could hear Jim and
Robin breathing. On the other side of the metal walls that enclosed us
the temperature was well over 100.
A guard opened a small bottle. He smiled at the man sitting
beside him, who smiled back. They both wore swords around their waists
and I hoped they didn’t have any plans for them. As it turned out, the
swords might have been quick and easy to bear.
“Open your trousers,” the guard said to Jim.
“Huh?” Jim asked.
“Unzip yourself,” the guard ordered.
“Hot dog!” Robin exclaimed. Immediately he pulled down the
zipper over his groin. His thing popped through the opening of his
undone zipper. The men wore no underpants. The Prince had prohibited
them.
To my delighted surprise, I watched as both men unzipped
themselves. Robin’s cock pulsed in the open air, free of his pants.
Jim’s remained stuck in his pants, too big to come through the unzipped
fly.
The guard leaned forward. In his hand he held the bottle.
“What’s that?” Jim asked.
“You’ll feel soon enough,” the guard said.
“Is it water?” Robin asked. “You can pour water on my dick if
you like. It’s feeling pretty hot!”
I wondered if Robin hoped the sensation of the water pouring
over his dick would cause him to spurt. He was young. Even though
cumming was expressly prohibited, perhaps he hoped he could blame the
whole thing on the guard.
“It’s not water,” the guard replied.
“Oh,” Robin said.
The guard titled the bottle over Jim’s lap. A brown fluid
emerged from the mouth of the bottle. It spilled into Jim’s open fly.
“Hey!” Jim blurted.
“Hold still,” the guard said. I don’t want to spill it all
over your pants. It’s expensive.”
“Ack! So’s my dick!” Jim retorted. The guard continued to
pour. I saw Jim’s face twist into a frown.
“Oh, Jim! What’s happening?” I cried.
“It’s...” Jim gasped. He could have easily batted the bottle
away with his hands, but it would have meant the sword for his penis
instead. So he endured, as the guard with the bottle filled up his
trouser hole with fluid. “God! I feel like my dick is itching!” Jim
announced.
“Your dick should be itching,” the guard said. There was a
smug grin on his face. “But don’t scratch it. You must suffer, and
think always of your penis, until we reach the cabin and you can find
relief.”
“Oh, shit! I was already thinking about my penis. Now I’m
dying!” Jim gasped. He squirmed on the seat.
I clapped my hands to my face. But Rebecca saw possibilities
in the bottle, and smiled.
“Please, let me do him. If he must be done,” Rebecca said to
the guard. She was speaking of Robin, who innocently sat between us
with his penis sticking out of his pants.
“Alright,” the guard said. He handed the bottle to Rebecca.
“It is good that you cooperate,” he said. Robin watched, wide-eyed, as
did I.
Rebecca sniffed the bottle’s open mouth. Smelling nothing
overtly harmful, she looked at Robin. Her eyes gleamed mischievously.
“Hold your dick still, dear, while I give you the Prince’s
newest test,” Rebecca told Robin.
“Good lord! Don’t tell me you’re enjoying this?” Jim Rutland,
sitting across from me, yelled to my aunt.
“Just a little,” Rebecca replied. “Even though we are slaves,
you are male slaves, and Chloe and I are female. Plus, you would do us
no favors if you saw that phalluses had to be put into us.”
“Ah, God!” Jim shouted. He squirmed as the sensuous itching
lotion burned into the flesh of his cock. I looked at the guards. I
felt such pity for Jim! He had such a big one! To think how he must
feel, jammed into his jeans, with his cock afire!
“My he at least pull his dick out of his pants?” I asked the
guards. “Perhaps the air would cool it a little.”
“You may pull it out,” one of the guards told me. “But do not
rub him. Just release him, from his pants, if that is indeed what he
wishes.”
Jim rolled his eyes. The last thing he wanted, I’m sure, was
to show off his penis to our captors. But he couldn’t stand being
stuffed into his jeans, and now the itching lotion was causing him
agony. He looked at me with beseeching eyes.
“Yes,” Jim said. “Pull it out.” He glanced at the guards,
sitting across from us, and at the swords they wore. I gulped, as
nervous as he, and leaned over him and dug into his fly for his cock.
It felt like a big sausage in there, trapped and pulsing. Like a snake,
caged, dying to spurt out its deadly venom.
Our car travelled through miles of open desert. On either side
of me, sticking up palm-like, were the penises of Jim and Robin. At
last I saw real palms, in the distance.
“An oasis!” I cried. I pointed at the palms that stood tall
amidst the wasteland of shimmering sand. I giggled at the thought of
leaving the desert, and being totally surrounded and flanked and
submerged in a thicket of long, thick objects.
“Palms to the left of me. Palms to the right of me. Palms
over my head!” I shouted. I pressed my hands to the limo’s seat. I
bounced up and down.
“Be good, Chloe,” my aunt admonished.
“I’ve always wanted to live in an Oasis, ever since I heard the
band,” I said.
“I don’t think... that there are any British bands here,” Robin
said. His voice was haggard. He squirmed beside me. Even though he
and Jim were both older than me, both men found it impossible to sit
still. My aunt didn’t scold them. She knew it would have been
fruitless. The guards, watching us, had no objection, as long as the
men didn’t masturbate.
Jim and Robin still wore their pants, but both of them offered
their cocks to our eyes. They were desperate. Their cocks were
slathered with the itching lotion. Each man stabbed at the cool air of
the limo with his penis, repeatedly lifting his hips up off the seat.
They groaned, like penitents in Hell.
My aunt laughed.
“You boys should have used the bathroom before we left the
palace,” my aunt said.
“What?” Jim asked. His voice was distracted. All he could
think about was his dick! He shifted his weight on the seat. His penis
arched up like a spear. He was oozing pre-cum from his cock’s peehole.
Only the pre-cum, sliding down the sides of his dick, offered any hope
of relief from the itching lotion that covered his manhood.
“It isn’t funny, what we’re going through,” Robin complained.
I looked from one man’s cock to the other; Jim’s now stood up out of his
fly, just like Robin’s, and they were both oozing pre-cum. Across from
the men sat our three guards. Each one had a sword, and permission to
cut off the penis of either Robin or Jim, if he should touch himself.
They were openly amused at the predicament of my friends. They
obviously hoped for a chance to lop off their dicks.
“Ah, God!” Jim groaned. He arched his hips up; as if to stab
into the ceiling over our heads.
“Now are you beginning to wish you didn’t have a penis?” one of
the guards, who had poured the lotion into Jim’s pants, asked him.
“A... Almost!” Jim confessed. The guard grinned at him,
fingering his sword.
“You have the power in your hands to relieve yourself of your
distress,” the guard said. “I have cotton, bandages, and pain killer
with me. Just fondle yourself, and I will remove all your problems.”
“No!” Jim gasped.
I glared at the guard. “You’re evil,” I said. He appeared
nonplussed.
“I’m an Arab. Jim is a white man,” the guard answered.
“What’s that have to do with it?!” I said. My voice was
frantic. I was scared to death that Jim or Robin would frig himself. I
would have fondled them both myself, but I was frightened of the
guards. I knew they would cut me apart just as quickly as they’d cut
Jim or Robin.
“There should be no infidels in our Kingdom,” the Arab guard
told me. He leered at me, then added. “Except a few white female
slaves.”
I cringed. I said nothing. I prayed the guards lived up to
the Prince’s rules; if we obeyed, no harm would come to us. I looked at
my aunt, fearfully. I saw she was sitting hunched down on the seat.
“Auntie, don’t touch them,” I warned her, speaking of our
friends Jim and Robin.
“I won’t,” Rebecca replied. Her voice was a murmur, nothing
more. She was amused by the men’s penises, but knew that there was a
terror underlying it all, a terror that could have dire consequences for
us if we disobeyed.
“Yeeehoooch!” Robin said. He continued to squirm. The lotion
was all over his dick. My aunt had done a great job of wetting every
inch of his skin. His cock head, right down to the base of his dick,
gleamed with an otherworldly glow. He wriggled his hips on the seat.
He thrust upward repeatedly with his dick, which stood exposed, hoping
the air might cool him. Only the pre-cum, oozing from his pee slit,
gave any hope of relief from the itchy lotion. I wanted to bend over
and lick his dick, lollipop-style, but I feared the guards would cut off
my tongue.
“Please hang on, Robin!” I urged. I clasped his hand. He
gripped my fingers. He looked into my eyes. Oh, how I yearned to kiss
him! Especially his poor cock! I fought with myself. How I wished to
help him, no matter the cost!
As I gripped Robin’s hand, our limo pulled under the shady
canopy of the desert oasis. The palms grew thick and close, and
immediately I felt cooler, even though our limo was air-conditioned.
Disappointed looks crossed the guards’ faces as they realized our men
would manage to keep from violating the Prince’s rules. Jim and Robin
had survived; they would keep their cocks.
More guards were waiting for us, at the oasis. They stood
under the shade of the palms. Our limo rolled up in front of a squat
adobe structure. I guessed it was the “cabin” the prince had spoken
of. The guards waiting outside reached for our car’s doors and opened
them for us as the limo halted.
“Damn!” one of the guards in our limo muttered.
“You guys lose. We win,” I chided him.
“Shhh!” Rebecca scolded me. There was no sense in provoking
the guards, but I couldn’t help myself. They’d threatened to cut off
poor Robin’s penis, and Jim’s, and I wanted them to know that we had
bested them.
We got out. Immediately I felt the desert heat upon me.
Children, standing in the road, stared at us. I saw Arab townsfolk
peering from the windows of their homes. They owned modest homes, small
mud-brick buildings like our cabin. The guards who had been waiting for
us showed a grudging respect. Perhaps they thought Jim or Robin would
break, and would arrive dickless. As it was, both men got out of the
limo displaying massive hard ons; they were proud they’d survived the
journey, but embarrassed as heck to be showing off their penises to the
villagers and the guards!
“This way,” one of the guards said. We were led forward to the
small mud-walled building. He took a ring of keys from his belt. He
put the largest key into the keyhole of the door. It was a big wooden
door, thick and sturdy. He did not turn the key but instead looked at
us and said:
“My name is Akbar. I wish for you to undress. Take off
everything.”
“Let us inside,” my aunt answered. She looked askance at the
villagers, who stared frankly at us.
“No,” Akbar said. “You must undress here, on the doorstep.”
“Sir,” Jim said, trying to sound reasonable as he moved his
hips back and forth. “Surely you can show some respect for these
ladies.”
The guard looked at us with gentle eyes, but we were surrounded
by men with swords, and he himself had a sword hanging from his belt.
He grinned. “You will do as I say. Undress now, in front of our humble
villagers, so that your beauty can be admired by them.”
“Damn!” my aunt said. I shivered and looked at her. I didn’t
like the idea of stripping in front of these obnoxious villagers, who
kept staring, but she positively hated it.
“Oh. And keep your scarf on,” Akbar told my aunt. “Arab
custom.”
We stripped. There is no polite way to describe it; we took
off our clothes, every scrap, and handed them over to the guards. Jim
and Robin looked like Greek statues when they were undressed. My aunt
got to keep the scarf that covered her hair, otherwise, she was as naked
as me.
“Now I will let you inside,” Akbar said. He turned the key in
the door. But before pushing the door open, he said, “In here, you will
face the ultimate humiliation. It is because you will be free to do as
you wish. If the villagers hear you scream through the open windows of
this cabin, it will be because of what you yourselves choose to do to
each other. “Everything you do here will be filmed, and
watched by those at the palace. You will have no privacy, even though
it might seem that you do, because, within these four walls, you will be
left to yourselves.”
Jim frowned. “Are you saying that we’re going to be left
alone?”
“Yes,” Akbar said.
Robin reached for my hand and squeezed it.
“Sounds like a honeymoon,” Robin said hopefully. I blushed; I
knew where his hard on would be if that were the case!
Akbar swung the door to the cabin open. “However,” Akbar
said. “This cabin is no ordinary home, or even an ordinary honeymoon
suite. It is designed, completely and totally, for the maximum
infliction of pain.”
My heart missed a beat. I felt my breath catch in my throat.
Within the mud-walled structure, I saw an array of evil-looking
equipment. It gleamed, like a wet spider’s web, waiting for prey. I
felt Robin squeeze my hand, hard, and the pressure of his grip was so
tight a short scream was forced from my throat. Immediately I turned,
blushing, and gazed at the homes across the street. The villagers stood
waiting, silently watching, gazing with their brown eyes in their brown
faces at my bare white skin and my long blonde mane of hair. Did they
find my pale, unmarked bottom amusing? I wondered. And Robin’s? We
stood like white-tailed rabbits at the door to the above-ground dungeon,
looking in, like frightened children on our first day of school.
It would have been different if we were slaves, absolute
slaves, subject to another’s will. But I sensed that the villagers knew
that whatever happened to us in this dungeon would be our own doing. If
they heard me scream, if they heard Robin moan, it would be because we’d
chosen to be bad, not because anyone had forced us. That made me blush
even more deeply, and I looked at Rebecca hoping to find answers in her
eyes. Instead, I saw the same abject fear, mixed with longing. A kind
of virginal loathing mingled with desire.
Oh, if only I hadn’t been so in love with Robin! And with
Jim! Both men made me tingle all over, and in the most disquieting
parts of myself. Rebecca too, I saw, was clinging to Jim’s hand, hoping
for salvation in his big body but yearning, too, for release, and for
wickedness.
I stepped forward. My bare foot touched the hard, cold floor
of the interior of the building. I wanted to draw it back, not knowing
what had impelled me to enter, but Robin’s hand pressed to my bottom and
urged me forward. My other foot followed and I was within, his hands
wrapped tightly around my waist. His dick thrust rudely between my legs
and pulsed up against my sex. I looked down. I saw his cockhead
sticking out from between the front of my thighs. It made me look like
I was a boy.
“Mmmm,” Robin groaned. He was standing bent-legged behind me,
his chest pressed hard to my back, his muscles hard against my soft
skin. I could feel his chest flex. I felt the hardness of his thighs
against the backs of my legs. Slowly he thrust himself back and forth
underneath my sex. His thick, tube-like penis was jammed harshly
against the purse of my cunt. It felt as if he was trying to fuck me
laterally, by wedging the stem of his cock up hard into the enclasping
lips of my sex.
Some of the itching lotion on the staff of his cock rubbed off
on my cuntlips. My sex, already aroused, began to burn.
“Oh, Robin!” I cried. I looked with wide, longing eyes at his
cockhead, still sticking rudely out the front of my tight-pressed
thighs. “Put yourself in me first, if you must have me!” I felt
desperation at his being so close, yet not thrust into me like he should
be.
“No,” a female voice said. We both turned, Robin and I, at
once. Our contact was broken. Only the clasping of our two hands
remained, my right in his left. We stood separated, clinging by our
fingers, naked as Adam and Eve, staring as if discovered by God.
It wasn’t God, of course, who had spoken. It was Rebecca. She
had stepped within the room too, and now stood at the doorway. As she
stood there, framed by the hot bright sunlight of the desert beyond,
Akbar closed the door. It shut, leaving us in semi-darkness. I
flinched. Robin did too, but Rebecca stood unmoving.
Lights in the room came on, automatically. I felt the presence
of eyes watching, of cameras humming. I looked about, frantic to find
the places from which we were being watched by the Prince, back at the
Palace.
“There’s one!” I cried. I saw a small black nozzle placed high
up in a corner, where two walls met. Then I saw another, on the
ceiling, and another, and another! They were everywhere! The floor,
the ceiling, the walls. They were the size of small coins and gleamed
opaquely. I felt them zooming in, focusing, observing. I wondered how
many of them were trained between my legs, on my cunt, burning now from
the shunting back and forth of Robin’s stiff cock.
Jim stood beside Rebecca. He held her hand. We were all naked
and the men were clearly in agony from the itching lotion that had been
spread upon their dicks.
Rebecca reached for an object on the wall, next to the door.
It was a riding crop. It was made of black leather and about two feet
long. It was hung up on a nail by its looped tip. Rebecca grasped it
in her soft hand and took it down. She brandished it at us.
“There’s only one way we’re going to avoid making complete
fools of ourselves,” Rebecca said. She pulled off her scarf. She let
go of it and it fluttered to the floor. She looked at us. Her eyes
peered into each of us, one by one, and I was both pleased and shocked
that she was taking control of the situation.
Jim looked around. There were all sorts of evil devices in the
room. Cages, a whipping post, a pillory, a medical examination table,
and many other things, including an assortment of whips hung from the
far wall. There was a trestle, identical to the one Robin had been tied
to at the palace, complete with an upright board behind it. There was
also a toilet, and toilet paper, but I saw no sink. I also saw no bed.
There were, however, several slim mattresses stacked at an angle,
standing up against a wall. I saw cushions but no pillows. I saw an
array of lotions and oils on a small table.
“What do you suggest?” Jim asked. I sensed cameras focussing
on his enlarged, sex-hungry organ as he spoke. It dripped pre-cum onto
the cold concrete floor.
“Well, first of all, there will be no sex,” Rebecca said
primly.
“What?!” Robin groaned. He heaved his hips forward,
practically begging her to take him in hand and jerk him off. Oh, how
big he looked! I longed to disobey Rebecca at once and do whatever I
might to relieve him.
“We shall just have to endure our stay here,” Rebecca said.
“But I can’t!” Robin groaned. “I need to cum NOW!”
A smile crossed my aunt’s face. It was, I admit, rather
amusing to see Robin so desperate. She looked at his hard-on with
sympathetic eyes.
“I’m afraid you men will have to be put into restraints, and
caged,” Rebecca said.
“What?” Jim asked.
Rebecca looked at Jim. I could feel the cameras lingering on
her every private part as she stared at his cock, finally lifting her
eyes to his face. “Do you really think you men could spend the night
here, perhaps several nights here, without fucking us?” Rebecca asked.
“No. Obviously,” Jim said. He offered his penis to her by
pushing his hips forward. Rebecca touched the end of Jim’s penis with
her finger. immediately it became wet from his drooling pre-cum. She
took her finger away and put it to her lips, licked, and smiled.
“That’s why I’m going to make you wear restraints, and to get
into those cages,” Rebecca said. She pointed. All of us looked. There
were a pair of cages, one on top of the other, in the center of the
room. They were the perfect size to accept a male, provided he sat down
in the cage. In each cage I saw a small bowl, where water or food might
be put.
“You want us caged, like animals?” Jim asked. Did I sense a
quiet thrill in his voice? I don’t know. Robin’s hand tightened upon
my own. I squeezed his in reply, did I wish to encourage him to get
into one of the cages, so he could be held captive by me?
“All three of you will wear restraints,” Rebecca said,
including me in her plan, dashing my hopes of being Robin’s mistress.
“Oh, auntie!” I cried. “Don’t make me be a slave too!”
“We’re all slaves,” Rebecca said. “But we’re going to keep at
least a shred of our dignity.” She walked over to a wall where padded
leather cuffs hung amidst whips and paddles. She took down several
cuffs, plus a key hanging on a ring, and locked one of the cuffs around
her own wrist. Then she tried the key in the cuff, and unlocked it.
“Good,” Rebecca said. “Here. I want all three of you to put these
cuffs on your wrists and your ankles. Plus, we have longer ones hanging
here too, on the wall, for your thighs, to be put just above your knees,
I assume. And there are cuffs for your arms, to be locked just above
your elbows.”
I gaped at the array of cuffs my aunt was now taking down off
the wall. She selected collars too, all of them made of leather, and
padded with fur on the inside. A white one for me, black ones for the
men.
Feeling silly, but knowing there was probably good sense in the
matter, we took the cuffs and collars from my aunt. We buckled each
other into them. Robin and Jim helped me. Then I helped them. My aunt
watched, holding the riding crop in her hand that she’d taken down from
its hook beside the door.
When we were properly outfitted, Rebecca examined our cuffs.
She put her key into each one, locking it, so we couldn’t remove them.
“Very good,” Rebecca said. “Now you will all be hobbled with
chains. You will each wear a heavy chain between your ankles. I’ve
seen Chloe tease boys before, and even grown men, and get them to chase
her around. That won’t be possible once your feet are locked into
chains.”
“Rebecca!” Jim protested. “Don’t you think you’re going too
far? I mean, what if we have to escape?”
“We’re prisoners,” Rebecca said. “Let’s be good prisoners, and
hopefully the Prince will be good to us.” She put her riding crop to
her lips and gently bit into the looped, leather tip. She looked at Jim
with her big green eyes. I think that is the moment when our plans
changed, though at the time none of us would have been willing to admit
that.
The men chained their legs. The chains were big and heavy and
Jim and Robin did most of the work handling them. When my own legs were
bound, and I tried to walk, it was difficult. The chains dragged on the
floor, making my feet feel like lead. Only Rebecca remained uncuffed
and unchained, though she had donned a small collar, from which she hung
the key that might free us all from our bonds.
“Get in the cages,” Rebecca said.
“Me too?” I piped up, seeing there were only two. Perhaps I
hoped my aunt would put me into Robin’s cage.
“No, not you,” Rebecca told me. “The men must be fed and
watered, and I’ll need your help with that.”
“God, this is ridiculous!” Robin said. But I sensed an
eagerness in his movements as he watched Rebecca unlock the cage
intended for him, the top cage, and then as he climbed up into it. He
tried to lift his head once he was inside, and bumped it against the
bars forming the roof of his cage.
“Ow,” Robin whined.
“Turn around in there. Sit down,” Rebecca ordered. Robin
obeyed. His foot chain clanked against the bars. He sat down with
nervous uncertainty on the bars that formed the floor of his cage. He
tried first sitting with one of the bars jammed between the cheeks of
his ass; found that uncomfortable, and shifted so that his asscrack
rested between two bars. His testicles fell between the bars and hung
like ripe fruit into the cage intended for Jim. His foot chain also
hung down between the bars making up the floor of his cage.
“I feel like a dog at the dog pound,” Robin muttered. I put my
hands over my mouth and giggled.
At Rebecca’s urging, and with a patting of her small palm upon
his behind, Jim got into the cage underneath Robin. At once he became
aware of Robin’s balls hanging down and, more importantly, of the boy’s
cock.
“Hey! He’s dripping pre-cum into my cage!” Jim said. Then he
tried lifting his head, only to find that his cage was as small as
Robin’s. He banged his head on the bars overhead.
“Ouch!” Jim said.
“Good heavens!” Rebecca declared. She looked at me and
smiled. “Turn around, Jim. Sit down, just like Robin is. I swear, you
men are all equally dumb!”
Jim’s foot chain scraped along the bars forming the floor of
his cage. He turned and sat. He looked up at Robin’s ass, overhead,
and at the boy’s balls suspended over him. He reached up and yanked on
Robin’s turgid cock.
“I could use this thing as a bell pull to call for my dinner,”
Jim remarked.
“Hey!” Robin hollared.
“See?” Jim said. He looked at Rebecca and me. “I pull on
this, and the boy yells. It’ll work every time.”
I’m sure the people watching us from the Palace were amused by
Jim’s humor. Our arrangements to keep them well-watered and fed
probably tickled them even more.
Rebecca unchained my feet. She said I was being good and that
she needed my help. She left the white cuffs on my arms and legs,
though, and around my thighs and upper arms. She said I needed them, to
remind me that I must do as I was told.
“Don’t worry, auntie. I’ll be good,” I said. I wiggled my
hips as I said it, for the itching lotion from Robin’s cock was making
my cunt feel like there was a match under it.
“Well, don’t touch yourself,” Rebecca told me. “Keep your
fingers out of your cunt.”
“Okay,” I said. I didn’t like not being able to play with
myself, or let a man do it for me, but I decided that if Robin and Jim
could show self-restraint, I could too. Even if I was just a girl, and
younger than both of them.
“Now, let’s see. The men each have one doggie bowl, in their
cages,” my aunt said. She put a finger to her lips and considered.
“Let’s use them for food,” I suggested. “We should at least
feed them, if we’re going to keep them locked up.”
“Alright,” Rebecca said. “Let’s see if the guards left us
something to feed them, then.”
“Okay!” I cried. I liked the idea of feeding Jim and Robin, as
if they were pets. They were both awfully big pets. Imagine having
them forever, as my very own!
We found a box of crackers. I tasted them. Crumbs fell from
my mouth onto my naked breasts. I brushed them off with my fingers.
“Yum! They’re nice and fresh!” I told my aunt.
Jim, sitting in his cage, laughed. I glared at him.
“Not my bosoms, you bozo. These crackers!” I said.
“Oh,” Jim said, not sounding the least bit contrite.
My auntie opened each of the men’s cages for me. I leaned in
and placed several crackers in each of their bowls. Jim tried to fondle
my breasts but Rebecca told him not to.
Next, there was the problem of how to water the men. My aunt
and I noticed there were several I.V. poles in the room. We also found
a faucet, next to the toilet, sticking out of the wall. We filled an
empty saline bag with water from the faucet, and then hung up the bag on
the I.V. pole.
“This is the best we can do, I’m afraid,” Rebecca sighed when
she and I had prepared a way for the men to drink. “You can share the
I.V.,” Rebecca told the men. “Just release the clamp on the I.V. line
and suck from the tip of the I.V. when you need to drink.”
“Alright,” Jim and Robin said.
“What about if they have to go to the bathroom?” I asked my
auntie. She looked over her shoulder at the medical table.
“Don’t tell me,” Jim said.
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Rebecca said. “I don’t want to have to
let you men loose every hour. If I catheterize you, I can leave you
both locked up for however long you must be, until the guards let us
out.”
“Oh, auntie!” I cried. But despite my squeal of horror at
seeing the men treated that way, I didn’t beg her not to do it. In
fact, I think we all felt a little thrilled at how animal-like and
degraded it would make them. Even Robin and Jim, I think, couldn’t
resist, among friends, the thought of it. Perhaps they hoped Rebecca’s
hands, fondling them, would finally bring their penises much-needed
relief as she attempted to jam a catheter up each of their dicks.
“Let me start with you, since you’re older,” Rebecca said to
Jim. She unhooked the key that hung from her collar. She inserted it
into the door of his cage, gazing in at him through the wrought iron
bars, and unlocked it. Jim’s cage door creaked as my aunt opened it.
“Hmmm. It may need some oil,” my aunt said of the door. She reached
within the cage and caught the knob of Jim’s penis with her fingers.
They looked small against his large, pulsing cock. Pre-cum oozed forth
from his pee slit as she tugged on his dick, making me fear, for a
moment, that he was cumming from the pressure of her enclasping touch.
But he was not. She pulled on his sausage-like organ and caused him to
scoot his ass forward, until his feet hit the floor. His chain
followed, clanking onto the floor between his bound ankles.
Jim exited his cage at a crouch, careful not to bump his head
on the cage above him, where Robin sat. He seemed glad to be out from
under Robin’s dripping penis. He had pre-cum in his pubic hair where
Robin, sitting above him, had dripped onto his crotch. When he was out
of his cage, Jim stood up. He looked like Tarzan, suddenly unbound,
caught by trappers in the jungle but free at last.
Jim still wore his collar and wrist and ankle cuffs, as well as
the leather restraints above his knees and his elbows. He couldn’t
unlock them. Only my aunt could do that, with her key. He might have
grabbed the key from her collar but he did not. He was a docile
Tarzan. Rebecca let go of Jim’s dick and sleeked her fingers along his
hips, then up the side of his chest, savoring his tense muscles. At
last, sweeping her fingers down his right arm, she caught at the leather
cuff above his elbow. The cuffs all had silver rings hanging from them,
like ornaments hung from a Christmas tree. I wondered what they were
for. My aunt put her finger through one of the rings hanging off the
cuff around Jim’s arm. She pulled on it. Is that what the rings were
for, I wondered, so a man could be pulled? (Or me, for that matter!) I
watched, wide-eyed, as my aunt drew Jim over to the medical exam table.
It was made of white formica. Cushions had been form-fitted over the
top of it, to ease the suffering of anyone forced to undergo a procedure
on it.
Rebecca looked up at Jim and patted his arm. “Don’t worry,
I’ve had a little nursing,” Rebecca said. “I think I know what I’m
doing. It shouldn’t hurt too much.”
Jim’s eyes looked at the catheter that hung off an I.V. pole
near the base of the table. He looked down at his dick, which swung
whenever he moved.
I pointed at Jim’s erection. “I’m glad its a long catheter.
It’ll have to be, to go all the way up *that*,” I said.
Jim looked at Rebecca. He flexed his arm, and she had to
struggle to keep her finger in the ring of his cuff, for he drew his arm
across his chest, dragging her arm along with his, until at last he had
her pulled taut, her arm stretched across the front of his body. Jim
scratched his shoulder, but I guessed it didn’t really itch; he just
wanted to show her that, even hobbled and cuffed, he was still the more
powerful. Rebecca looked up at him, beseechingly. Was he going to be
difficult? They both knew he could be impossible to handle if he wished
to be.
“At least do me one favor,” Jim said to my aunt.
“What?” she asked. Her lips formed a pretty O as she spoke the
word.
“Tie her up,” Jim said, and pointed at me.
“What?!” I screeched.
“It’s bad enough I have to sit in a cage, without her wiggling
her little bare bottom all over the room,” Jim said.
“You’re quite right,” Rebecca agreed.
“No! Auntie! I don’t want to be tied!” I shouted. My voice
was high-pitched and I immediately blushed, guessing that the neighbors,
the people who lived in the mud-walled huts around ours, must have heard
me. I ran from my aunt and Jim. Rebecca dashed after me.
Lickety-split, like a rabbit trying to escape a wolf, I ran with my
white bottom-cheeks pumping hard, their soft cheeks bouncing in time to
my feet hitting the floor. I ran to the door. I tried the knob. No
use; it was locked! I ran to a window, my aunt following close behind
me, and threw back the opaque curtains. The window was open, the
air-conditioning of our room rushing out of it, forming a breeze at my
back. But I could not climb through. As with the windows in our
bedroom at the Palace, this window had bars over it. Iron bars, like
the bars of the cages the men were kept in.
My aunt caught my hair. I tried to pull away. She grabbed at
one of the rings hanging off the cuff round my arm. I was captured. I
could not escape. Then, a most curious thing happened. She turned me
and pressed her face to mine. Her lips sought, mine opened in
surprise. I felt my breath exhale and go into her mouth. Yet she did
not take her face from mine but instead pressed harder, engaging my
wide-apart lips in a full, open-mouthed kiss.
“Auntie!” I gasped, when at last Rebecca drew her face off
mine. I was tangled in the curtains, my body between them, and I
realized the Arabs outside, staring from their homes, must have seen my
aunt kissing me in the window.
“I’m going to spank your little bottom,” Rebecca said to me.
Her eyes danced with amusement but there was no mistaking the
threatening tone in her voice.
“No! Auntie!” I cried. I twisted in her arms, which had
slipped around me as she kissed me. She was taller than me and I looked
up at her in wide-eyed apprehension.
“Yes,” Rebecca said. “This is the perfect place for it. With
the Prince watching, with the neighbors hearing, yet in a place where we
will never be again, if the Prince does as he’s promised and lets us
go.”
“Oh, auntie!” I shrieked. Jim came up beside us and stood
close to me. He took hold of one of my arms so that I couldn’t escape
again.
“Put her face down on the pillory table,” Jim suggested.
“Yes!” my aunt agreed.
“You mustn’t!” I shouted. Wriggling, fighting both of them, I
was dragged over to a table that stood at waist-height. At its foot
there were clamps where a person’s legs could be held apart. At its
head was a wooden pillory, with holes in it for one’s head and hands.
My aunt pushed me onto the table. It was made of bare wood.
She forced me to lie down. Jim helped her. With a moan I found myself
lying on my tummy, my breasts cushioning me but otherwise quite
uncomfortable upon the hard wood of the table’s surface. My chin was
lifted and my head was pulled forward until my neck was through the
pillory. Padding in the neck hole, plus the fact that it lay flush
against the table’s surface, kept me from being impossibly
discomforted. There was no padding in the arm holes and my wrists were
rudely thrust through them. Then the pillory was shut upon me and
locked with the same key Rebecca used for the cages and for our cuffs.
It was quite a handy key, I realized. I wondered if it unlocked the
front door too.
With my head and hands bound, Rebecca and Jim went to work on
my feet. There would be no stealing of Rebecca’s key and trying the
front door for me! They separated my legs, widely, and then affixed
them to clamps at the base of the table. The clamps were made of steel
and felt cold against my legs. I shivered.
“Oil her anus,” Jim said.
“We are not doing all this to give your penis a joy ride,”
Rebecca scolded.
“She should worry that she might be used for a man’s pleasure,”
Jim said.
“Oh, alright,” Rebecca relented. “But don’t jump on her the
minute I’m done.”
“I won’t,” Jim answered. They both seemed to be smiling but I
couldn’t see, lying where I was, face down on the table, with my head
through the pillory. Then I found a mirror in front of me, sitting
innocuously but with a full view of the room behind me. I guessed it
was so someone in my position could watch her punishment being applied.
I wished I could smash it, when I realized that, but it was impossible.
I was bound hand and foot!
I watched as my aunt went to a small table and selected a
bottle of lotion. She returned to where I lay and bent over my bottom.
“This is going to make you squirm, Chloe,” my aunt said.
“What?!” I cried.
“Not just my finger, but the lubricant too,” my aunt said.
“It’s not ordinary lubricant.”
“No! Auntie!” I shouted.
“What is it?” Jim asked.
“The same stuff you’ve got on your dick,” my aunt said.
“Good,” Jim replied. “Let her have a taste of it.”
“I already do!” I shouted. By now I was paying no attention at
all to the fact that the neighbors could hear us. “I’ve got some on my
cunt, where Robin’s penis rubbed!”
“Well, this is going up your bottom,” my aunt said. She
laughed. “I’m sorry, dear Chloe, but I can’t resist. I want to see you
lying here, wriggling your bare ass all around, while you wait for your
punishment.”
“What?!” I gasped.
“Yes,” Rebecca said. “You’re going to wait for it, Chloe.
Your little bottom is going to squirm and squirm as you wait for HOURS
to get your spanking. Which, I might add, you richly deserve,
considering how lenient I’ve been with you all these weeks. Your ass
will be mighty sore when I get through with you, but I’ll bet you’ll be
perfectly behaved when we go home!”
“Oooooh! No! Please, auntie!” I shouted. At once I felt her
hand descend to my fanny. I heartily wished to feel it slap me, to
prove she’d only been teasing about tormenting me with the waiting, but
I only felt the touch of my aunt’s finger. Gently, it prised between my
cheeks. It found my rose. It pushed. I squealed. It pushed a little
more and then I felt two fingers holding my hole open, as if to see if I
had any poop in me.
A dribbling of liquid touched my anus. I shouted. I twisted
in my bonds. Oh, how that lotion burned against my skin! Jim laughed.
My aunt giggled, and poured more into me, then rubbed it all around my
small puckered hole and pressed it in deep with her finger.
They had to gag me, I was yelling so loudly. They spared my
cunt but they oiled my bottomhole as deeply as they could, Rebecca using
her finger, and then Jim using his, pushing it in deep and laughing as I
bucked on the table.
“Don’t pee on the table, or I’ll run a catheter up you,”
Rebecca warned me. I stared at her self-pityingly through the mirror
but she only smiled and laughed.
“You’ll be quite fine, dear Chloe,” she said. “The lotion is
quite safe, even for your tender bottomhole, though it is designed to
cause you to think about your hole, and all your naughty ways too!”
I felt the leather of my collar, binding my neck. I felt the
leather in the neckhole of the pillory pressing against my throat. My
hands tried to withdraw from the pillory’s hand holes; I could not draw
them back. I wriggled my feet. The clamps on my ankles held them
fast. I curled my toes, as if to take them to market, but they remained
kidnapped by the clamps on my legs which held them at the end of the
table. I lifted my hips as much as my bonds would allow. Oh, how my
anus burned! It itched and glowed with fire, concentrating my thoughts,
drawing my mind toward it until all I could think about was my asshole!
Abjectly, squeezing my naked ass and with tears running from my
eyes, I looked at Jim in the mirror. I sniffled. I tasted the gag in
my mouth and did not want it. Yet I felt a strange consolatory desire.
I wanted to hate my aunt, to hate Jim too, and yet I did not. Instead,
despite my pain and discomfort, I found myself enthusing over Jim’s
beauty! Though he had just finished sticking his broad finger up my
bottom, giving me grief, all I could think of was how huge his body
looked, how wonderful his muscles, and how perfectly shaped his organ of
manhood. To think that my aunt was going to stick a catheter in it!
The thought of Jim submitting to that, of enduring it, drove all
thoughts out of my mind except the one whining, burning thought that
endured above all of how my bottomhole hurt.
“It’s good that you have some lotion in your poop hole,” my
aunt laughed, still standing over me. She was stroking Jim’s cock,
carefully, with her fingers, yet gazing at my ass. “When you are fucked
dear Chloe, by both Jim and Robin, up that sweet little ass of yours, it
is going to feel uncomfortable, both while they’re doing it to you and
afterwards. So the lotion will help prepare you for it, by hurting you
a little now, so that you may endure a greater hurt later.”
Jim looked at Rebecca. There was a predatory light in his
eyes. His penis, already hard, seemed to take on a greater stiffness
and to elongate.
“Is she a virgin?” Jim asked. He sounded hopeful, saying it,
yet I guessed if my aunt said ‘yes’, I could not expect to leave this
room as one! Pre-cum welled at the tip of Jim’s cock and dripped onto
the small of my back.
“She is quite sexually inexperienced,” my aunt replied. “She
didn’t have any boyfriends until this summer. And, as you can see, she
is only 13. Her bottom has yet to truly fill out. Why, I think you
could span her hips with your hand, could you not, Jim?”
“Yes, almost,” Jim answered. He placed his big hand on my
bottom, spreading his fingers out, and nearly encompassed the entire
bulge of both my cheeks. His touch was gentle, despite the fact that
they’d threatened to spank me. He felt the springiness of my ass, and I
sensed he was savoring it.
“Would you like to do the honors?” my aunt asked softly. She
still stroked his dick, though with just her fingertips, lest Jim
baptize my bare upturned ass with his jism.
“I-- You mean, to fuck her up the ass?” Jim asked.
“I mean, to spank her. And to pop her cherry,” my aunt said.
(I wasn’t quite without knowledge of having a man there, but I guess she
decided I was so young and tight that Jim wouldn’t know the difference.)
“Hey, what about me?” Robin piped up. I couldn’t believe he
said that. I mean, he was only 15, close to me in age. Surely he
wasn’t going to reduce me to a virgin a-hole, waiting to be popped!
“What’s the matter, Robin?” my aunt asked. She turned and
looked at him in his cage. “Do you need more water?” she asked. “More
crackers?”
“I need to fuck, and as the youngest, I should get first dibs
on her asshole!” Robin said. He sounded indignant.
“Oh, my!” Rebecca said. “I can’t give her away to both of
you. I mean, ONE of you is going to have to settle for ‘sloppy
seconds’, if you both insist on having her ass.”
(What an aunt, huh? First she takes me to a faraway land and
gives me to a wicked prince, now she’s trying to decide which of two men
fuck my ass!)
I sighed. I felt the wetness of tears on my cheeks. My bottom
churned, my hips rising and falling, my tender cheeks squeezing
repeatedly in an attempt to drive the burning heat from my bottomhole.
I felt if the men had wanted to light cigarettes with my ass, it would
have been very easy. Just open my asscheeks and stick in the tip. My
anus would light it, no problem!
“I have the perfect answer, though it’s dirty as Hell,” Jim
laughed. He seemed to be enjoying my predicament.
“What?” my aunt asked. They looked like Adam and Eve, standing
there together, both of them utterly bare, contemplating me. Was I the
snake? No, Robin owned the snake. He began furtively rubbing his snake
now that my aunt was once again staring at me.
“Her ass is hot,” Jim said. “And my dick’s had enough heat for
one day. And I don’t want to upset Robin by taking her first. So,
there’s only one answer.”
“Yes?” my aunt asked. Jim turned and looked toward the wall
and I followed his eyes. They came to rest on a phalanx of tall
dildos. Hanging above them was a harness strap.
“You must fuck her,” Jim said.
I screamed, but my gag caught my protest and drowned it in me.
My aunt shouted. Then she broke into giggles.
“Sure,” Jim said. “We’ll have you use a ball attachment, and
fill it with baby oil. You can use the baby oil to wash out her bottom,
pumping the oil into her as you ream her, so Robin and I don’t get our
dicks burned when we fuck her. Plus, you’ll open her up more, so it’s
easier for us. I would really like to see it; I’ve had virgins before,
but to see you fucking little Chloe, an aunt fucking her niece, what a
turn on!”
“God!” Robin said from his cage. My aunt turned and regarded
him.
“Robin! Stop playing with your penis!” my aunt admonished.
“Oh, God! I can’t help it! It itches too much!” Robin
replied. As he spoke he reached for the I.V. catheter. He drew his
hands off himself and unclamped it. Then, even though nobody had given
him permission, he squirted I.V. water all over his penis. My aunt
walked over to him, quickly, but by the time she’d gotten the key
unhooked from her collar and his cage door open, Robin had already
spilled water all over himself. The excess of water squirted down
through the bars he was sitting upon and into Jim’s cage. It ran
through the bars forming the floor of Jim’s cage and made a puddle upon
the floor.
“You are naughty, Robin!” my aunt scolded. She took the I.V.
out of his hands. It squirted up onto her breasts and Robin laughed.
Jim laughed too, seeing it. I wished my aunt would drag the I.V. pole
over to me and squirt my bottomhole with it.
My aunt managed to get the I.V. line clamped again, though
there was very little water left in the bag. Robin, seeing her
occupied, attempted to climb down out of his cage, but Jim stopped him.
“We can obviously overpower her at any time and do as we wish,”
he told Robin. “Try to obey. You will find that, at times, there is
enjoyment in cooperating with a woman and being obedient to her.”
“I just want to cum,” Robin said frankly. Jim closed the door
to Robin’s cage. My aunt, trusting him, tossed Jim her key. Jim locked
Robin’s cage so he couldn’t get out.
“Would you like me to fill up the bag again?” Jim asked,
looking at the I.V. pole.
“Yes,” my aunt said. “We may be here awhile. You men will
need to drink and you’ll need to pee too. When you’ve got the bag
filled, Jim, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to lie down on the
medical table.”
“Of course, mistress,” Jim answered.
“God, I hate being dominated by a woman,” Robin said from his
cage.
“We are serving her. It’s different from being dominated,” Jim
answered. He unhooked the bag from the I.V. pole. “Every man should
want to serve a woman,” Jim said.
“I just want to fuck Chloe,” Robin replied.
“Chloe is a child,” my aunt told him.
“Still, I want to fuck her,” Robin said. “Either let me fuck
her, or I’ll jerk off!” He put his hand on his dick.
“No!” Rebecca said. “Please don’t, Robin. I know your balls
are aching. But you must learn control. Don’t just shoot yourself off
every time you’re in the mood. You’re not sitting at home with Hustler
now, you’re with real females, and being trained to serve them
properly. Your sperm isn’t to be wasted in the toilet, or on the floor,
or in the palm of your hand. We have plans for it, Robin, so hang on to
it and take pride in how a full pair of balls makes you so erect.”
“I’m erect whether or not I’ve got sperm in my balls,” Robin
answered. “Heck, I’ll be sitting in Algebra, and what happens? I get
erect. I’m not even thinking about girls, not much, anyway, and *pop*
up comes my dick, and what am I supposed to do? Unzip myself in the
middle of Algebra?”
Rebecca laughed. Her bosoms shook with her laughter. I might
have giggled, myself, but I was gagged. “Oh, the travails of being a
boy,” Rebecca said. “Here we girls have to learn about childbirth, and
periods, and be teased as our breasts grow, but you boys still complain,
because you have to put up with your silly erections!”
“It’s not funny.” Robin said. “You’d understand if you had
one.”
“OH, and why are you erect?” Rebecca asked. “Because you’re
thinking of raping children, isn’t that right, Robin? Of fucking the
girls in your Algebra class!”
“Plus my teacher,” Robin said. His face looked artless and I
admired his honesty.
“Yes, of course, such a pain it is, to have a big penis and be
thinking about fucking the entire planet,” Rebecca mocked.
“Put one on,” Jim suggested. “I think you have a case of penis
envy, Rebecca!” He was filling the I.V. bag at the faucet in the wall,
next to the toilet. He glanced at the row of dildos on a shelf on the
wall. They looked like missiles, waiting to be launched. Right up my
bottom!
“I do feel a little jealous,” Rebecca said. She thrust forward
her hips. She looked down at herself, at her chestnut muff, so pretty
and curly, but with nothing there save, underneath, the lips of her
cunt. She put a hand on her flat, smooth belly. “I’d like to have a
penis. What’s it like, Jim? Running around with your big dick and
popping girl’s cherries and making them pregnant?”
“Er, I wouldn’t know,” Jim replied.
“Come on, Jim!” my aunt said. She ran her fingers through the
long hair hanging down from her head, and swept it back. “Don’t tell me
you’ve never gotten anyone pregnant?”
“Maybe one or two,” Jim said.
“You don’t care, do you?” my aunt said. “I mean, if a girl
doesn’t have anything you might catch from her, you’ve no reason to wear
a condom, do you?”
“Condoms take the fun out of it,” Robin said.
“Oh, so you’d rather get somebody pregnant?” Rebecca asked
him. Robin, who was nothing if not honest, replied, simply and
straightforwardly,
“Not my problem.”
“Ohhhh, you men!” Rebecca said. But at once, sashaying her
hips with womanly allure, she walked over to the dildos and began
examining them. I shivered-- I knew where the one she selected was
going! I tried to speak but my gag kept my jaws apart and my tongue
pushed back. I could only make babyish sounds, in my throat. I was
ignored.
Jim finished filling up the I.V. bag and walked over to the
cages. He hung up the bag next to Robin. He passed the boy the tip of
the I.V. through the bars.
“Here, drink up, so you can pee later,” Jim told Robin. He
looked at Robin’s hard on, his own penis stiff and erect.
“I don’t want to,” Robin answered.
“Drink it, or I’ll shove it in your dick and fill up your
bladder with it,” Jim ordered. He squeezed the I.V. bag, showing the
boy that he intended to get the water into Robin one way or the other.
“Shit. Okay, I’ll drink the fucking thing then,” Robin said.
Angrily he took the I.V. from Jim. The man unclamped the I.V. line and
Robin, sucking upon it, began gulping.
“God, some of these are so long,” Rebecca said, examining the
dildos. She selected one of moderate size, and took down the harness
from the wall. I nearly fainted, watching her. I flexed my
bottomcheeks and prayed she found Jim’s ass more tempting than mine.
“You’ll have to help me get this on,” my aunt told Jim. The
harness was made of slim rubber tubing, similar to the material used for
a tourniquet when you get your blood drawn. It looked insubstantial, as
if the whole thing would be too light and flimsy to hold the dildo my
aunt had chosen to wear.
“Alright,” Jim said. “Did you pick a dildo with balls?”
“Yes,” my aunt answered. And, indeed, the penis she was
holding in her hands had a big rubber testicle sac at its base. There
was a small plastic stopper in it, so it could be filled up and sealed.
Then the only way the fluid inside could escape would be if my aunt
squeezed the balls.
How strange it was, to be lying gagged on the wooden table,
waiting for my bottom to be warmed, and my hole cooled! At the moment
the air of the room, chilled by the air conditioner, made my bottom feel
uncomfortably cold. At the same time, the lotion spread in my anus made
my butthole burn. But soon, the situation would be the reverse! My
pillaged anus would feel cool from having baby oil squirted within it,
while my ass, well-spanked, would feel all hot and bothered. Suddenly I
knew the true nature of bondage-- to take the body and make it a living,
feeling work of art, focused on the privates. As I lay worrying over my
ass, Robin sat in his cage, his penis itching with the lotion and
burning with desire. Jim too had a tormented penis, while my aunt,
Rebecca, looked even more womanly as she played with a fake penis,
pressing it to her brown-haired muff and laughing.
I watched as Jim helped my aunt get into her dildo harness.
They paused several times to kiss as he fitted her into it. When at
last they were done, Rebecca dueled with Jim for a moment. She batted
with her fake cock at his real one. Both penises quivered. They were
like cannons, facing off in a battle, except they could touch one
another if they wished to.
How I swooned, seeing myself surrounded by hard dicks!
Everyone had one, except me, and I felt all girlish inside, and trapped,
and vulnerable. I flexed my legs and tried to close my spread thighs
but the clamps held me firmly apart. I prayed to be spared so many
penises. They were exciting to look at but surely I couldn’t take all
three!
“Now, Jim,” my aunt said. “Let’s get you on the exam table.
It’s time I catheterized that big penis of yours.” She looked strange,
speaking to him in her soft, feminine voice, but with a big penis
hanging off the front of her muff. She wiggled it a little as she
spoke, holding it at its base with her fist. I think she was genuinely
proud of it.
“Alright, mistress,” Jim said.
“No, Jim,” Rebecca said, fisting her dick. “I’m not your
mistress anymore.”
“You aren’t?” Jim asked.
“I’m your father,” Rebecca said.
“Not a chance,” Jim said. “I’m not gay. Plus, for a father,
you’ve got a swell pair of tits.”
“I’m your ambidextrous mistress, then,” Rebecca said.
“I think you mean something else,” Jim answered. He turned and
walked toward the medical table, dragging his foot chain with his
ankles.
“Amphibious?” my aunt asked. She watched with joy as the penis
between her legs waggled with her every step.
“It starts with an A,” Jim said. He sat his bare ass on the
edge of the medical table. Then, with a cautious glance at my aunt and
her newfound penis, he laid back on the table.
“Spread your legs, dear Jim,” my aunt told him.
“Shit,” Jim said. He opened his thighs so she could easily
fondle his balls. At once my aunt did, squeezing them in her small hand
and telling him,
“I don’t want you spurting all this wonderful sperm out as I’m
putting the catheter up you, okay?”
“Alright,” Jim groaned.
“I mean, really,” my aunt said. “I know you’re dying to
shoot. And God-- you’re full enough to create your own Niagara. But I
want you filling Chloe’s little bottomhole with it. The guards would
laugh, I think, if they walked in and found a big puddle of sperm on the
medical exam table.”
“No doubt,” Jim agreed.
“Plus Robin will have to lie here too, and I’m sure he doesn’t
want to lie in your sperm,” Rebecca said.
“You got that,” Robin said from his cage.
Jim tilted his head back and looked at Robin. “Keep drinking,
young man,” Jim said.
“What are you, my father?” Robin asked. His voice was
insolent.
“You’ll do as he says or I’ll have him spank you!” Rebecca said
to Robin. Jim laughed.
“Shit if I’ll allow that,” Robin said.
“You know I could do it,” Jim threatened.
“You think you could take me?” Robin asked.
“Boys! Boys!” Rebecca said. “We’re our own little family
here, even if we are the world’s sexiest family. Robin, Chloe has to
obey me, because she’s younger. And even though you’re 15, Jim is a
decade older than you, so I expect you to do as he tells you, okay?”
“I don’t like obeying,” Robin sulked.
“It’s sexual obedience, Robin,” my aunt told him. “That’s
different from obeying your parents. Be good and do as you’re told.
You’re not gay, and neither is Jim, but you both must be trained.
Sexually trained, Robin. You will be stronger for it when you’re
through. Imagine, would you have held back your sperm this long if you
were by yourself?”
“‘Course not,” Robin answered, in his blunt, honest way.
“See?” Rebecca said. “So you are learning already. Be good
and you’ll learn some more.”
That seemed to settle the matter, for Robin said no more.
Although I could see, from my mirror, that he longed to jerk himself off
as he sat all by himself in his cage, he didn’t. He sat uncomfortably
on the bars, his hands rubbing his thighs, and sometimes his belly, and
sometimes even his pubic hair, but never touching his penis. Jim,
meanwhile, lay on the medical table, his cock stiff as a flagpole,
watching as Rebecca uncoiled an I.V. line and prepared to insert it into
his manhood.
When Rebecca had placed one end of the I.V. line into an empty
saline bag, she walked over to me. She carried the I.V. line and bag
with her. She put her hand to my gag and loosened it.
“Here. Open your mouth,” Rebecca told me. “Wet the tip of
this I.V. line on your tongue so I can slide it more easily up Jim’s
cock.”
I obeyed. Despite my fright at what they promised to do to me,
I licked the tip of the I.V. line. Then I actually lifted my face and
sucked on it. Rebecca laughed and finally pulled it from between my
lips.
“Very good,” Rebecca said. “Perhaps I shall leave your gag off
and let you talk if you wish. Do you need anything? A drink? A bite
to eat?”
“I can’t eat lying on this table,” I answered.
“Of course you can,” Rebecca said. “I’ll sit here and feed you
some crackers if you wish. You can be my little pet.”
“I don’t want to be your pet,” I said.
“You did a very good job of wetting the end of this I.V., so
don’t make me scold you,” Rebecca said. “Now you can watch as Jim
suffers a little. Enjoy it-- a man getting his for a change.”
I watched. My aunt looked bold and authoritative as she
returned to Jim, the big penis between her legs waggling salaciously
even as she walked with a hip grinding sashay. Jim watched too. He
seemed entranced by how sexy my aunt looked, wearing that big hunky
dildo between her slim legs. She was the perfect Domme, quite well
equipped to put a man in his place!
“Oh, auntie! Stick it up Jim’s bottom!” I squealed, seeing how
tempting that big cock between her legs looked. Imagine it impaling
Jim’s small manly buns!
“I will if he isn’t good,” my aunt said. She walked over to
the table where there were lotions and pots of cream and smeared a
little vaseline on the end of the I.V. Then she returned to the medical
table and stroked Jim’s penis. She complimented its size, smiled at
him, and then said, “Alright, Jim. Let’s see if you can handle this.”
Rebecca squeezed the head of Jim’s cock, not side to side but with her
thumb on top and her index finger underneath, so as to open his pee
hole. It mouthed its pee hole mouth at her, and she stuck the tip of
the I.V. into it.
“Aughgh!” Jim groaned.
“Keep your legs apart!” Rebecca warned. “Must I tie them?” she
asked.
“No,” Jim said. His eyes bulged as he looked at the I.V. line
sticking out of his dick. It had a long way to go before it pierced his
bladder, and he knew it.
“Just relax,” Rebecca told Jim. “I’ve got to thread this all
the way up you, until it slips past the base of your bladder. Then the
tip of this line, that Chloe licked for you, will be inside you-- in
your bladder. Your pee will automatically run down the line and out
into the bag.”
“Oh, great. Just what I need, a bag full of my pee that
everyone can look at,” Jim said. Then he grimaced as my aunt stuck more
of the I.V. line into him, jamming it up his stiff dick.
“Don’t cum,” my aunt said. “Stop me if you think you’re going
to. Otherwise, don’t say anything. I expect you to be quiet and take
this like a man.”
“Like a man? I feel like a woman!” Jim said, feeling the long
plastic line being inserted in his dick. My aunt worked efficiently,
threading him, then looked up from his dick and said, “I expect you to
drink a lot from the I.V. pole beside your cage, and to pee it all into
this empty saline bag that you’ll carry around with you. Oh, and don’t
let your line get caught on anything. I have to inflate a small balloon
at the end of your line, the part that’s in your bladder, to keep it in
place inside of you. If this line were to get caught on something, or
to be pulled on by someone, it could be quite painful. So don’t
disobey. You may find me pulling on your line if you do!”
“Shit! The things I get myself into,” Jim groaned.
“What about me?” Robin piped up, from his cage. “I have to
watch the whole thing, knowing I’m next!”
Rebecca laughed. The dick suspended between her creamy legs
bounced. “Yes, I’m going to fuck two men today, with catheters, and
quite enjoy it,” she said. She didn’t mention me, but I knew I would be
fucked too, unless there was some way I could escape!
“Ugh! I can feel it!” Jim said. He flexed his knees.
“Oh! There goes your pee!” my aunt announced. She watched
with delight as yellow fluid ran down the inside of the catheter and off
the end of the table, then deposited itself in the I.V. bag on the
floor. Jim sat up on the table.
“What?! Did I just go to the bathroom?” Jim asked.
“Yep. In the bag!” my aunt said. She bent down and picked up
the I.V. bag. Quite a lot of fluid was in it, all of it yellow, all
from inside Jim! “You must have had to go pretty badly,” my aunt said.
“I guess so,” Jim answered. He stared at the bag. “How often
is that going to happen?”
“What?” my aunt asked.
“The pee running out of me like that. I barely felt it.”
“Oh, all the time!” my aunt said. “You have no control over
yourself now, Jim dear. At least not over your bladder. I still expect
you to control your balls. We don’t need to have you filling this bag
with sperm!”
“Oh, shit!” Jim said. He turned to get off the medical table.
But with a chain around his ankles and a catheter running out of his
dick, he quickly became tangled.
“Careful!” my aunt said. “You can’t just do as you please now,
Jim, unless you want to yank your bladder to pieces. You’re stuffed
with tubing! Exercise caution-- think like a girl would, and you should
do okay.”
“Great. Just what I need,” Jim said.
“It’s the perfect form of domination,” my aunt smiled. “Now
let’s help Robin onto the table, so he can feel what it’s like to be
cautious and careful too!”
“I don’t want to get a tube stuck up my dick!” Robin protested.
“You do too, because if you don’t, I’ll spank you!” Jim said.
“With a tube hanging out of your dick?” Robin asked.
Rebecca laughed. “What a sight that would make!” she said.
“One man spanking another, and both of them with urethral catheters up
their dicks!”
“Family values,” Jim grunted.
“Hell, I should go home to my parents,” Robin said. “Why did I
run away from home, to be spanked by some man with tubing stuck up his
dick?”
“Look at me!” I shouted from across the room.
Rebecca unlocked Robin’s cage. She reached into it and caught
hold of his stiff cock. She pulled on it; and him.
“Ow!” Robin said. “That’s a penis, not a handle!” Grudgingly
he let my aunt draw him out of his cage. When he had dropped to the
floor, his bare feet on the concrete, Jim took hold of one of his arms.
“This way, son,” Jim said.
“Yes, father,” Robin answered. I stared at them. How handsome
they looked! I wondered if Robin could feel the heat from Jim’s body as
the older man guided him across the room to the medical table. My aunt
kept a hand on Robin’s dick, tugging him along, while with her other
hand she wiggled the big fake cock suspended at her bush.
“Mmmm, up on the table, Robin,” my aunt said affectionately.
Robin looked at the table with apprehension. Jim patted his bare ass.
“Hey!” Robin said.
“Get up on the table,” Jim said. “Or I’ll make this ass of
yours red.”
Robin climbed up on the table. He climbed like a boy mounting
a jungle gym, hefting himself up onto the table without first turning
around. Jim and Rebecca watched his bare ass, and the sac of sperm
hanging underneath, as he hoisted himself up onto the table. When he
was on the table, Robin lay down, on his stomach.
“No, no,” my aunt said. “Don’t lie on your penis, Robin. Roll
over onto your back.”
“I don’t want to,” Robin said.
Jim lifted his hand. Robin looked up at it, but did nothing.
WHACK! Jim’s hand slammed down onto Robin’s bare butt.
“Owwww!” Robin yelled. His hands flew to his ass. As he
rubbed it, frantically, he rolled over onto his back. “I didn’t know
you spanked so hard,” Robin said ruefully. He looked up at Jim. His
penis stood up erectly as he lay on the medical table, with Rebecca and
Jim leaning over him.
“I think our patient is ready now, mistress,” Jim said to
Rebecca.
“Thank you, doctor, for ensuring his compliance,” Rebecca
replied.
“You fuckers are weird,” Robin said. But he let Rebecca open
his legs, and fondle his balls, as Jim walked over to a shelf and pulled
down an empty saline bag and an I.V. line. Jim carried his pee bag as
he walked. I watched his pee sloshing in it.
I got to lick the tip of Robin’s I.V. line. Then my aunt put
some vaseline on it so it would be nice and slick. As Jim and my aunt
both slid the catheter into Robin’s dick, I saw more pee come out of
Jim’s penis and slide down his I.V. line into his pee bag. I’m not sure
he was even aware of it, that he was going to the bathroom even as he
catheterized Robin. One who is catheterized can go to the bathroom
without noticing.
At last Robin was done. He got up off the table. He walked
over to me and showed me what they’d done to him. There was already pee
in his pee bag. I watched as, with no control over it on his part,
Robin made more urine and it went into the bag.
30
----------------------- Dreamgirls! -----------------------
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copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
-END OF story EMISSION
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