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From: Glaucon55@aol.com
Subject: Collector Series:  The Itch Part II (MMF, nc, bd)
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I have attached the next chapter of a story which I would like to have
added to your archive.  Thanks for posting the first chapter:

title:  Collector Series:  The Itch Part II (MMF, nc, bd)

Description:  A "collector" captures a young, hitch-hiking couple, and
detains them for his sexual pleasure, the next continuation.



The Itch:  Part II, August 30, 1998

What was I to do with them?  The girl was easy to dispose of, their
were men whom I knew who would take her to Mexico, and through
connections sell her abroad.  She would fetch good money on the
international slave market.  Especially since she was unable to
control her orgasms, there would be wealthy people who would pay to
see her trained into a squirt gun, day in and day out.  The boy was
more complicated.  Yes, there were folk who would purchase him.  But
boys are more difficult to manage.  And although Michael was a
pussycat with a unruly dick, there would still be fewer contacts who
would be willing to deal with him.  I decided that as long as I had
both, I would play with them for a while until I could dispose of them
both.  While my connections made arrangements, there were still
moments of fuck lust to video.

I carefully checked their identifications.  His wallet was a beat up
thing with a Utah driver's license.  There were no pictures of family
in the wallet, and I could find no telephone numbers.  I learned later
that he was an only child from a strict Mormon background, unusual to
say the least the way Mormon's fuck.  He had rebelled, run away to
Arizona, and had eventually found his way to Texas where I had picked
both of them up.  She was a girl from Northern Arizona who didn't seem
to have a background.  She was two years younger than him, and had few
possessions.  There was a telephone number in her wallet for a cousin
in Pennsylvania.  But the paper was old and had obviously not been
removed from the wallet for some time.  These kids were on their own,
and now they were temporarily in my possession.

After our first night which I described previously, I tied Michael to
a bed in a room next to Susan's.  I kept him blindfolded, so that I
could manage him better.  He had calmed down considerably, and in
spite of his feeble efforts to show bravado, his fear ultimately made
him do everything I asked.  I told him that if he and the girl just
cooperated for a few days, I'd take them back out on the road, and let
them go blindfolded, but with at least one hand free to loosen
themselves.  He bought it, but begged me not to hurt them.  Shit, I
wasn't going to hurt them...though the thought of a little torture was
clearly on the agenda.  My goal was to enjoy their superb physical
beauty, and milk the juices out of them for my pleasure, before I made
some tangible profit from shipping them to markets where white boys
and girls for sold for sex were at a premium.  I tied him spread
eagle, with his fine feet open and exposed, as well as his hairy
armpits.  His firm stomach muscles, etched with youth and work, were
carefully delineated, his navel barely visible from the hair in and
around it, and his sweet cock, resting flaccid and exhausted from the
night before over a sac of big, heavy testicles that were already
brewing another batch of boy crud for my enjoyment.

Susan remained in her room.  I kept her legs separated by a wide
spreader bar, that gently caused her labia to be separated.  That way,
any breeze that entered the room, from the fan in the corner or even
the window if I opened it, would send a sweet shiver right to her
clit, and cause it to make her drool a bit more.  Even a hint of a
breeze, or the sense of a touch, would cause her fine nipples to
harden and crinkle, almost painfully for the need to be massaged or
pinched.  

The night before, I had gotten her to describe to me how it felt when
Michael fucked her.  Jesus she was a slut.  As I licked her tits, and
scratched my rough fuck finger up and down her slot, she told me the
whole story. Between..."mmmmmmmnnnnn...uuuuugggghhh.... Aaaaahhhhh...
mmmmm... aaaaghhhhhh...." from the insidious tickling of her cunny,
she said she met him at a bus station in Tucson, and when he saw her
sitting towards the back of the bus going to Dallas by herself he
immediately joined her.  She liked the way he talked, his soft drawl,
and the way his jeans fit his thighs and calves, his long muscular
legs, and the fading bulge at his crotch.  By the time the lights were
out, and they were driving through the night, he had one blunt,
calloused fuck finger, stroking the outside of her damp panties,
making her wet them more, and squirm from the delicious feeling of his
finger pad gently pushing the material between her cunt lips and
roiling her clit.  While they talked in soft tones, without anyone
realizing, he used that finger to make her cum twice as they
drove...and he knew it.  Once they dot to Dallas, they found a room in
a cheap motel, and he fucked her three time the first night, making
her squeal with pleasure as his curved cock rasped against her
insolent love button, exposing it, and bending it against the rigid
stalk as he stroked in and out like an experienced bronco buster.  He
talked sweet and low, but fucked like a champ.  The next day, while
they were hitch-hiking from Dallas he took her behind a road sign, and
sucked her pussy and pinched her tits until she cried that she
couldn't cum one more time.  He gave her that sexy, handsome smile,
his face wet with her juices, and then unbuttoned his jeans so she
could suck him off once for the road.  The laughed at their own inside
jokes, as the talkative business man who gave them their next ride,
had no idea how recently they had been spiting fuck juices. 

I began trolling my tongue between her fat, sticky cunt lips as she
babbled her confession, occasionally flicking her clit, but mostly
rolling her tits, and her gasping and grunting as I made her squirt
more and more strong sap onto my tongue.  I told her until she got it
all out, I wouldn't let her cum again, and she hastened to comply,
anxious to have that cunt contract just one more time.  

God I love a helpless snatch that can't control the need for a
soothing touch once the juices start to flow.  I had her legs propped
up a the knees, so I could place a board with a short dildo attached
to it between them and insert its slender but pebbled surface just
inside her cunt lips.  She could mash her clit against it just barely,
and tickle her sensitive labia.  But she could bring herself off, so
she spent the night in a fitful sleep, occasionally awaking to jerk
herself off, but unable to do so.  Her tits were like firm stones when
I saw her in the morning, aching from the need to be relieved of the
natural itch deep up her trough.

Michael reluctantly told me that once he left Utah, he seemed to
always find a gal "that needed what he had to offer."  I had to rub
his prostate for a few minutes before he burped out in short blunt
sentences, all I wanted to know.  His firm ass muscles tried to
squeeze my finger off, but as I tickled his armpits, his navel, or his
feet, he would temporarily lose control of his grip, and I could work
him for a bit more information.  He'd screwed several college girls, a
housewife, and bar maid in Tuscon during the time he stayed there.
He'd learned to keep his hands off his dick so that he could fuck
forever, and he loved the way women whined as he long dicked 'em.
Seemed like there was always a horny bitch wanting to suck his dick,
and he never disappointed a lady with a wet snatch.  He just liked to
make them purr and squeal when he sucked, fingered or fucked 'em.  The
way a pussy clutched his dick, just made him want more and more.  He
couldn't get his wick dipped enough, but he was never mean or pushy.
Girls just saw that handsome, sweet boy next door mug and melted into
whatever he wanted to do with their sticky pussies and taut titties.

I used a ball stretcher and cock-ring on Michael, once I masturbated
him into another unwanted erection.  Then I slipped a very slender and
short dildoe up his asshole, covered with small, stiff points that
rested just below his prostate.  Every time he moved that night, the
remote sensor in this wonderful little device I bought in Hong Kong,
would activate its vibrator, and he would be given a sweet little
massage on his fuck nut that made his prick go stiff and drool.  I
later learned that he had only had a finger up his butt once before he
encountered me, when an older cousin of his tied him up and stripped
him when he was fifteen during some horsing around in a barn.  The kid
had lowered his pants and briefs, sucked his finger, then tickled it
up the resisting hole while Michael threatened to kill him when he got
free.  But he admitted that he sprung a boner, and that his cousin had
pulled it down between his legs, and hooked it under the briefs that
were at his thighs.  He said his cousin's taunting finger fuck,
coupled with him using the other hand to just jerk and tickle the knob
of his aching schlong, made him shoot crud for what seemed like a
minute...yelping and groaning from the overwhelming sensations and the
ticklish itch that seemed to envelope his prick tip.

I wanted them both ready the next day for more fun and games.  I was
not disappointed.

The next morning, after I let him piss and shit, I hosed down Michael
in the shower, and fed him while blindfolded and bound.  I placed him
on his knees on a floor level rolling car..  His knees were spread,
and his arms tied down to his ankles, bowing his chest.  I put a
collar on his neck, and fastened a chain from the collar to the cart
in between his legs which dangled off the back of the it.  That caused
his head to be tipped slightly backwards.  I supported his lower back
and neck with a bolster I made for this use, and it allowed him to
thrust his tits up like a girl, keep his asshole available from
underneath, and tip his head up towards anything that his tongue might
have to service.  Much to my surprise, but also my delight, Michael's
fine cock had erected and was dripping by the time he was wheeled into
the room with Susan whom he could not see.

For her part, Susan was bent in a wide, standing squat.  Her legs were
keep separated and her feet on the floor.  Two metal braces fixed to
the floor between her legs helped take her weight off her thighs and
calves by supporting the bottom of her buttocks and the back, top of
her thighs.  Her arms were cuffed up high between her should blades so
that her breasts were thrust out, and their nipples that aimed
upwards, were fully exposed and engorged.  I had a blindfold over her
eyes, and a small vibrating penis gag in her mouth.   I also had her
ears covered so she could hear nothing.  The squat of her legs allowed
her blonde pubis to thrust out and down between her buttocks, open and
ever moist.  From below, I had a stream of air flowing up from a
narrow and specially designed vent between her legs, thickly moistened
with warm oil as it emerged, aimed at her cunt lips to make them wet,
red and irritated and making her molested clit ache for a soothing
touch.  I used one had to twirl her nearest nipple, and rubbed my
rough thumb at the top of her labia, causing her to grunt against the
gag in her mouth.  I liked that immediate response.

Now the games were to begin.  I rolled Michael over to the squatting
women who had been his lover less than 48 hours earlier, but whom he
could not see.  She for her part did not know he was in the room, and
could neither see nor hear him.  I asked him, as his upturned face and
his nose came under her now moist and fragrant cunt, what he smelled:

"I smell pussy, Mr." he drawled in that sexy voice.  

"Yes indeed, Michael, something that I know you like very much.  I'm
told by Susan that you're quite a dog, and that you lap cunt with the
best of them."

"I always have had a hankering for pussy juice, since I was sixteen,"
he said with a sweet honesty that indicated he'd decided to go through
this and just get out alive, "and my best friend's older sister let me
lick her snatch one afternoon after baseball practice while I waited
for him to come home from swim practice so we could study.  She showed
me how to stick my tongue up her hole, and tickle her job button, and
I kind liked the way she squeaked each time I made the mark." I
watched as the perspiration began to drip from his armpits.

"Well, Michael, I've got a ripe pussy for you to lick right here.  It
belongs to a girl that can't stop juicing, she a regular prick hound.
In fact she's got one fine little snatch, nice and blond with fur all
along the hole, and the lips spread so you can get to the tasty meat
just inside, and a clit that looks like its a half-inch long and
throbbing for something to rub it.  Jesus, I'm looking up into that
hole, just above your nose Michael, and I can see the juice dripping
down, ready to coat your face."

I notice his dick had gone rigid, and was sticking up and out, sticky
wet from his pre-cum, dripping down.

But now I was going to add some fun for both of them that they were
not suspecting.  I took a paint brush, dipped it into a bowl of thick
clear gel, and swabbed the lips of Susan's horny cunt, rummaged the
bristles all around her clit and its fleshy cover, and then deep up
the hole to her joy spot.  She squealed  and howled through her gag,
the unsatisfying tickling driving her wild, making her hands scrabble
behind her back.  I turned on the penis vibrator in her gag to its
lowest setting to distract her from the sensation of the bristles. She
grunted and groaned in frustration from the ticklish intrusion that
failed to help her achieve a much needed orgasm.  Then I took the same
brush and basted her conical tits.  What she did not know was that the
gel was a fierce itching compound and topical aphrodisiac that worked
on the erectile tissues, and with the chemical composition of cunt
juice or sperm.  Within moments, the interior of her cunt, the weeping
labia, and inside, around and on her unprotected clit, little red
bumps appeared that were not painful but itched to the point of
distraction and madness.  The same occurred on her tits, and soon
would be doing the same up her asshole.  I inserted a thin glass rod
with horsehair bristles coated with the cream up her fundament, and
the end of the thing had a wire that led to a console where it could
be activated into a quivering, spinning probe that could not be
ejected because of the harness that kept it in place.  Over her tits,
I slipped two loose clips that would not cause pain but would conduct
electrical shocks to the itching nipples, and sometimes a steady
current that buzzed those already stiff nodes into a tickle that could
not be imagined.  Within seconds of activating the entire combination,
Susan was performing as I had hoped.  

When she started to squeal and scream around her buzzing penis gag, I
turned on its vibrator to the next level so that the plastic would
tickle the roof of her mouth and buzz her teeth, rattling her out of
her ability to concentrate on the incredible itch and tickle that had
overtaken her body's most erotic locations, and prevented her from
concentrating on a much needed cum.

Now came the final piece of the puzzle.  First I told Michael to open
his mouth.  As he did so, I slipped in a retainer that helped him keep
his mouth slightly open, and allowed his tongue free movement.  I then
slipped a special, flexible soft plastic cover over the end of his
tongue, which fit into groves on the inside of the retainer so it
would not slip off.  It could move back and forth, sideways, and up
and down as the tongue moved, tethered on a track in the retainer. The
plastic cover protected the broad surface of the tongue, and the
protruding tip beyond. The further genius of the device was that the
soft plastic was covered by a fine pad of stiff, short horsehair
bristles.  The consistency made the bristles flexible and soft one the
one hand, but scratchy and irritating on the other.  I rolled Michael
back slightly so his nose was nearer the palpitating asshole clenching
from the bristle massage deep inside, and his mouth was poised right
at the line of the quaking, slippery cunt.  I sprayed some
neutralizing liquid into his mouth, that would prevent him from
developing the maddening bumps, but if his tongue slowed from its
appointed rounds of making the sliding plastic cover graze back and
forth over Susan labia and clit, and deep into her spasaming trench, a
small shock would be delivered to his tongue by a small sensor wire to
remind him of his duty.   I had the same treatment slated for his
dick, his balls, his tits, and for a special little vibrator that I
slipped up his asshole that could spin and flex with the same tickling
horsehair, as I had given to Susan.

I told him his charge, and set him in motion.

"Michael, you need to try and wring six or seven orgasms from this
slut within thirty minutes, or I'll slip a mechanical milking device
covered in horsehair over your dick and leave it on you all night.  So
let's get to it shall we?"

Michael thrust his blind tongue straight up to where he thought the
cunt was located, not knowing that he was torturing sweet Susan, his
bus-stop fling.  When the bristle came in contact with the angry red
bumps, Susan went crazy.  She loved the bristles because they soothed
the itch, but then they would aggravate it all the more, making her
cunt spasm and spit juice.  And when he thrust tongue up and into her
cunt hole, reaching up deep inside her, and the swipe of the pad
penetrated to the exposed expanse of her throbbing clit....I thought
Susan would pass out.  Fortunately for me, and unfortunately for her,
she did not.  Moreover, just as she would be ready to succumb to the
awful sensations, I would pull Michael away.  Her cunt would throb,
and drip, clench, and quiver, but her hardened clit could not get what
it needed desperately.

For his part, Michael's angry red wang, covered in the little bumps,
waved helplessly and futilely...hoping that some hand or something
would soothe it.  I slipped on a little finger pad with the horse hair
bristles on the end, and just lightly scratched the big, overwrought
knob of the young man's fuck stick.  That, and I alternated the wicked
flexing anal probe that worked his prostate, prostrate, by playing
with the dials on the console.  Both their sexy feet curled and
flexed, trying anything to escape the sensations that were driving
them.  Their fingers scrabbled helplessly behind their backs.  

When Michael finally could not stand the tickling against his
prostrate and over his tortured dick head anymore, his cock tip
expanded obscenely allowing me a greater surface on which to twirl the
maddening bristles.  Then, after having brought him to this point
several times for almost two hours, I kept the bristles whizzing on
his circumcision scar and flange until he erupted with nine long,
copious spurts of white sperm that squirted across the room between
Susan's legs.  The first two bolts shot up and hit her cunt, melding
in with the juices that dripped non-stop from her cunny and back into
his mouth.  I used one hand to roll his tits pointy tits, and the let
the wicked little bristles on the fingertips of my other hand continue
to dance on his prick knob making his hips jerk wildly to void the
awful sensitivity.

Susan must have been sympatico with he man, because the moment he shot
scum, she burst into a long series of orgasms from the scratching
bristles.  I couldn't keep track of how many times she came.  She
started immediately to contract her pussy muscles around the horrible
bristles, and after ten, I just stopped counting and let the parade
continue.  She was young and horny, and her cunt betrayed her from the
moment the bristles began to work their magic.

As I rolled Michael's dancing tongue away from Susan's cunt and turned
off the dials, I could see that she had drenched his face, her legs,
and the floor between her legs with a copious flow of cunt juice.  I
left Michael to his devices in the next room, the little probe up his
butthole working now only on batteries, but still able to keep his
attention and make his dick grow stiff again.  But for Susan, I sat
down in a chair in front of her, now using my little bristle pad
finger glove to tweak and toy with her now freed tits, and to search
out her exhausted clit for some final treatment.  I just had to feel
those cunt muscles grip my fingers a few times as I finger banged her
for the fun of it.  I took off her gag, and listened to the sweet
music from her mouth:

"Aaaaaaaaggggghhhhh....noooooo, nooo, please stop.....aaaaaaahhhhhh,
my cunt, oh, no, not there....aaaaaaaagggghhhh.....stop, oh jesus, oh
my god, oooooooohhhhh  nnnnnoooooo....not again....not
again....aaaaahhhhhhh....AAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE.....!"

Over the next couple of days, those kids shot more juice than I
thought humanly possible.  I spent one night just alternating my
masturbation of the two until they basically passed out.  But bless
their sweet young hearts, they were ready by the next morning, after a
shower and a good meal.  By the end of the week, Michael was on his
way to Brazil, to live in the interior with a couple that wanted a
handsome and sexually insatiable young man for their revels at their
estate far from neighbors and authorities in the Amazon basin.  There
the special skills of the native people, and their special potions
would raise the unsuspecting boy from Utah to a whole new level of
sexual consciousness.  Susan was bound for Malaya, and a Chinese
plantation owner who had his own fascinating ideas about how to make
young girls shoot their wad repeatedly.  He wanted her kept horny but
unsatisfied for the five day journey so that when she arrived, he
would be able to start with a "bang" so to speak.

For my part, I was about to entertain a young twenty year old Marine
from Corpus Christi whose family in North Carolina had not much
contact with him, and a sweet young girl of eighteen that met him at
the beach on a summer vacation fling with her college girl friends.
But that is the next chapter in my story about folks who have the itch
and the ways I've learned to satisfy their needs.



7






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